#not pay attention… and also hes easy to hate on cos hes in his at LEAST late 60s and is all out of touch or w/e

[driftwooddestiel]

i actually love my physics teacher sm hes so fun. we had a non-graded test today and he included a really stupid physics meme that was like “my girlfriend said she needed time and distance… is she trying to calculate velocity?” and then had THREE bonus questions you could get extra marks from. and the bonus questions were all trivia questions about the ac/dc music video he showed us in class a couple of weeks ago. its especially funny cos when he was telling us the trivia in class when we watched the video, someone asked if it was gonna be on a test and he said “well, maybe… they dont like when i add my own questions but you never know” (paraphrased) and we all assumed he was joking and that if it did get included itd be like . just setting a word problem in the music video or smth not literally asking us about the video. its amazing

[lilmoonbunny]

Co-Workers to Lovers; Albert Wesker

Warnings: Cheating boyfriend (reader's bf, not Wesker), alcohol consumption, implied nsfw.

Working alongside Albert Wesker was… interesting.

He was cold, rude, blunt, and so on with all his workers, except for you.

He wasn’t a lot nicer, but there wasn’t the same amount of judgement, hatred, and annoyance in his tone when he spoke to you.

If it wasn’t for the fact that he would kill them, your co-workers would joke that he has a sweet spot for you.

It wasn’t like you didn’t have one for him also. Most of your co-workers hated you for the special treatment you got from Wesker, so he was basically all you had at Umbrella.

Your boyfriend wasn’t fond of your work-relationship with Albert, something about how he “didn’t trust the creep” and how “he’s trying to steal you from me”.

You never believed any of that, but then again, you never believed that your boyfriend would cheat on you either.

Well, until the night you came home from work earlier than usual to the sound of moans from your bedroom.

At first, you thought maybe he was masturbating. After all, it had been a while since you two had last had sex. Work Albert had been keeping you busy.

The moment you heard the female moans, you knew what was happening, but you couldn’t stop yourself from entering the room.

“Really?” You asked him, watching his face morph from pleasure, to shock, to anger.

“You’re home early!”

“Clearly.”

Without another word, you left the room as your boyfriend of three years rushed to put his pants on and chase after you, but before he could reach you, you had already left, beginning to walk in the pouring rain.

You didn’t know what to do or where to go, so you ended up back at work. They had beds for those doing 24-hour shifts, so you could just take one of those.

“I thought you finished for today. Why are you here, and why are you wet? You’re dripping on the floor.” Whilst his words would seem annoyed, there was an underlying tone of concern in Albert’s tone.

“My boyfriend cheated on me; I walked here in the rain. Sorry, Sir.” You whispered, avoiding eye contact.

Had you been paying attention, you would have noticed the way his jaw clenched in anger, but all you heard was an annoyed sigh followed by you being told to follow him.

He took you to his office, bluntly telling you to sit before leaving the room.

You waited, eyes still staring at the floor rather than the room around you.

You were embarrassed more than anything. First your boyfriend cheats on you for God only knows how long, and now you’re crying to your boss.

“It’s not your fault.” Wesker’s deep voice sounds from behind you, the weight of a towel being placed on your shoulder pulls you from your self-deprecating thoughts.

You shrug and he sighs again, taking a seat in his chair.

“Look at me.” You do.

It isn’t easy for him, not at all, but he does do his best to put on a somewhat kinder face and try to comfort you.

“He’s a moron. Don’t worry about that idiot. You deserve better.” He says. “You deserve me” sounds his internal voice, but he ignores it.

With a quiet sigh, you nod and agree. “Thank you, Sir.”

“Albert is quite fine, Dear.” The name causes you to blush and you silently pray that he doesn’t notice or will just pass it off as you being cold, but he isn’t stupid.

“Thank you, Albert.”

Wesker can’t deny the way his body reacts when his name rolls from your tongue, but he can sure as hell ignore it. He doesn’t need feelings. He isn’t capable of them, he tells himself.

“You can stay in my office for the time being. I finish in an hour or two, I’ll drive you back to my place.” It wasn’t an invitation, it was a demand, but one that you didn’t want to turn down.

“Thank you.” You repeat, and he simply nods, passing you some dry clothes, and leaving to return to work.

Once he finished work, Albert gathered his things and lead you to his car.

Being the gentleman he is, although it was only for you, he held the door open for you, enjoying the way you blushed and muttered a thank you.

The drive was quiet. It was late, dark, and you were both deep in your thoughts.

He was wondering if he had made a mistake inviting you to stay at his home until you were back on your feet. He didn’t know how long he could go without kissing or touching you, but it also didn’t sit right with him making you stay at Umbrella offices where it wasn’t safe, or with your cheating boyfriend.

However, all you could think about was how good he looked driving, his hands tightened around the wheel and the gearstick. There was something oddly attractive about it.

Despite him being deep in his own thoughts, he didn’t fail to notice and couldn’t help the smirk on his lips which made you blush once again.

“We’re here,” he said, quickly moving to open your door for you and lead you into his mansion house, enjoying the shock on your face.

“Thank you, Albert,” you smiled at him as soon as you two were sat with drinks in your hands. “It means a lot to me. More than you can imagine.”

“It’s no problem, Dear.”

Over the weeks that you had stayed at his place, it was safe to say that you and Albert had grown closer, the same as your feelings had grown more for one another.

Albert was working more to keep himself busy, as were you, but the drives home were becoming more and more painful each time.

It was obvious to him that you had feelings for him, but he was him. Albert Wesker isn’t exactly the king of relationships, or even friendships; he had betrayed everyone in his life, after all.

He couldn’t resist, however, placing his large hand on your thigh as he drove, enjoying the way you tensed up beneath his touch and a blush ran to your cheeks, but you remained silent.

Having enjoyed your reaction, this was something he began doing every journey. He loved seeing you flustered, even more so when you stuttered when he spoke to you during the drive.

“No need to stutter, Dear. It’s only us.” He would say with a smirk.

You didn’t know how much longer you could last without touching him either, but you were afraid of rejection. Sure, he touched you, but what if he didn’t want you to touch him.

He could sense your hesitation and didn’t expect you to ever do anything, at least, until you laid your hand on top of his that rested on your thigh, your head lying on the glass of the window. It was clear you were tired, and perhaps that was why you were doing it.

You fell asleep that drive, the sound of rain and feeling of Albert’s hand touching your own lulling you into a deep sleep, one that he didn’t want to wake you from., so he didn’t. Instead, he carefully lifted you and carried you to the room you had been staying in. Your room.

Your relationship grew closer from there. You trusted him and, scarily enough for him, he trusted you also.

You went out one night with your friends, Wesker telling you to call him when you were ready to come home, and he would pick you up; he didn’t trust anyone but himself to get you home safely.

You had talked about him all night, leaving your friends wondering what was happening between you both. That was when you finally admitted it to yourself: you loved him.

Whilst the thought had always been there, completely admitting it to yourself was terrifying, but it had to be done.

However, the only way you felt you could properly think on this was by drinking more.

When it reached 3am, you texted him telling him you’ll get a cab since he was likely asleep.

Don’t be stupid, I’ll come get you. I can’t sleep. Where are you? Came his immediate reply. He would never admit it, but he stayed up worrying about you.

He was there moments later, helping you into the car so you didn’t fall with a sigh.

“Are you mad at me?” You asked upon realising that he wasn’t touching you for the first time in weeks.

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“Then why aren’t you touching me?”

“You’re drunk. I’m not touching you whilst you’re drunk, Y/N.”

A blush ran up your cheeks at the realisation and your drunk self couldn’t stop the words leaving your lips.

“But what if I want you to? What if I want you to do more than hold my thigh?” You’d regret that in the morning, but you were too drunk to care.

Albert’s hand tightened on the wheel at your words, doing his best to calm his breathing before responding.

“You’re still drunk. I’m not taking advantage of you whilst you’re under the influence. If you still want it tomorrow, then I will.” Were the final words for the night before you fell asleep and he, yet again, carried you inside, the smallest smile on his lips.

The following morning you were terrified of facing him, remembering what you had said, so you stayed inside your room until noon when a knock came on your door.

“I know you’re awake, Y/N. We need to talk.” Came his stern voice that had both your heart and thoughts racing, assuming the worst.

“Okay.” Came your meek response as you opened the door, allowing him into the room.

It was silent for a few moments, before you offered him a seat beside you.

“Did you mean what you said last night?” He asked, staring at you. “Be honest, I won’t be offended if you say no.”

His words confused you, but as you stared at him, you couldn’t help but notice the way his pupils dilated whilst he stared back, lips slightly parted. You weren’t dumb, you knew what that meant. He wanted you the same way you wanted him.

Rather than responding, you closed the gap between both of you, his hands instantly moving to push the straps of your dress that you had failed to change out of down your shoulders.

Once you pulled away, breathless and half undressed, he chuckled quietly.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” He teased, but you ignored it and pressed your lips to his again in desperation.

Maybe it had always been him since you met him. Maybe your cheating ex-boyfriend was just what made you realise that.

One-shot (Cheating Heart) coming soon!

[riddles-n-games]

Let It Hurt

Pairing: Avery and Jameson Summary: A rewrite of Ch. 54 in the first book. Alternate take post first kiss at the Wayback Cottage where Avery is more angsty and doesn't let Jameson go that easy. Length: Moderate Story Type: Rewrite

ANNOUCEMENT: I'm starting a tag list. If you want to be included, comment down below! Also, to access my TIG master list of fics, here's the link to the expanded view of my blog: riddles-n-games.tumblr.com. Click the icon Hawthorne Vault, that's where you'll find hidden treasure.

A/N: Hi guys! I'm sooo excited to be posting this one. It's been a long time in drafts and I was lost with how to continue it but I just know I really wanted Avery to be hurt but accidentally didn't try hard enough to make Jameson stop kissing her again. This gets deeper in their feelings and so it kinda makes Jameson sound like he's his THL self but still in line with his TIG self as well. Enjoy!

Kissing him felt like fire. He wasn't soft or sweet, the way he had been while washing away the blood and dirt. I didn't need soft or sweet. This was exactly what I needed.

    Maybe I could be what he needed, too. Maybe this didn’t have to be a bad idea. Maybe the complications were worth it.

    He pulled back from the kiss, his lips only an inch away from mine. “I always knew you were special.”

    I felt his breath on my face. I felt every last one of those words. I’d never thought of myself as special. I’d been invisible for so long. Wallpaper. Even after I’d become the biggest story in the world, it had never really felt like anyone was paying attention to me. The real me.

    “We’re so close now,” Jameson murmured. “I can feel it.” There was an energy in his voice, like the buzzing of a neon light. “Someone obviously didn’t want us looking at that tree.”

    What? 

    He went to kiss me again, cupping my cheek in his hand and with my heart sinking, I sadly wasn’t fast enough to turn my head away as his mouth connected with mine. I couldn't stop the lone tear that slid down my face. The shock of his words only started to hit me then and I wished it didn’t hurt so much but it did, even as I subconsciously reciprocated the kiss. 

    For a moment, I tried to will the hurt away, to pretend that this was what it was like to get kissed by a boy that liked me. I hated that his body felt snug against me and how it felt right. We didn’t actually like each other in that way, he just needed me to solve his grandfather’s last mystery and then I’d be discarded. I was no Emily but then, I never would want to be her anyway. 

    She was a life lesson of what not to be; a spoiled little girl who was more trouble than she was worth, got everything she wanted and got away with anything. Even if something was most definitely her fault, somehow everyone else was responsible. Well, the princess fell from the tower at some point. But even though I was tired of being associated with a dead girl that was six feet below the ground in a grave, I was continuously being dealt that card to no avail.

    The biggest irony of all was that I was in the house where her presence was most felt, like the ghost of her was overhead, hovering behind me, following my every move. 

    When he pulled away, I pushed at his chest and turned on my heel, trying to put as much distance between us. Hearing him grunt in surprise was only the tiniest bit satisfying as I made my way back to the room. There was some muffled mumbling that sounded an awful lot like “deserved that” but even so I didn’t care.

    I stopped at the beds and looked from one to the other. Which was hers? As I took in every fine detail of the quilt, my hand subconsciously went to my chest, ghosting over the pattern of the wound. I was in a dead girl’s room. I was almost killed tonight. There had been wood in my chest, there could have been a bullet buried there instead. Jameson could have been hurt or killed; if the bullet had ricocheted, it easily could have hit him. 

    Both of us could have come out of this very differently if it weren’t for those “hadn’t beens”. But Jameson didn’t seem to see it that way. No, because he was busy thinking about a tree. Anger flared inside me at the reminder. I understood he had laser focus but I thought he had room for a little bit of empathy and logic. 

    My mind shot to alertness when I heard nearby shuffling until I realized it was coming from the bathroom and heard him step into the bedroom. I crossed my arms and kept my eyes trained on the bedpost in front of me, not letting myself look up when I knew he was right behind me. He sighed softly. 

    “Heiress?” I didn’t reply. Another sigh. “Look, I know I came off as in-

    “I could’ve been shot.” 

    “Pardon? I didn’t-”

    “I said I could’ve been shot.” I spun around, catching him blink in surprise. “Shot, Jameson. Do you know what that means?” I stared at him sharply for a long moment before he looked aside, something like guilt or shame evident on his face. “I just inherited your family’s stupidly big fortune which made me a target of basically everyone related to you and anyone else in the world that made me their problem. I could have been killed. You could have been. Don’t you get that?”

    He looked up again and tilted his head, giving me a small wry smile. “Don’t worry about me, Heiress. A bullet still wouldn’t stop me.” My jaw dropped; he was still attempting humor. 

     “A-Are you being serious right now? Do you hear yourself?” He stayed silent. “Oren just pulled a chunk of wood out of my chest and if things had worked out a little differently, he could have been pulling out a bullet. Same goes for you. And meanwhile you’re over here thinking about a damn tree? This mystery, us running around acting like we’re Mystery Inc, you figuring out why your grandfather chose me, it’s all meaningless to you if I die. And if you got shot, your family would be out for me, we both know that much. And then what? Not everything is a game, Hawthorne.”

    “Perhaps you’re right but that’s just it, MG. If Emily taught me anything, it’s that everything is a game. Even this.” I was about ready to throttle him. But I withheld and rolled my eyes, laughing anxiously instead. “Jameson, get real. Emily’s dead, I almost died, your grandfather is dead, you’re not one of the heirs, your family hates me, the inheritance is not in the rightful hands, and now someone is after me. This is reality for me and you right now. This isn’t in your head. Life comes with risk, I know, but this isn’t a game.” 

    That elicited a reaction. His jaw got tight and his eyes narrowed. “You don’t think I know that Heiress? Unfortunately, my grandfather raised us treating everything like a damn game from the moment we could talk and think. Don’t pretend you even know the beginning of my life story, we’d be here all day.”

    “And I’m not. But you are acting like what just happened is something to push aside. Newsflash, it can’t be. I can get you pretending that covering me with yourself in the woods, cleaning my wound, our kiss doesn’t matter but not my life or yours being on the line for some stupid mystery. That’s all I ask.” That’s when it hit me. “Why do you act like that? Like you don’t matter?”

    I caught the panic in his eyes when they widened for a brief second as he turned away from me and ran a hand through his hair, sighing deeply. He’d been doing that a lot. After a long pause he spoke. “Because I’ve done worse. There’s a lot of things from my past that I’m not proud of. Things with Gray, things with Emily, things with Xan and Nash, the old man…” I put a hand on his shoulder. He side-eyed me and smirked knowingly. “If you’re expecting for this to turn into a confession, you’re going to be sorely disappointed.” 

    This time I sighed and shook my head. “No, I don’t. I don’t expect you to say anything you’re not comfortable sharing. But Jameson? We’ve all done things we’re not proud of, don’t be so hard on yourself for that.” 

    He turned his head toward me fully and the smirk turned into his signature crooked grin. “Don’t pity me, Heiress. Self loathing is a very good look for me.” But I saw the sadness in his eyes and something about it gave me a hollow feeling, like he’d been holding it in for so long. Yet that didn’t last either. “I know what you’re thinking and contrary to what you believe, I deserve it. Call it my role in the family.” 

    My hand slid from his shoulder and swiped at the mussy hairs stuck to my forehead. Then, I sidestepped him to pace around the room. I wasn’t sure how much more beating around the bush I could take.

    “I thought that was my thing,” he said. I glared at him in passing. “What? Did I say something wrong?”

    “Can you just let me think in silence for a second? I mean, would it kill you to stop making everything a joke?”

    “Hey, this wasn’t ever going to be a pity party, Heiress. Not my style. I’ve been honest about that mu-”

    “Stop it! Just… stop.” I walked over to him and took his hands in mine. “Look at me, Jameson.” He did, surprisingly. I lowered my voice and spoke gently. “I know you’re not okay. I know you’re sad. You have been for a long time. It’s caused you deep pain, I’ve felt that way, too.” I felt him go very still and for a long minute, he was quiet. 

    He exhaled shakily and his eyes were averted. There was the rawness again. “I’m not very good at this, Avery. I’m terrible at hurting.”

    Avery. He said my name; that’s when I knew he meant it. I let go of his hands and cupped his face in mine which made him meet my gaze. I felt like crying just seeing his misery. “I know you are. You can take all the time you need. But you can’t fix the issue by avoiding it.”

    Jameson inhaled sharply and rose to his full height, shaking his head again and went to stand against the wall. “I can’t. I’m sorry but I can’t.” His voice had gone so quiet, I could barely hear him. I followed after him and while I stopped just far enough that he had some space, I still reached an arm out and placed my hand on his back. He flinched slightly but didn’t tell me to move it and I didn’t retract either.

    “Look, I’m sorry that this might be pushing you too far.” He didn’t say anything. “You can be mad at me like I am at you for tonight but in truth, I think you’re just mad at yourself.” His head tilted to my side and I saw his mouth open but I plowed on. “You don’t have to tell me anything about your past. You don’t have to clarify. We can pretend everything else is a game. But not this. You matter Jameson and hate me for telling you that but that’s something you’ll have to eventually admit to yourself. It doesn’t have to be out loud with anyone around. It just has to be you admitting to yourself that you matter because you do.”

    “I-”

    “And I know this sounds worse but there are people who care about you: your brothers, your Nan, your aunt, I think, and you know, I’d even say me. You matter to me, Jameson. I may not know too much about you but I know a bleeding heart when I see one, especially one who hates themselves. I’ve been there myself, Libby too.” That’s when I heard the broken laugh. 

    “You really don’t know when to quit, do you?”

    I shook my head. “Nope, why do you think I’m still here?” He turned around and leaned on the wall, eyes red and hair covering his right eye but he was smiling that crooked smile. It was raw and edgy but it looked good on him.

    My stomach did a little flip flop. Stop it, now’s not the time. I stepped closer to him, swiping at the forelock but when I pulled my arm back, he gently wrapped his fingers around my wrist and tugged me to him. I shuffled forward a little more till I was practically leaning on him and his other hand went to my hip. The hand that was entwined with his was resting on his chest and it seemed like he was mindlessly rubbing circles into the back of my hand, as if distracting himself. We stayed in silence for a few minutes which seemed to stretch into an hour. Finally, Jameson spoke up.

    “Listen, Heiress, I owe you an-”

    “I forgive you.” 

    He shook his head. “Nuh-uh-uh. Not so fast. You got to give your little speech without interruptions. Now that I am in the mood to talk, you want to interrupt? Tsk-tsk.” I arched an eyebrow at him and he simply winked. His voice lowered, “I’m warning you though, this might be a shitty apology.” Oh, I’m prepared for that. But I didn’t say that out loud, just nodded and waited for him to continue. 

    “Hmmm-ahh. Hah, I’m already failing this. I’m sorry for what happened back there and here. I know it was serious and could’ve been bad news for both of us.” He looked to my wound and brought a thumb over it, air tracing it but hovered so close to my skin that I could practically feel his touch. “I was worried about you, still am.” Then through his teeth I heard him mutter something more softly. It sounded something along the lines of “Maybe-something-always.” but I couldn’t be sure.

    “That wound could have been fatal and I am angry we didn’t spare that but it doesn’t change the fact you’re still here kicking. Avery, if there’s anything I can give you full credit for, it’s your tenacity. I admire that a lot.” I felt a smile tugging at my lips. “About the tree thing, um, that’s how I learned to push away all the bad stuff, by focusing on the next clue. Those Saturday games helped me learn to focus on one thing even when there was something in the back of my mind. And to your final point; you are right. If I got shot or died, Nash would find a way to bring me back just so he could whoop my ass.”

    I smirked at the last bit. “I’m sure he would. I could try to protect you, though.”

    “Heh, you can try. But I wasn’t wrong when I said this was a game.”

    “Jameson…”

    “Hear me out. This is a game, a dangerous one and because of the risks and stakes, this,” he pointed to my wound, “is exactly what can happen. People will be out for you, more now than ever. But, if you still want to find out why my grandfather chose you, then the reward is considered higher than the risk. However, that’s up to you. And I can go back myself because I know these grounds.” He stared at me intently and I knew what he implied with the unspoken words. He wants me safe. The feeling warmed me but turned to ice shards because I knew he still wanted to risk himself.

    I shook my head. “Jameson, you were with me. I don’t know if that person was potentially after you too. I don’t want you to risk yourself.” What if the bullet strikes its mark this time? I leaned my head against his chest but he didn’t let me be that way for long. He cupped the back of my head and made me look up at him.

    “Do you trust me?”

    “No.” He smiled.

    “Good. But do you trust that we’re a good team?” I bit my lip but nodded in the end. “I can take worse risks, Heiress, and I found ways out of shadier spots. I’ll look through the security logs to find a safe path to the tree, I can promise you that much. Also, tell Oren to block that fireplace entrance in your room.” I nodded frantically. Then, he whispered the quietest I ever heard him. “I know you don’t have reason to trust any of us but me and my brothers don’t have anything against you even though Gray was acting like you’re a conwom-,” I snorted while he briefly smirked but quickly turned serious again, “If there’s anything good the old man taught us it was loyalty to each other no matter the circumstance.”

    I nodded again for what felt like the hundredth time. Then, I carefully wrapped my arms around his upper torso and hugged him, burying my head into his shoulder. His went to the small of my back and I felt him rubbing circles into my shirt like earlier. “Thank you, that means a lot. I still think you’re an idiot for wanting to do this but I won’t stop you. I’ll even distract Oren.” 

    “Great, does that mean I can kiss you again?” I pulled away from him immediately and raised an eyebrow in question. He was smiling cheekily and winked. But his eyes held that same intensity when he was focused and were tempting me. Well? Will you? Before I could think twice, I pulled him down by his hoodie strings and pressed my lips to his hard. Jameson had no trouble catching on and he lifted me up by the thighs, letting me wrap my legs around his waist before readjusting his arms to my back. I also curled my arm around his shoulder and clutched the fabric of his hoodie at his shoulder blade. It was a deep kiss but it was sweet. Ok, so a bit sweet isn’t bad. 

    When we parted, I was panting but he wasn’t. What a shocker. Instead, he was observing my face and I could imagine what he saw; the cuts, raw and red, scratches from the bark. Before I could ask anything, he leaned close and pressed soft kisses to each one. I closed my eyes. When he kissed my forehead last and he pulled back, I opened them again to find him smiling softly at me. It made me smile too and I didn’t hesitate to lean forward again to give him a light kiss in thanks. 

    Unfortunately, at that same moment a hushed gasp came from the hall.

A/N: Hope you guys enjoyed that. See you next time. Also, I'm updating my master list of fics so the last few including this one will be there for you.

[ithinkabouttzu]

hello!

can i request a bob headcannon about the gn!reader having a cat that doesn't like the boys :)? feel free to skip this if you don't feel like writing it!

Easy co. reacting to their s/o having a cat that doesn’t like them!

a/n: Thank you for request love! i hope you enjoy!! 💗

genre: fluff!

warnings: swearing, a little jealousy?

description: Some of men from Easy reacting to their gn s/o having a cat that doesn’t like them!

taglist: @executethyself35 @linhkhanhcps @1waveshortofashipwreck @grumpy-liebgott @barbeygirl @samwinchesterslostshoe @ronsenthal @sweetxvanixlla @mstiemountainhop (If you want to be on this list, let me know!! :))

BoB masterlist

Dick Winters: Every time he’s at your place, he would just simply try to avoid your cat as much as possible. Like knowing that your cat doesn’t like him one bit, he’s not going to try and make friends with the little guy/girl. Maybe every once and while he’d buy your pet toys or treats for special occasions.

Lewis Nixon: It’s kinda pathetic how desperate he is to make your cat like him. Not because he likes cats a whole lot or anything but mostly because he wants to impress you. I could def see him whispering to your cat while you’re out of the room like, “hey you little fucker, why don’t you like me, huh?” He makes sure to get them a custom-made vat 69 chew toy.

Carwood Lipton: “Hey, you don’t have to be scared.” Unlike Winters he IS going to try and make friends with the little critter even after it’s been made clear that they don’t like him one bit lol. Everytime that he is over at your place he always greets your cat and immediately gets rejected by a hiss lol. He would sweetly talk to them when you’re sleeping like, “Your parent is the best person I know, you be good to them alright?”

Joe Toye: The feeling is surely mutual. You would probably think the feud between them two is hilarious. Like if your cat gives Joe that side eye look (that one all cats give) you better believe Joe is giving one right back to them. “Something is wrong with your cat, I think he/she’s plotting something evil.”

Joe Liebgott: He tries a good bit to be friends with your cat at first, but after a while he just learns to keep his distance after a good scratch on his arm. Even after that though you will always see Joe coming back to your place with treats, food, or toys. “I know you like me. You’re just trying to put up a front cuz’ i’m with your parent.”

Bill Guarnere: He has SERIOUS beef with your cat. Like the moment your cat even GLANCES at him he’s gonna say some dumb shit like, “Babe get your cat before he catches these hands” Lmaoo he’d never actually hurt your cat but he talks a big game to them alllll the time. Bill and your cat “act” like they don't like each other but then you’d see them secretly cuddling while you’re not paying attention.

George Luz: He’s kinda like Lip, willingly trying to play with your cat when they are just OVER it. Whenever the cat and him are alone it literally looks like the cat is babysitting Luz lmao. He would buy your cat a bunch of little fake rats and feather toys in hopes they would play with him. “Oh c’monn! You can’t act like you hate me forever!”

Bull Randleman: He’s gonna stay as far from the cat as possible. In all honesty, and he probably wouldn’t say this to you because he wouldn’t want you to get mad, but he HATES cats. 1. Because he’s allergic, 2. Because they’re always grumpy (In his words not mine.) He might pet cat a few times but that's about it.

Eugene Roe: “Don’t be afraid, I won’t hurt you I promise.” He’s so patient with your cat, it’s so freaking sweet. He doesn’t want to make your cat nervous or uncomfortable so he wouldn’t try pushing to play with him/her especially knowing that they don’t like him.

Floyd Talbert: He’s definitely gonna sit there and bribe your cat with treats for sure. Also saying shit like “You gotta start liking me someday, i’m gonna be your new dad soon” LMFAO. I have a feeling he would get oddly jealous over your cat if you were cuddling them and not him. “If you kiss them, you gotta kiss me too, yk?”

Skip muck: When you warn him that your cat isn’t very friendly and might get territorial his exact words are, “No way! I’m amazing with animals, practically a cat whisperer.” Pan to him a couple hours later keeping a three feet distance from your cat because it bit the shit out of his ankle and now he’s genuinely afraid of your cat. Let’s just say he’d keep his distance after that.

Don Malarkey: He would try being as friendly as possible with your cat (despite him being a very big dog person) at first, but once he realizes how much your cat actually hates him he gets kind of offended not gonna lie. “Honey, I’ve done almost everything to socialize with them, am I doing something wrong?”

Babe Heffron: He sneezes every time he’s around your cat soo much and he swears to you that he isn’t allergic. The beef all starts when he starts sneezing super hard around your place and it scares the fuck out of your cat. He doesn’t mean to antagonize them, but it just comes off that way with the loud ass sneezes, will buy a couple toys for them tho.

Shifty Powers: This man is the actual male version of snow white, so when you tell him your cat is a bit reactive and probably won’t like him he understands, but at the same time when he meets your cat he’s going to spend the rest of his night trying to get them to like him. (And it obviously works somehow because he’s an animal whisperer.)

Frank Perconte: “If that cat bites me or claws me, I'm swingin’.” Right from the moment he meets your cat he’s giving them the dirtiest looks EVER. Sometimes he feels like he’s definitely fighting for your attention whenever the cat is around. He might act like he’s your cat's biggest hater but in all honesty he loves them to death.

Ronald Speirs: He is ODDLY quiet around the cat. The only way I can describe the relationship is Brennan and Dale from Stepbrothers. They love each other, can't stand each other, but are also seen being together all the time? Both him and the cat will act like they don’t like eachother but they do.

Johnny Martin: He’s very willing to push for a relationship with your cat, even if they absolutely hate him. Mostly to make you happy and comfortable with them two being around each other. Whenever the cat hisses at him he loves to say that “they’re just warming up to me.” And it’s literally been 5 months LMAO.

Skinny Sisk: “Aw, aren’t you a little cutie?” The hate is so one-sided it’s horrible. He will desperately try to hangout with your cat while they actually want to bite his eyes out. “Here, let me feed them, maybe they’ll like me more if I do it.” Sweet baby is COMMITTED to making your cat like him.

Chuck Grant: Whenever he is at your place and sees your cat, he acts simply invisible. His reasoning is, if he acts like he isn't there then he practically is. He won’t go as far as to even look your cat in the eye. He might pet them once or twice but other than that he likes to keep his distance.

David Webster: He probably wants to read you an article on reactive cats and the proper way to fix the aggression coming from them of course. He wants to make sure your cat doesn't hate him for long. He would try playing a lot of calming music for animals and stuff like that when they are hanging out.

Buck Compton: He’s probably going to go out of his way to buy your cat all kinds of stuff like toys and treats but as far as interacting goes he doesn’t like to be around them for too long (especially when you aren’t there with him too lmao) he’s scared of your cat but definitely won’t admit that to you haha.

Again, thank you for requesting! If you enjoyed, make sure to like or reblog!! 💗

[lunaekalenda]

Any spare head-canons or scenarios for a needy Ren? 🥺🤲 Like maybe him waiting for you to come home from work dressed in nothing but your shirt and clinging to your pillows because it smells like you? Desperately rutting his hips into your bedsheets because your scent is everywhere and he just found your laundry? Whining out his Angel’s name over and over again because he needs them so bad? I’m down horrendous for him and its honestly embarrassing XD

of course, of course! thanks for asking and sorry for the wait! i'm also down bad don't worry it's normal

nsfw under the line · obsession, stalking, possessiveness, yandere behavior · be aware.

· there isn't a moment he hates more than when you have to leave the nice apartment he got when you both started dating. even when he keeps his old apartment, and you didn't care to sleep on it, as little as it was, probably because Ren has something on that flat you shouldn't see. And also, from where will he spy you whenever you go back home?

· If the case is you leaving to sleep at home and clean the apartment you're still paying and in which you pass some nights, with Ren or without him, it's easy. He still has all those little hidden cams and, with a quick walk to his old flat, he can have you again in front of the cam, changing clothes, after showering, and his favorite: missing him.

· If you're leaving for work, that's a whole new world. He doesn't have cams at your workplace -yet- and still, he finds new and creative ways to keep you clear-cut on his mind. First, he has all the audiovisual content he has been collecting since he discovered your apartment number. Pics, videos and audios from the most diverse types and only one purpose: make him hard.

· If he had to rank all the things he has from you, he would definitely put first your first time together. Just hearing you moan his name while his fingers tickle with the memory of you clenching around them makes his eyes shine with lust and his voice break with desire.

· In any ways, it's also common to find him wearing your clothes, specially, your t-shirts. Some of them are too loose for him, some too little, but he still hugs them and takes them to his nose with his eyes closed, imagining you're already there, with him, and not in that stupid work where he has no way to enter.

· He doesn't know how many co-workers you have, how many of them are attractive, how many of them flirt with you. Maybe some are too touchy and maybe some too flirty, but it isn't anything that can't be fixed. Just tell him, and he'll be more than glad to make those hands useless and cut those tongues off so his angel won't get those problems at work anymore and, hopefully, with an example, everyone in the department, no, in the whole company, will learn what happens when you try to touch his angel.

· But, in anyway, he spends most of the time admiring your pics together, remembering the date you had last week or admiring and kissing the ring you bought each other after a couple months together.

· The first hours are pretty easy: he watches a couple videos, probably touches himself to them, cleans the mess he leaves after and daydreams about you and him, and the perfect future both of you are gonna have if you stay by his side, because there isn't anything he wants to avoid more than killing you. Don't obligate him, angel, it's really easy. Why wouldn't you stay with someone who loves you this deep?

· If you're late, he stalks your social apps profiles and also your GPS location - it's not his fault that you sleep leaving the mobile phone so accesible and with a bunch of easy passwords.- He isn't more than a worried boyfriend. Why are you late? Maybe something happened to you... Maybe you're with someone while he waits for you at home.

· Other times, he makes chores. He helps with everything he can, and you can't agree more on how lucky you are for having such an attentive and helper boyfriend by your side. He insists on doing the laundry almost every day, even when you have warned him a couple times because some of your panties - specially, thongs. - have been missing for a while. Ren promises always to search them harder, thinking the washing machine might probably have a hole that makes your panties and only your panties disappear.

· Even when he washes his own underwear, socks and bras, you don't find suspicious that the only things missing are your panties. Ren likes to keep anything that strongly smells like you, usually, with kinky purposes: Likes to touch himself with your t-shirts on, to put them between his teeth to get the scent closer; to improvise a flesh-light with your pillow, the one you use for your pretty face, and your bedsheets, that still keep the smell of your gel; to wrap your underwear around his cock and to use it for his own pleasure. There are little things he enjoys, solo fun with you in mind.

· Already at night, your absence is unbearable for him. He calls you at the exact hour your turn finishes and sends you messages to know he should go and pick you up. Gets happy as a puppy whenever you text him a selfie for his private collection with the caption "I'm way home!"; but also get irremediably sad whenever you delay because of extra work. Sometimes, that sadness just makes him wait for you on the couch, pouting as your name escapes from his mouth.

· Other times, it makes him a little angry, but nothing that will transcend after putting you against the first surface he finds and remembering you that there's a boyfriend who loves his angel very much and waits for their return everyday to find them being late. Making him wait. But no worry at all, angel. Starting tomorrow, you'll probably keep a mic and a cam on so he can make sure you're being productive and not leaving him, alright?

[idontknowreallywhy]

Best Jupidad Moments #6 Nevermoor Ch 9 - What’s Really Important?

Right, I’m not going to lie, I’m struggling to differentiate between “the best Jupidad moments” and “ALL the Jupidad moments” as each one has its particular charm but… I’ll try to rein myself in!

First: trying exciting new things…

The bone-shaking terror she’d felt watching the platform speed towards her was washed away by a wave of adrenaline, and she let out a triumphant shout as they hooked on to the rail. Jupiter grinned, throwing his head back to enjoy the ride.

I especially love this moment right now because I recently took my daughter on her first proper rollercoaster ride. She wanted to do it, to start with, but got herself very worked up and tearful in the queue. Part of me wanted to just say “ok fine, we don’t have to do this today” but I feel like I know her fairly well(!) and I was sure she’d enjoy it and also be really proud of herself for facing her fear and going through with it. So instead I said “we’re going to do it, I think you’ll love it but if not it’ll be less than a minute, you’ll be safe and I’m with you and we never have to do it again”. Thankfully she did love it, but I did question myself and my parenting a lot in that queue!

Our Jupidad is making a similar call, albeit without the assurance of physical safety cos… Nevermoor… and sure enough this becomes one of Morrigan’s favourite things about living in the city. Did he know for sure she wouldn’t hate it? No. But he pushes her to try anyway.

I also suspect he’s running distraction here - she’s nervous about the garden party, so he gives her something else to focus on, where she gets a big old shot of adrenaline and arrives at the party thinking “wow, I did that!” which should take the edge off the nerves at least a little. Clever Jove.

He also lets her choose her own outfit, rather than forcing her into something that would make her either blend in with everyone else’s pastel vibe, or match his own flamboyant style…

… filled with people in light linen suits and pastel dresses. Jupiter had allowed Morrigan to choose her own outfit – a black dress with silver buttons, which Dame Chanda declared ‘smart, but utterly lacking in spectacle’. Morrigan thought Jupiter’s lemon-yellow suit and lavender shoes provided enough spectacle for both of them.

I think this is a pretty big deal actually and perhaps not something Morrigan would have foreseen after the “black isn’t a colour” conversation. Would it have been kinder to have said “I think everyone else will wear something more spring-ish”? It might have saved her from a couple of insults from Noelle… but the two of them were likely to clash anyway and isn’t it better to start making new friendships by being yourself? It’s easy to want to protect a child from getting splashed by social waves, but if you coddle them too much they won’t learn to swim in the sea.

There are some waves, however, that nobody should take to the face. Like raw sewage, radioactive waste, or Baz Charlton…

He was cut off by a sharp look from Jupiter, his mouth left hanging open. ‘Consider your next words carefully, Mr Charlton,’ Jupiter said in the low, cold voice that Morrigan had heard from him only once before, on Eventide at Crow Manor. She shivered.

Baz Charlton closed his mouth. Jupiter stepped aside, releasing the long-haired man from his gaze and allowing him to stumble away. He sighed as he smoothed down his yellow suit and gave Morrigan’s shoulder a quick squeeze. ‘Told you. Odious man. Pay no attention.’

I really want to know what the deal is with Jupiter’s low, cold voice because it really freaks everyone out! I wonder how often he uses it other than in Mog-defence-mode? It’s a very effective way of protecting Morrigan here and although I think we’d all like to see Baz dropped from a great height into a skip, I really appreciate how there’s no physical threat used.

Enjoying yourselves?’ Jupiter wandered over with a placid smile, ignoring the stream of servants rushing past with nets and brooms. Morrigan chewed the side of her mouth guiltily. ‘A bit.’

Ha, I love the image of that smile where he knows exactly what’s gone on here. I also adore the fact that Morrigan has somehow befriended the one child out of 500 who is probably the most like Jupiter was at school 😅

Plus the moment of mirroring later when she asks Jove a question she knows the answer to:

‘I’m here illegally, aren’t I?’

Jupiter chewed the side of his mouth. ‘A bit.’

How do they debrief later? Not with a “so, what did you think of Wunsoc?” but…

‘You made a friend.’ ‘I think so.’

‘Anything else of interest?’

Morrigan thought for a moment. ‘I think I made an enemy too.’

‘I didn’t make my first proper enemy until I was twelve.’ He sounded impressed.

Oh poor Morrigan, you’re going to rack up a few of those pretty soon. Thanks to Jupidad for making that sound like an achievement rather than a character flaw 😬

‘Promise you’ll think about it?’

‘Only if you promise you’ll stop thinking about not getting into the Society.’

‘But if I don’t get in—’

‘We’ll blow up that bridge when we come to it.’ Morrigan sighed. Just give me a straight answer, she thought. But she said no more.

Jupiter ushered Morrigan down the hall ahead of him. ‘Now. Tell me more about your resourceful new friend. Where in the Seven Pockets did he find a barrel full of toads?’

And just like that he brings it back round to what should be important to an 11 year old - friends, having fun, new experiences - and sharing the excitement of these things with a parental figure is such a precious and vital part of the relationship. Jupiter proves he is as interested in these details of her life as much if not as more than the big picture “what does the future hold, what is my purpose?” kind of stuff that threatens to take over.

This is maybe my favourite thing about Jupidad - how he constantly values her as a person (and as part of that her everyday life experience) above everything else, even though he is confronted with the BIG thing that makes her particularly important to the world every single time he looks at her.

[crazyk-imagine]

Movie Marathon

Pairing: Ben “Benny” Miller x GN!Reader 

Characters: Ben “Benny” Miller, GN!Reader, William “Will” “Ironhead” Miller (briefly mentioned), Santiago “Tago” “Pope” Garcia (breifly mentioned), Isabela Morales (briefly mentioned)

Warnings: Slight angst (hardly any), fluff, bad day at work, stress crying, cursing (nothing too bad), mentions of snot, sad comfort movies to get the sad out followed by a legit comfort movie, Benny is a sweetheart, 10 Things I Hate about You references

Word Count: 2,062

A/N: Requested on Wattpad by @princessmermaid1289​​

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Why couldn’t things just be easy? Like seriously, who came up with the idea of a bad day. It sucks when you have a normal day and minor issues occur but it’s worse when you deal people at work just being absolute assholes. 

You zone out, your most recent Playlist of the week playing in the background as your bottom lip wobbles. 

You sniffle, take a deep breath, and close your eyes. 

Maybe if you lean your head back and- a few tears trickle down your cheeks. You quickly wipe them away before starting your car, driving to the one place you know can bring you comfort, something you crave right now. 

-

It takes a couple shakes for you to push the house key into the keyhole before you can turn it. You swear the key and door hate you, you’ve mentioned to Benny, your boyfriend of three and a half years, who you’ve lived with for about eight months now. 

The scent of his cologne lingers, bringing a small, short-lived smile across your lips. You wonder how long it’ll be before he comes home. It feels like it’s been days since you’ve seen him, which is a little true. 

He’s currently preparing for a fight (as far as you know) after being out of town for the weekend so he and the guys could have a bachelor party for Tago (he finally asked Yvonna to marry him). 

You set your bag down onto the nightstand, your keys clank as they land beside it. 

Finally, you’re in a quiet and safe environment; not that your work wasn’t safe or anything but when your coworkers are being absolute dick heads, it tends to not feel so nice. 

-

You plop onto the bed, debating if you should stay in your clothes or change into something comfy while you curl up in bed… you sit up, taking off your shoes and socks, tossing each item out of your way not in the mood to trip tonight. 

It would also save Benny from getting another bruise (and not from his opponent). 

Okay, now you love Benny, you do so so much but, even if you (and he) don’t want to admit it, he can’t always win his fights to which he replies with, “you weren’t there with me. I didn’t have my good luck charm.” 

It sounds a little bit like bullshit, but you can’t help the butterflies fluttering around inside you when you hear them. 

You think about how he's gonna react at the sight of you practically cocooned in bed, looking as sad as you feel while watching your sad comfort movies (The Notebook followed by Marley and Me) to help get the rest of the sadness out of you. 

You push that thought aside while clicking the Notebook. You were able to get through the Notebook with a less than the box of tissues left (that’s better than last time). 

You switch and click Marley and Me, not paying attention to the opening credits as you check your phone finding a couple of emails from your fellow co-workers. 

You sigh and toss your phone to the side unable to handle anything else that’s work related, you’ve officially checked out for the day. 

Your eyes start to close around the middle part of Marley and Me when the sound of the front door being slammed shut, alerts you. 

You know it’s your boyfriend, so you’re not scared but you wonder what’s got him in such a bad mood. You can hear him kicking off his shoes and the way they slam against the floor. 

Maybe he had a bad fight today, you hope that’s not the case; it’s never good when Benny’s upset (honestly, it’s never nice when either of you aren’t happy) but maybe a nice night in bed is all you two need. 

You open your mouth to call out for him when he enters your shared room and drops his gym bag in front of the closet and plops onto the bed beside you. 

You turn, laying on your side, tangling your hand in his hair. 

Neither of you say anything for a while, letting the movie become background noise just knowing the other one is there helps make the end of the day a little better. 

Benny removes his gaze from the ceiling and glances over at the TV realizing you’re also not having a good day. “Hey,” he mumbles, chin resting on his shoulder as he looks at you. 

You don’t want him to see how bad you currently feel and continue starring at the screen. 

“Hey.” 

He moves your hand away off his head so he can turn on his side, “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing.” 

“I know somethings bothering you, spill it.” 

“I have nothing to share, besides it seems like you had a rougher day than I did.” 

“I’m not taking that as an answer, and you know it. C’mon, tell me what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours.” 

“It’s not important.” 

“It’s important to me.” 

“You’re just saying that.” 

“No, I’m not. You let me tell you when somethings bothering me, why can’t you tell me?” 

“It’s nothing, it’s- it’s stupid to complain about anyway.” 

“If it made you upset where you had to cry and watch the Notebook followed by Marley and Me, then it’s not. I tell you stupid stuff that I complain about all the time like today. This guy got a little rough during practice and I was kicked out for this fight because he clocked me in the head, and I was bleeding.” 

You push yourself up, gently grabbing his head, turning it towards you. “You’re bleeding?! Why didn’t you tell me?” 

His hands curl around your wrists, pulling them down so he set one in the place where his neck and shoulder meet while he pecks at the knuckles of your free hand. “I’m fine now. No major injuries today. Now, can you please tell me what happened?” 

“Do you really want to hear about all this?” 

He chuckles, “I know I don’t listen to Will all the time but if it’s you talking to me, about anything, then I’m all ears.” 

You pout in disbelief over this but rant to him about what happened at work and how the emails won’t stop coming in. 

“Wow.” 

“Wow? That’s all you have to say.” 

“You didn’t let me finish. Wow… you have a shitty job.” 

“Benny,” you scoff, smacking his chest. He smiles, staring at you with half his face deep into the pillow. 

“What’s that look for?” 

“Nothing,” he shrugs, “just staring at the beautiful person I get call my partner.” 

You roll your eyes, unable to fight the smile that surfaces across your lips. 

Benny can always find a way to make you feel better and you’ll never understand how that is. He drops his arm around your waist, “come ‘ere.” 

You scoot closer after Benny plops onto his back. Your head rests over his heart, you listen to the way it beats at a semi-irregular pace, not too much to where you think you have to take him to a hospital but enough to let you know that you’re the reason (which fills you with joy, distracting you from your sad day). 

Your eyes start to close again, you guess confiding in your boyfriend about what whatever it is that’s bothering you is a good thing. You can feel him moving but don’t care enough to open your eyes until you hear him sniff. 

You angle your head to look at him, watching as he tries to wipe away his tears before they fall (only to fail). “Are you crying?” You fight to hide your giggles; he never cries whenever you watch these movies but then again, you’ve usually finished them before he comes home. 

“No,” he sniffs again, “shut up… where did you put the tissues?” 

You grab the box and hand it to him. You can’t help but ask, “have you never seen these movies?” 

“If I know they’re sad movies, why am I going to watch them?”

 You shrug, “I don’t know.” 

The movie ends and you reach over and into the bottom drawer of your nightstand for a new box of tissues since your oh so caring boyfriend won’t share. 

“Can we watch your actual comfort movie now?” 

You let out a quiet, tearful chuckle as you throw away your snot filled tissue. “Yeah, let’s do that.” You pat the spot where you thought you left the remote only to find nothing. “I can’t find the remote.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“If it’s not in my hand then I don’t have it.” 

“Okay, okay. Watch where you direct that attitude, please.” 

“Roll over.” 

“Okay, I know I said we should try something new, but I don’t think-” 

A mix between a scoff and a chuckle escapes you, “Benny!” 

“Okay, I’m moving.” He’s on the side and you do, in fact, find the remote. “Got it. Now, lay back down. I wanna cuddle.” 

“I can definitely do that.” He pulls you closer as the beginning credits for 10 Things I Hate about You come on the screen. “Why do you like this movie so much if you’re not a fan of the “bet” trope?” 

“I don’t have an exact answer but I’m gonna go with the acting- and how do you know about the different kinds of tropes? I’ve never once heard you talk about this with anyone.” 

“You don’t know the kinds of conversations I have with Isabela... and I may have overheard you talking with Maria a while ago and I wanted to, you know, learn more about these things so we could have something else to talk about.” 

Your bottom lip starts to quiver, you try to hide the fact that you’re crying but it’s hard to when you have such a caring boyfriend who does nice things to further bond with you. You don’t think you can remember any of your boyfriends doing that before which makes this ten times more heartwarming. 

“Wait. Wait. Why are you crying? Did I say something wrong? Is this not the right movie?” 

You don’t respond and it freaks him out more. 

“I’m gonna need you to talk to me because I’m freaking out over here.” 

“No,” you shake your head. “You did nothing wrong. You’re just so sweet and it’s like you don’t even know it.” 

“Oh,” he’s cut off when you lean up to kiss him with everything you have to give. 

You pull back, needing to get air into your lungs. 

Benny blinks, “thanks?” 

You smile, knowing he’s a little out of it because you just laid a big, wet one on him and he had no time to prepare for it. “Believe me, it was for your pleasure.” 

“Is that how it is?” Benny hovers over you, his arms straight in a “girl push-up” position. “Because the way I see it, it’s for your pleasure.” 

The corners of your tug upwards, you follow along with the queen heinous bitch, Kat Stratford, “Am I that transparent? I want you; I need you. Oh, baby. Oh, baby.” 

His head drops down, chin close to his chest as he chuckles. “Damn, I guess I underestimated how many times you’ve watched this movie.” 

“Yes, and now that you know, lay down and keep quiet.” 

“So bossy,” he mutters under his breath. 

You shush him and tuck yourself back into his side. 

-

After finishing the movie, Benny winds up ordering from your favorite fast-food place and you search for the show you two started last week, feeling you two should begin to end the day with a bit of laughter. 

You take a quick shower while Benny answers the guy’s texts about their fittings (surprisingly, Santiago can be such a worry nelly). 

-

You toss your dirty clothes in the hamper and crawl into bed, barely settling in when he pulls you closer to him so you’re lying on his chest. 

It’s no surprise when you wind up falling asleep before him even with the TV playing a random movie, his heartbeat was the thing to lull you into a deep and peaceful slumber. 

It seems as though the day that you two thought was never going to end wound up becoming a damn good night.

[thegeminisage]

star trek update time. last night we did ds9's "apocalypse rising" and voy's "false profits." sssssigh

apocalypse rising (ds9):

this one was...fine. i think it speaks highly about ds9's storytelling that i'm always really excited by the big action-y episodes in voyager and to some extent tng, but in ds9 they're just kind of boring, because the character and plot stuff is way meatier.

i did NOT like the klingon look on odo and obrien. 196 was way too late to be putting these men in what was all but blackface. HOW DID NO ONE NOTICE THE IRISH ACCENT? there are not any real klingons out here doing that. also, there are white klingons. there were white klingons in tos AND ds9. there's no excuse to be doing this

sisko looked great though. wow <3

i think worf got called a pussy again in this episode. can we please give it a rest

odo liking the bubbles in his drink :( odo discovering alcoholism :(

it WAS a fun twist that the shifter wasn't really gowron. i'm so glad too because i would have missed him and his huge fucking eyes so much

false profits:

episodes that nearly made me black out with rage!!!!

i do have one nice thing to say about this episode and it's that i did like the callback to some very obscure tng lore. that episode WAS the first time they ever mention the delta quadrant, there WAS a wormhole involved, and this was all long before the show voyager was a twinkle in paramount's eye, and i'm pleased when little stuff like that gets remembered. i bet there were trekkies on emssage boards in 1996 going Well Actually Why Don't We Remember Season 3 of TNG Why Can't They Get Back That Way and this did at least. answer the question

where to begin...oh, actually, the mostly-naked women with no lines. and it's like haha funny! jesus fucking christ. also haha funny! when they hit themselves or other people. so true! hilarious!

the co-opting of religion and these stupid fucks still go along with it. if you religion tells you to make labor slaves out of your family find a new one! it's like all the old people voting republican. they're coming for YOUR benefits you stupid fucks

even leslie jordan could not make the ferengi funny or appealing in any way. sorry leslie jordan

janeway like oh yeah if their gods were gone they'd be sad :( my ideals :( THIS IS TWO EPISODES IN A ROW. DO YOU HAVE IDEALS OR NOT. like, show some consistency! who is paying so much attention they remember season 3 lore from tng but not janeway's basic personality!!!!!!!

and how stupid also not to simply take them by force when, if this was happening in the alpha quadrant, janeway would make a few phone calls, starfleet would call ferenginar and be like "get your people or we will," and then they would have to leave. jesus christ

and then when neelix is actually making some progress he breaks immediately...come on. this was such a stupid problem with a hundred easy solutions

the icing on the cake though is that the ferengi ruined their chance of using the wormhole to get home...like obviously we know this episode isn't gonna be it, but in-universe it's incredibly frustrating, and demoralizing, and it feels like such a cruel thing to have happened for no reason when the rest of the episode is haha funny! there are a million ways you could have done this without it feeling so mean-spirited - in reality, a setback like this would weigh everyone down for days, if not weeks or months, but i'm sure it will never get mentioned again

anyway, horrible episode, i hated it

TONIGHT: ds9's "the ship," and also star war :/

[bitterrobin]

list of the character dynamics I plan on writing for the TAXONOMY!verse. Mostly here in order to remind myself of the ideas I have.

Bette Kane/Tom Bronson

Have they ever interacted in canon? no. Will I still create a crack ship that probably no one else will like? yes. Unfortunately my brain has latched onto them, so expect to see more of them in the au.

Neither of them are the type to be open with their real feelings, but are casual with intimacy. Maybe a little too easy with it, but they understand each other's need. Bette is straightforward, determined. Tom avoids personal conversation, especially about himself, but he's very observant. They both will feel something, both will side-step and redirect. Bette is inherently lonely, Tom always feels out of place. It takes a while before they actually confide in each other. Tom is still mourning Grant and the idea of what could have been, Bette is tired and lost and still figuring out what to do with her life when so many others reject her resolve. Bette needs to be a hero, needs to feel like she has a purpose. Tom never wanted to be a hero, but he needs the company that being one provides. Gotham is a terrible place to land when you're hurting, but they make the most of it. (Also they have a terrible child to co-babysit on top of all of this.)

Bette Kane, Damian Wayne

Bette takes none of his threats or jabs seriously. Damian is horrified that they're related. Bette loves Damian bc he's somewhat easier to communicate with than other children (who act their age) but also he's a bundle of nerves and trauma - so she's still careful and and little bewildered. She lets him have space, but she's always ready to pay attention to him at the drop of a hat bc no one did when she was a child. She respects his opinion, and tries to reason with him. Because Bette has only heard of the League, not become involved with it, she's able to have a less biased view on his childhood. Damian is aghast at her supposed ignorance. He does not recognize her strength of character. He's used to the fearful or emotionally closed women of the League. In the end, Bette recognizes that she has to set limits and boundaries and Damian learns to accept a life with a degree of normalcy.

Bette is sad to see him go, but she knows how important a name like Robin is. She wants Damian to find purpose on his own, but she leaves him the gift of "normal things" like sports and acting.

Tom Bronson, Damian Wayne

Damian will say the most gory threat imaginable, Tom will reply: "haha ok, little buddy" they are one step away from duking it out. Tom simultaneously thinks of Damian as a little brother and a pain in the ass. But they're not related, so Tom will not feign complete responsibility over him. He observes and waits, wipes his hands clean and sets him loose. Maybe he dispenses harsh truths once in a while, maybe he cuts too deep once. Damian will return the favor. Tom allows himself to be vulnerable rarely, and explains absent fathers and mothers who are there and then gone too soon. Damian reluctantly sees himself, and hates it. Tom recognizes his sarcasm as an emotional outlet similar to his own, and encourages every insult Damian makes. Maybe its too enabling, but frankly Tom doesn't care. Let the kid be an asshole once in a while, as a treat. You do not want to be on the receiving end of both of their ire.

Tom gives him a kitten as an inside joke, an acknowledgement of his personal growth - before Damian goes to live with the new Batman and become Robin.

Damian Wayne, Chris Kent

Way more plausible than the one above. I am a Jon Kent hater. I fully believe in the made up interactions in my head between these two kids instead. Everyday I cope and seethe that they never interacted in canon bc they were introduced so close together!! in 2006!! They have so many parallels and interesting conversations to be had! Damian is angry that Chris is allowed to move on from his trauma. That Clark and Lois are able to give him closure, when Bruce is dead and Talia needs to stay separated from him. He is angry that he will forever suffer the what ifs because he can never confront his grandfather or parents the way Chris did with Zod and Ursa. Chris cannot fathom taking out his anger on other people. He can't imagine pushing others away because he was always alone in Fort Rozz, he wants a family. He is horrified of this aggressive boy, but he's still kind nonetheless. Maybe punches are thrown initially, but in the end they understand each other in small ways other people just can't. They are not their parents, but some people can't look past that. Chris forever denounces his biological parents, Damian is shackled by their expectations and the weight of their romance turned into a battle of wills.

Maybe in the future it'll become a ship but that's a long way off. It would need way more development, more time in-between fics, and Damian needs to mature and figure things out. Their potential friendship is more important than anything romantic.

Cassandra Cain, Jason Todd

Mostly here bc of differences in philosophy, they're the central conflict surrounding the idea of Batman. Cassandra doesn't care about the city, she cares about the people. No one dies. Ever. Not in her watch. She could care less about complicated morality, because if she could change (she, the murderer, the sinner) then everyone can. Batman is not about Bruce Wayne, it is about saving everyone who can be saved. Bruce is the ideal, but Cassandra is better. She wins, no matter what. Batman is instinct, action and duty. Jason cares about the city, this wretched place where he was born. The people are negotiable, ranked and categorized by his own arbitrary rules. You are good, or you are an evil that must be wiped out. Batman is tied to Bruce Wayne, it shouldn't be. It is about controlling Gotham. Batman holds the reins, anything that happened on his watch is Bruce's fault - Jason will be better. Batman is planning, watching, and culling. Both can be right, both can be wrong. They were messy and complicated. They need to beat each other senseless before they can reach a conclusion. Cassandra gains Batman, and Jason gains a fragile understanding.

[theotheroccassionalfanficwriter]

Lol I decided to be brave and not to hide using the anon mask. 🌝🤡

Have you ever thought about this NSFW/Explicit possessive Zhongli pounding reader in front of their stalkers? Like, there are these weird stalkers who always take a peek at reader whenever they got the chance. Zhongli finally had enough of it and decided to show them who owns this puss—🤐

"Pity. A mere human cannot touch what's mine. You see this seal on her abdomen? Yes, it means my seed is there to take place."

🥵💦 water pls

Thank you for waiting! ╰(￣ω￣ｏ)

Also you're tougher than all of the U.S. Marine for going non-anon lmao mad respect (≧∀≦)ゞ From the moment I saw your asked I knew it would awaken something in me and it did lmao it took me so long since I had to make sure I'd have enough horny vocab for this lmao and so let me water and quench your thirst now lmao.

Thanks for the first ever womb tattoo ask. Photo of the womb tattoo included.

CW: Public Sex, Mind Break, Dub-con

Marking You Gently

Summary: Zhongli appreciated how you were honest with him by revealing how your past lovers were run off by the amount of stalkers you had and he was pleased with how dependent you were on him to get rid of them, he just never thought he'd have to resort to drastic measure to stake his claim not that he was complaining.

--

Zhongli was keenly aware of your innate ability to attract stalkers. This much you had admitted to him when he had been on the receiving end of a particularly foolish one. Of course, this had not deterred him from courting you at all, if any, he had enjoyed the challenge of keeping you safe and staking his claim on you to your stalkers.

And you were so cooperative too, you had let him gift you accessories in his colors and wore it proudly on a day to day basis. That you spent most nights in his bed and company only made his win sweeter. Zhongli strived to ensure that you would be happy and content in a relationship with him and if that meant curbing his own stalkerish tendencies...well...it was a small price to pay.

It was this confidence that led him to not properly pay attention when one of your stalkers had gotten particularly...courageous.

“Zhongli~” you whined at him, worry and annoyance in your eyes, as you clung to his arm. Your soft breasts and erect nipples were a welcome sensation to his arm, “I can’t find some of my panties~”

Zhongli thought for a moment, trying to remember if he had forgotten to return some of your panties he had used to fap with, “Have you checked the laundry?”

“I did!” You were tearing up, voice about to cry “I-I think some of them got it again…” You clutched at his arm tightly shivering at the thought of your stalkers being able to easily invade Zhongli’s tightly warded home.

At your words, all thought of fingering your bare pussy fell out of Zhongli’s mind, he didn’t like seeing you scared and teary eyed. He kissed your forehead, removing his arm from the tender clutches of your soft breasts and enticing nipples to give you a tender hug of comfort.

“Why don’t you accompany me for a while? Until I catch those disgusting vermin?” Zhongli offered, soft smile on his face as he gently rubbed your back.

“Will Hu Tao be fine with that?” You asked, uneasy at inconveniencing the first boyfriend to ever care about you this much.

“Of course” Zhongli replied, kissing you sweetly on your lips.

It was easy then to use sex to calm your frightened self, Zhongli’s kiss grew heated and lascivious as his hands drew teasing circles on your ass and thighs, squeezing it in intervals before teasingly grazing on the folds of your pussy. He squeezes your ass cheeks, spreading it apart before he firmly places his hand below your ass to grab you up.

You cooperate with him, moving your legs to firmly hug his waist, your wet pussy rubbing against his erect cock. You moaned into his kisses, body shivering with delight as you clung to his body.

“Mn~” You moaned as your tongue entwined with his.

The wet sound of kissing seemed loud in Zhongli’s quiet apartment, the panting noises coming from the two of you could be heard clearly. As Zhongli placed you on top of his dining table, hands going under your shirt to fondle your soft breasts and play with your erect nipples.

“Haaa~” You panted as your body arched with pleasure, Zhongli’s long and thick cock was rubbing against your clit.

“Just leave everything to me” He said, as he laid reverent kisses on top of your stomach. Leaving a trail of hickeys that led to your throat. He had already ripped your shirt off your body, exposing your breasts that still carried last night’s marks and your erect nipples which still had his teeth marks surrounding it.

“Forget about all those unpleasant things, my love” He crooned as he kissed you on the pulse beside your neck. His free hand was teasing your wet pussy, fingering it until he knew that you would be able to take all of him all the way in.

“Zhong-” You moaned “-please! Put it in!” You begged brokenly as his masterful ministrations on your body left you a panting and moaning mess.

Zhongli hummed in satisfaction, “And what do we say?”

“Plea-please” You began shakily, “put your co-cock in my slutty pushy!”

You fumbled on the last word, moaning it out as Zhongli thrusted his thick cock inside you in one strong move, not bothering to wait until you finished speaking. He moved his hips back and forth, the head of his cock hitting your g-spot again and again until you could only moan and call out his cock with a loving voice.

You were oblivious to the predatory grin in Zhongli’s face or the way his eyes glinted dangerously as his mind thought of a solution to your ability to attract stalkers. He licked his lips, growing aware of the change in his teeth to fangs.

He bent over to suck on your nipples, his hands preoccupied with keeping your legs spread apart as he thrusted his cock against your wall.

You keened, your body arching and pussy clenching on his dick as you came, Zhongli moaned as he came with you, spilling his seed inside your clenching pussy and uterus, he spilled so much cum, as if he had not just creampied you last night until the early hours of the morning.

He collapsed on top of you as you lay limply on the table, panting and pussy twitching from the earth shattering orgasm you had.

“Have you heard of womb tattoos?” Zhongli asked as he lovingly and gently cradled your face, kissing you on your cheek.

You blushed, “No, I haven’t.”

He hummed, not bothering to unseathe himself from your warm and comfortable pussy, “It is typically used for lewd purposes,” Zhongli explained as he let his hand drop from your face, gently tracing a line from your neck, passing through your left tit, playfully rubbing your nipple, before he ultimately ends it on the area above your crotch “But it can also be used as a way to repel...shall we say your disgusting stalkers?”

You let out a soft “oh!”

“Would it be painful?” You asked, worried that tattooing it on that area would be too much for your pain tolerance.

“It wouldn’t” Zhongli assured you “I would never let you feel any pain.”

He smiled at you with so much affection that you easily agreed to his solution, you didn’t bother to give any input to what Zhongli was going to do, you had so much trust in him that you simply waited for the day he’d marked you and solved your most annoying and hated problem.

You hadn’t thought to ask what it would do, believing that Zhongli would make the tattoo a repellent against your stalkers. Which wasn’t wrong per se, it wasn’t until the tattoo was put into use did you register what it would actually do.

--

For Zhongli, it was normal blissful week of having you in his arms, regaling you with Liyue’s rich history and flirting with you as a gentleman would. It was his day off, and thus he had brought you to Wangshu Inn for a short staycation for the weekend. His strong presence at your side had deterred even your most courageous and stubborn stalkers, not that it had stopped them from trying to take a peek at you when you bathed or changed clothes.

A quick petrification to some of the most vile ones was an easy way to scare off the rest of them. By the time he was done turning some of them into stone, you were finished with your business and happily ensconced yourself into his arms. Purposefully not paying attention to the new additions on the inn’s decoration.

“Shall I take you to solve some geo puzzles?” He offered, his hand resting lowly on your hip, just above your crotch, firmly gripping you at the sides.

“Okay~!” You happily complied, leaning even closer to him much to his visible satisfaction.

While you were happily clinging into Zhongli, listening to his engaging explanation of how the mechanism worked and its purpose, you were unaware of the group of stalkers that were watching you from behind. They were lying on the ground, using the natural reflective surface of the water to take a peek at your crotch that was exposed due to the crotchless panties Zhongli had you wear underneath your clothes.

From their binoculars, they could see how wet you were, cum dribbling slowly out of your pussy that had them salivating and achingly hard. They were imagining that it was their cock being shoved to your exquisite pussy, that it was their cum that was dribbling down the folds of your thoroughly used cunt.

They were so immersed in their fantasy that they had not noticed Zhongli’s murderous glare as he sealed them together as if they were Azhdaha.

“It seems that none of you had learned the lesson” He spoke coldly, glaring with complete and uncharacteristic derision in his eyes as he watched them visibly turn pale.

You stood behind Zhongli, trembling with fear, you had never seen him quite this mad. It wasn’t until he had pulled you to the front, your dress shoved up to your waist and exposing your wet cunt and glowing tattoo did your heart start beating faster.

“Zho-zhongli?” You called out to your lover, trembling in his arms, as your legs shookt from the lecherous looks of your stalkers.

“Don’t worry my love, it’s about time for them to know who owns you” He whispered in your ear, making your pussy visibly throb and grow wetter.

You could feel your mind slowly turning hazy as your body heated up. The tattoo glowed brightly as Zhongli began fingering you. You were helpless and growing weaker, only capable of leaning on his chest, weakly grasping on the sleeves of his clothes as you began to moan.

Your legs automatically spread themselves, exposing the pink and cum-filled inside of your pussy, letting your stalkers know that Zhongli had thoroughly fucked and came inside your pussy earlier.

“Zhong-nnn!” You tried to call his attention, wanting to put a stop at his action but as his fingers curled inside your cunt, you let out a seductive moan that went straight to the cocks of every male in your vicinity.

“Good girl,” Zhongli praised as he watched your hand reach for the zipper of his pants, “Show them how much you want my cock.”

You nodded, eyes hazy, as you turned around and shakily knelt on the ground, your hands fumbled to get his cock out. You happily mouthed through the fabric of his pants as you tried to get his thick and long cock out of its constraints. Zhongli’s large hand was a comforting weight on your head, petting you as praises flowed out of his mouth.

“Such a good slut, not needing more instructions on her master’s part” He praised “Look at you happily fucking your mouth to my cock the moment you see it.”

You senselessly blowed his dick, tongue swirling on its tip and swallowing all of length until it hit the back of your throat again and again. You had long since forgotten about your stalkers or the fact that you were giving them a show.

Your mind was filled only with the thought of Zhongli’s cock and his cum. You whined when you felt him pull away, crying at the lost of the warm and comforting weight of his cock on your tongue.

“Shhhh” He appeased you, “turn around love, put your hands on the wall of the seal.”

You did as he said, body automatically positioning itself to a lewd pose, your tits were pressed on the wall of the seal, making your stalkers gulp and try to reach for it only to be electrified by the seal’s wall.

Zhongli smirked at their audaciousness.

“Cock~! I want your want cock~!” You cried out as you bent your body further, until your ass was pushed up to the air, shaking your hips to entice Zhongli. Your legs were spread apart to show him the pussy he loved and owned.

“Good girl” Zhongli purred as he took his cock and guided it to the folds of your pussy. He teased your cunt, sliding the head of his cock up and down the wet folds of your pussy making you whine and try to push your pussy towards his cock.

He slapped your ass, “Behave.”

You did as you were told, there was no autonomy in your mind anymore, the glowing symbol on your abdomen had thoroughly wiped out any sense in your brain. Zhongli had reduced you to walking, talking flesh light.

With a look of superiority, Zhongli thrusted his cock inside your waiting pussy, he maintained eye contact with your stalkers as he fucked you from behind. He mercilessly plunged his cock in your abused pussy, ramming it again and again against your cervix, the pain turning into pleasure. Each thrust of his had the tattoo glowing drawing attention to it as you moaned and drooled from the pleasure. You were no longer the proper and energetic lady that was known in Liyue.

Zhongli’s cock and womb tattoo had reduced you to this lewd slut that craved his cock and cum. Your mind was filled with sex and pleasure, begging him for more,

“Please! Give me your seed!” You cried “Breed me! Ahn~!”

Zhongli watched as some of your stalkers threw away their dignity and started fapping to your lewdness.

He pulled you away from the wall, hoisting you up and fucking you as your arms automatically wrapped itself backwards on his neck. He made out with you sloppily while his cock fucked your pussy, bulge visible on your stomach and slightly deforming the glowing tattoo.

You came from the immense pleasure but Zhongli didn’t bother stopping even as you lay limp and unconscious in his arms. He kept on fucking you, hands groping your wildly bouncing chest as your stalkers started pumping their cocks faster.

He turned to them and taunted, “Pity. A mere human cannot touch what's mine.” He placed a kissed to the side of your throat as his eyes grew darker and his voice dripped with possessiveness that belonged to a dragon, “You see this seal on her abdomen?”

He smiled darkly as he saw recognition on their eyes, it was only natural for them to know what it was considering that they all had the same thoughts towards you. The difference was that he had won and they were losers, pitiful humans who would never have you nor have you sire their spawn.

With great delight, Zhongli crushed all of their dreams as he confirmed the worst of their thoughts, “Yes, it means my seed is there to take place."

And then he spilled all of his cum inside your pussy, spilling it all the way through your uterus as the mark glowed brightly before slowly dimming and sinking back beneath your skin.

It was a clear sign that Zhongli had successfully impregnated you.

“Don’t ever step foot in Liyue again” He ordered, eyes glowing bright as he cursed them out of the land.

He left with you in tow, fixing your clothes and pushing back the cum that dripped on the inside of your thighs back to your pussy. Zhongli smiled at your sleeping form, content and pleased with the knowledge that none of your stalkers would ever bother you again.

“I wonder how you would act with other variations of this tattoo?”

[bluenadesu]

"Can't or can?"

Mista Guido x Reader

↓↓↓↓↓↓

You groan, tugging down the tight dress down your body. Grabbing the walkie talkie, you complain. "This is like some cheesy movie! Why do I have to do this?" Pretending to be a prostitute to lower the owners guard so he'd confess to illegal dealings? So cheesy!

"Well, unless you want to see Abbacchio in a cocktail dress punching the shit out of someone, we're gonna have to settle with you."

"I'd love to see that. I'd pay to see that." Hearing no response from the walkie talkie, You safely concluded Fugo was ignoring you. You pouted and threw the walkie talkie back to the front seat. Finishing putting on the fishnet stockings. You check your makeup and put some final touches in the form of glitter. If you were going to do this than you were going to look fabulous damnit.

It wasn't like you hated dressing up, in fact you loved it. But having lived talking, walking, and acting like a boy for most of your life, it was hard to just suddenly act feminine. Especially after you joined the bucciarati gang, pretending to be a man. Well, you we're really pretending per se, they just assumed you were a guy and you didn't bother saying anything. It was better than having them treat you delicately just cause you're a girl.

But anyways, most of the gangs members would tease you to hell and back if you suddenly acted all girly, even Bucciarati would probably throw a joke. Having Trish on the team helped, but it also wasn't all that easy for the prideful you to ask help from a younger girl, and after trying to take tutoring lessons from Fugo with Narancia, it was safe to say you were plenty traumatized. So you observed trish silently instead. Hoping Trish didn't notice (she definitely did.) And with time, as you got closer. Trish opened up more and naturally helped you, sometimes buying extra products for you to use and teaching you a thing or two causally without making you feel dumb like a certain fellow gang member (Fugo) did.

Knocking on the car window snapped you out of your thoughts, and you looked to see Mistas stand, sex pistols. The teary eyed Number 5, to be specific. You smiled at the little thing and rolled the window down. "Hey Number 5."

"(Name)!" He sniffed, going to land in your palm. You frown, patting his head. "What's wrong little guy?"

"Number 6 hit me again!" You sighed, before you could go on to lecture number 5 for not hitting back. He interrupted you, as if sensing you were going to lecture him. "But that's not important! Mista is asking if you're done." You nod and open the car. Seeing Mista leaning against a tree. His back to you, he fed the Sex pistols from his sandwich and simultaneously talked on the walkie talkie he had.

"Yeah yeah yeah I got it already Giorno, let (name) do her magic and when she gets him to admit everything, I let Sex pistols do the rest. I understand, what I don't understand is why the hell are we giving this job to (name) of all people. Pretty sure even Abbacchio could do better." What's with everyone and bringing poor Abbacchio into this? And why wouldn't you do a good job?! You almost let out an offended scoff but you stop yourself at the last second, wanting to hear what else he had to say so you could kick his ass. "She can't even sit like a lady! She's totally gonna blow our cover!" Before Giorno could reply, you channel all of the fabulousness in you and squared your shoulders. Walking to Mista with a sway in your hips, the smokey look giving your eyes a sexy look, hiding the fury underneath.

The sound of your heels tapping against the floor pulled Mistas attention to you. As soon as his eyes landed on your figure. They widened.

You pluck the walkie talkie out of his hand, "Mista will be back in a sec, Gio." You turn your eyes slowly to Mista. Who was still running his eyes up your body. Strangely enough, you didn't hate it. If anything, it gave you an ego boost. And making use of that, you continue.

You ran your hand up Mistas muscular arms. Fingers barely grazing the fabric of his sweater until they ran over his neck — for a second, you felt his pulse, heart beating so hard it was a tad worrying — finally you reach under his hat and grab the tufts of hair. Tugging his head back. In his entranced state, his head easily tilted back. You lift your right leg, locking around his hip. You let out a sigh, "Mista." You whined in the sexiest, softest voice you could manage and you feel Mista melt underneath you.

"Y-yeah?"

You play with his short hair. Watching his black eyes darting around your face. Cheeks flushed all the way to his ears. So cute! Your red lips turned into a pout, "you're so mean. How could you say I'd be bad at this? Even though I'm trying my best.."

"I don't-i mean, i didn't mean it that way i-" Mista stuttered, brain probably turning to mush from the way you brought your lips close to his jaw. Warm breath fanning over his skin as you slowly inched closer and closer to his lips.

"So you don't think I'd be bad at this?" You stop just as your lips were a small distance away from his. His eyes, although lidded. Looked so eager. He nearly let out a groan as you pull back when he attempted to lean forward and steal a peck. "Well? Mista?"

"No, no no i think you'd be great at this. I think you'd be wonderful, you'll do amazing I'm sure. I don't know what i was saying just now i was being stupid." He rattled off whatever came onto his mind. With every word, he came closer to you. Hoping anything he had said right now would be enough to please you so that he can feel your soft looking lips on his.

To his frustration, you pull back. Absolutely beaming and Mista couldn't help but watch in confusion. Wondering what you were so happy about. Well, until you brought the walkie talkie up to your mouth, eyes not tearing away from his face. "Heard that Gio?" Mista felt the blood rush to his face and drain at the same time.

"You-you!" You tricked me! He tried to say, but he couldn't really say he hated it.

"Loud and clear, (name)." Giorno tired, yet slightly bemused voice came through the small device and at that, you peel yourself entirely off Mista and adjust you dress. "Good! Let's get on with this then!" You throw your hair back and sashay your way to the casino. Leaving Mista there, a puddle of embarrassment and horniness. He couldn't believe how easily you played him.

However, what Mista didn't see as he looked at your back, was the bright red flush extending all the way down to your ears and neck. "Oh my god! I can't believe i did that!" You whisper yell to yourself as you open the door to the loud casino. If it was anyone else, you would have laughed boisterously and forgot everything the next second, but when the other person was Mista of all people, it was a bit hard to do that. Trying to dismiss the flush and act normal even if you knew deep down had you not have had this important mission to do...

Well, you would've definitely kissed Mista.

[zeeroweenies]

can we get some tutor eren and bimbo reader for the culture please 😩✊🏾

yk i can’t deny my people 😩✊🏾

cw: 2K words, blowjob, promiscuity, flustered nerdy eren

“I’m never gonna pass!” You whine exasperatingly, banging your pencil on the table of the computer lab with your pretty plump lips poked out.

“You’re gonna pass, okay? It’s really easy I promise.” Eren assures you, picking up your pencil to resume the lesson at hand, drawing foreign symbols and numbers that made your brain all scrambled.

You never were the sharpest tool in the shed, school and studies were just something you had never been good at— especially trigonometry. It was just so confusing! There was no need to focus on something so pointless when there were much greater things on your mind like tiny tube tops, short skirts, and boys.

That’s why you enlisted the help of Eren Jaeger, one of the smartest people on campus and a major math wizard. If anyone could help you pass trig, Eren was your guy. You really lucked up scoring him as a tutor.

He’s been helping you study for a few weeks, though he can’t really say his work has paid off as a tutor. You’re a cute girl for sure, but you’re about as dumb as a box of rocks and Eren’s not sure if even he can help you get a good grade. But still, whenever you come around he gets the most intense hard ons he’s ever had. You’re really fucking stupid, but you’re also really fucking hot.

“I’ll go slow.” He starts. “If sine of sixty equals x over thirteen, what operation should you use to solve?”

Going over it for a second, your eyes flicker over the paper a few times before you sigh in defeat. Nothing.

“I dunno, it’s so hard” you whine, lips pouty.

Oh, it was hard alright. Eren was harder than a rock in his pants feeling you shift around on top of him. He swore he could feel the print of your pussy right above his cock, fitting so snugly that he could even feel the heat radiating from it.

He’s already having a hard time even focusing in the first place since you insisted on sitting on his lap instead of an actual chair because it helps you ‘focus better,’ and it really doesn’t help his case that every time he peeks over your shoulder to take a look at your work he catches a glimpse of your tits in that low cut top that hugs your frame in all the right places.

You smell sweet, like a flower. And it’s intoxicating that when each time your head tips back in frustration he can catch a whiff of your shampoo. And those lips, god. They’re plump and look softer than a fucking pillow all coated in that shiny lip gloss you always wear.

He wonders what it tastes like; Was it cherry? Grape? Watermelon? Or maybe it’s one of those combined flavors like strawberry-banana. He can’t count on his hands the amount of times he’s jerked off to the thought of those pretty lips wrapped around his co—

“I hate math so much!” you slam your pencil on the desk once more, snapping Eren from his perverse thoughts as you shift around in his lap so your front is facing him, tits pushing against his chest while your arms snake around his neck.

The feeling of your soft tits brushing up against him had him hardening against you in an instant, breath catching in his throat as you sit flush with his body.

“I’m uh, I’m gonna explain it again... pay attention.” he stutters, fumbling the pencil in his hand when you pull back to stare at his face. “You’re supposed to pay attention to the notebook, not me.”

He sounds so intelligent explaining the entire process to you, his words going through one ear and out the other as you take in his pretty features. Hair pulled back in a low bun with wispy strands framing his shapely face along with his jade colored eyes that were greener than emeralds themselves, thick framed glasses placed right above his nose.

You swear he was like a teenage heartthrob straight out of one of those Hollywood films you spent hours watching, you could stare at him forever.

“You’re so smart, ‘Ren” your doe eyes marvel at him before your fingers shift to remove the thick frames from his face, slowly inching closer towards his lips.

Eren’s eyes become lidded from the sudden hindrance of his vision, heartbeat ticking from the proximity of your face to his. “Thanks, but... I can’t really see without my glass—”

He’s taken aback the instant you press your lips against his, fingers scratching his scalp as you card them through his messily tied hair. Your lips feel so soft on his, breath minty from the gum you were chewing as your tongues collide with one another, Eren’s head reeling from the kiss.

His heart is pounding in his chest and his face is hot as your clothed cunt grinds down on his bulge, breaking the kiss when his hands accidentally palm your tits from getting a bit too excited.

“Shit— I’m sorry,” he apologizes while moving his hands away, heart filled with worry that he made you uncomfortable. But you’re not uncomfortable at all, assuring him that his actions are fine,

“‘S okay!” you reassure him, face flushed and lips kiss swollen. “You can touch me,” your hands fall to his to move them back to your breasts, Eren letting out a little groan when you squeeze the soft flesh over them.

He relishes in the little mewls coming from your mouth whenever your pussy slides against his clothed front, dick twitching at the way your eyes stare back at him with need.

There’s not even any time for him to think as you quickly drop to your knees, hands scrambling to unbuckle his pesky belt. His hands fly to yours to stop you, remembering that you’re in the computer lab and someone could walk in at any given moment.

“Wait— someone’s gonna come in”

Your eyes plead up at his, best pouty face on display with a whine slipping past your lips. “Ren, let me make you feel good. Nobody’s coming, I promise!”

You were always used to getting what you wanted, the word no was foreign to your vocabulary. So it comes as a surprise when Eren says it to you, his words making you shrink inside.

“You don’t think I’m pretty?” your brows draw together in discontent.

Fuck, I never said that, he thinks. “I-I do, it’s just we’re in public and—”

“Please let me do this for you, Ren.” you beg. “Wanna know what you taste like,” he groans when your fingers ghost over his hardened cock, your bottom lip prettily tucked between your teeth.

He couldn’t resist the charm of you, and there was no way he could stand to see a sad look on such a pretty face. He ends up giving in, a fervent nod of his head granting you permission.

“Fuck, o-okay— yeah,” his response earns a pleased whine from you, hands greedily moving to pull his cock from his boxers. It slaps against his shirt hard, standing at attention as your mouth waters at the sight.

He’s so fucking big that it makes your hand look tiny, you wouldn’t have thought someone like Eren was hiding something like this in his pants if you hadn’t seen it for yourself. And it’s pretty, the prettiest cock you’ve ever seen, straight and flushed red at the tip.

“So big,” you whisper more to yourself than Eren but he catches it, your words going straight to his dick as your freshly manicured hand pumps him in short strokes, tucking your gum in a space in your mouth so it doesn’t get lost.

An audible moan falls from his mouth when you take him in, soft lips wrapping around his length as your head bobs up and down his thick cock. Your pussy grows wet at the little sounds he lets out, telling you how good of a job you’re doing when your tongue licks the base of his dick.

Eren wasn’t like other guys around campus. He was quiet and stayed to himself most of the time but he’s so nice when he gives you lessons, especially when he tells you good job when you actually manage to get a question right. He’s so kind to you, it’s only right that you return the favor.

He looks so pretty above you right now, hips bucking into your mouth with your lip gloss smearing everywhere as he stares down at you with those sea green eyes, mouth slacked open and head thrown back when you swirl your wet tongue around his flushed tip.

Eren feels luckier than a coin in a wishing well, watching you look up at him with those pretty eyes while you plant sweet little kisses to the head of his cock. If your mouth felt this good, he could only dream of what your pussy felt like. Your hand wandering past your skirt to toy with your throbbing clit, only feeding more into the perverted thoughts he has about you.

“Take it deeper, shit” he groans, hand involuntarily pushing your head down to the base, bucking his hips up into your tight throat forcing a gag from you. You moan around him, your own hips moving against your hand as your panties drench your fingers.

“Fuck— you’re so good,” Eren’s hand comes to caress the side of your face tenderly, thumb stroking at your flushed cheek.

“You think I’m good?” your eyes widen up at him as his cock pops heavily from your mouth, glazed over with lust and still pumping him lazily in your fist, his praise making you whine. No guy had ever told you how good you were sucking their cock, they’d often just use you as a cocksleeve to dump their cum in.

Eren nods, release close as he forces your head back down onto him. “Yeah, you’re such a good girl, fuck”

His hands take hold on both sides of your head, roughly forcing you up and down on his cock as guttural groans and curses fly from his mouth, tip bruising the back of your throat and you can feel his cum shoot in your mouth.

“Take it, take it, take it—” he repeats over and over, drool and cum that you couldn’t keep in your mouth drizzling past your lips and down his balls.

Eren gives you one last thrust before he pulls you off of him, breathing haggard as he comes down from his high. His gaze falls to his cock, dirtied with cum and spit as it drips off his balls. It's sticky on your tongue but you swallow it all, greedily drinking down his cum as it travels down your throat and into your tummy.

“I’ll clean it!” you eagerly offer, lapping up the excess with your tongue before letting his cock go with a loud popping sound. “Thanks...” Eren mutters.

Your knees are sore when you stand up again, heart dropping when your phone reads the time as 8 PM. You were gonna be in big trouble if you didn’t get back to the dorms now. “Oh no, it’s almost past curfew,” you whine, gathering your bag along with your other belongings. You can’t believe you allowed yourself to lose track of time like this.

“It’s fine, I’ll finish it for you.” Eren’s head gestures to the door insinuating that it’s okay for leave, stuffing his dick back into his pants and retrieving his glasses from the floor.

“Really?” you ask in disbelief. “Okay!” you rush out the door of the computer lab, mouth dropping in an inaudible oh as you spin on your feet. Taking Eren’s face in your hands, you lean in to connect your lips one last time, mouths moving together in sync before breaking the kiss with a smile.

“Thanks, cutie.” you beam before turning around, frame moving further away as you disappear from the empty room.

It isn’t until you’re long gone that he realizes that your gum is in his mouth, you must’ve transferred it when you kissed him. Eren scoffs to himself silently before rolling the large chair back to the desk to continue finishing your homework, brain still not processing what just happened.

The gum is still fresh surprisingly, minty as he chews it when he licks his lips one last time, the residue of your sticky lip gloss familiar on his tongue. Ha, it really was strawberry. Lucky guess.

🏷 @sunas-cumdump @icyoni @katsukiscow @naoyailoveu @uwu-bby1 @attjmk <3

[mercy-burning]

Affection

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Spencer and Y/N decidedly hate each other. But when a near-death experience puts one of them in a coma, their mutual hatred might have to take a backseat— Or will it? Category: Angst / Happy Ending! + Humor and a lil bit of Fluff Content: Strong language, Reader is in a coma, mentions of injury, kissing Word Count: 2.6k

MASTERLIST

NOTE: This one’s for Pom’s ( @imagining-in-the-margins ) September Writing Challenge, Enemies To Lovers! I have another one coming up as well, but this idea wouldn’t get out of my head ever since I watched The Abyss with my dad and I had to get it out 😅 I hope you like it!!

———

I swear to fucking God, if this motherfucker really thinks he—

That was the last thing Y/N thought before she was knocked out cold.

With her line of work, it was natural to assume that she was thinking about the unsub, but unfortunately the criminal she and her team were tracking down was the farthest thing on her mind. Spencer would have chastised her for it— letting something else cloud her thoughts while she was in a dark alley, alone, and with a serial killer on the loose.

"You should be smarter than that!" she could hear him say in that high pitch he always carried when he was upset— especially with her. "If you don't get yourself killed one of these days, then it'll be the rest of us!"

Thinking about it made her blood boil.

"It's your fault," she wanted to tell him. "I had to blow off some steam because you were pissing me off!"

The only thing was... She couldn't tell him.

Well... She could.

He just couldn't hear her, because no one could.

It was like some stupid, cliché movie, where you found yourself standing over your dying body and having to choose whether to live or not. It seemed like the obvious choice, to fucking live, but... Y/N found herself wandering around her hospital room, yelling into the void and attempting to jump back into her own body.

Nothing was working.

And when Spencer showed up, his face red and his hair and clothes all messed up, she wanted to scream at him.

"Hey!"

Nothing. He was practically lifeless as he drifted to the chair next to her bed and sat down. It was nearly impossible to read from his expression and body language how he was feeling, and that alone was enough to make her angry again. (Not that the anger had really gone away since waking up next to her comatose body, of course.)

"Hey! Dumbass!"

Still nothing.

As Spencer just blankly stared down at Y/N's bed, she decided she'd had enough.

"SPENCER FUCKING REID, IF YOU DON'T HELP ME RIGHT NOW I SWEAR TO GOD I'LL HAUNT YOUR ASS UNTIL THE END OF ETERNITY, AND I'M GONNA LAY FAT, STINKIN' GHOST SHITS IN YOUR SHOES, DO YOU HEAR ME? AND—"

"I hate you."

It was a bold enough statement to stop Y/N in her tracks, no matter how quietly he'd mumbled it. She knew for sure that he didn't like her, after years of constant bickering and dirty glares and whatever else, but... The word 'hate' was like a knife that sliced through her joking rage and stopped the whole world around her.

If she wasn't already out of her own body, she just knew she would have felt her soul leave.

Spencer didn't hate anyone. Not that she was aware of, anyway. He found nearly everyone delightful, and vice versa... But for some reason, he hated Y/N.

She scoffed, crossing her arms. "Yeah, well... Feeling's mutual, I guess..."

"You're stupid, and reckless, and you don't think. And you're a goddamn nightmare to work with... You know what— You're a stone-cold bitch."

His words made her physically step backwards, and it felt like if she were a cartoon, there might have been steam coming out of her ears.

"Yeah, well jokes on you, you make it easy," she seethed. "Fuck you!"

"How... How dare you..." he continued, anger reddening his face.

Y/N watched as he balled his fists and leaned in a little closer to her body, his voice tight and strained. "How dare you walk into my life and boss me around and make it impossible to breathe... From the moment I met you, you've brought out this... this fire in me that I can't put out no matter how hard I try, and it's insufferable—You're insufferable, and I hate you, how dare—"

Whatever he was going to say next was cut off by a shortness of breath. Spencer breathed in, loud and choked, and the next breath he let out was nothing short of a sob. His eyes squeezed shut, tears rolling down them and his hands clutched the bedsheets with a vigor and rage that Y/N had never seen from him, even in all the years she'd spent visibly getting on his last nerves.

"N—No," she choked out, feeling her throat tighten. "Don't... Don't turn into a sappy mess on me now, do you hear me, Reid? You hate me, don't... Don't..."

"I don't hate you," he whispered, wiping his eyes and reaching out to grab her lifeless hand. "I hate that you make me feel this way, but... I could never hate you..."

She wanted nothing more than to be able to squeeze his hand back, to tell him, not even necessarily with words but with a simple gesture, that she was right there and wasn't going to go anywhere.

She just... had to figure out how to make that true.

Still, Spencer kept going, a small laugh bubbling up through tears and phlegm. "But I will hate you if you die, because I just know you're gonna come back and haunt me for eternity... Probably... shit in my shoes or something."

Y/N barked a laugh that was true and pure... Happy, even.

The genius may have acted like he hated her, but it turns out he knew her pretty well, perhaps even fondly in one way or another.

To think— All those years she spent seeing him sneer at her, feeling his glare burn into her soul, the amount of times she caught him making faces or inappropriate gestures behind her back, all of it... And the whole time, he was probably doing it with a little flicker of fondness deep within the confines of his heart, which he swore to fill with nothing but hatred for her.

The thought made the little flicker in her own heart burn brighter.

As she wandered closer to her bed, beside Spencer and in front of her own body, she reached her hand out to see if she could touch his face, to give him something...

Even though she had no luck, something shifted when he spoke.

"Just... Come back to me, please? I know I'm not good at apologizing, but if it means I get you back... I swear that I will make up every horrible thing I've ever done or said to you. Just... Please don't leave me."

He laid his head down in his hands and tried not to cry again, every said horrible thing replaying on a loop in his brain like some kind of taunt. He wished more than anything for a chance to make it up to Y/N, and now he might not ever be able to.

"You think I'd leave this mortal earth without getting the chance to kick your ass?"

Everything was so fuzzy and light and brimming with these high emotions that Y/N almost didn't realize she was saying these words and Spencer was hearing them. She almost didn't feel the warmth of her bloodstream beneath layers of skin, the beat of her heart slowly coming back to life at the sounds and smells of the hospital room.

She almost didn't realize that Spencer was grabbing her now, his warm hands covering her cold ones and bringing them back to life as well.

"Screw you," he breathed with absolutely no malice to be detected in his voice.

They shared a smile so bright, no one would have been able to guess that they never got along.

TWO WEEKS LATER

Not only was she stuck at home doing nothing while on suspension (Yes, it turns out that storming off into an alley and not paying attention while on the job, just because a co-worker pissed you off, can get you suspended by Chief Strauss), but Y/N was also being visited by a daily rotation of her co-workers and friends and family, and her house was nearly covered in flower bouquets and baked goods.

It was a nightmare.

The sentiment was nice, sure, but if she had to move one more vase, she was going to start throwing them.

God, maybe Spencer was right, I am a stone-cold bitch...

Thinking of him also put a little damper on her mood.

He hadn't been to visit her once... And she figured that after their nice little moment at the hospital, he'd at least stop by with flowers or an "I'm glad you're not dead!" call, but there was nothing on his end. Not even a text message or a letter.

But for all she knew, their small moment of kindness could have been a figment of her concussed imagination.

Please, she thought, if I brought it up to him he'd probably just laugh in my face.

Rather than a laugh, Y/N heard the bright sound of her doorbell, which normally would have meant a fun unexpected visit or a date she was getting ready for, but by now it only meant another vase of flowers or a pie from a neighbor she still didn't remember the last name to.

Either way, she answered the door with as polite a smile as she could muster, and instead of finding a vaguely familiar neighbor or acquaintance, she found Spencer.

Though, to be fair, he was holding a bouquet of flowers.

"Well, this is a surprise," Y/N drawled, crossing her arms. "I don't even think you've ever been to my house."

She was surprised to see him nervous around her, rather than irritated. And she would have found it endearing had they not been practically mortal enemies from the moment they met... She was suspicious.

"O—Oh, yeah... I know, I just thought... I wanted to come see how you were doing... These are for you."

He held out the flowers, which were truthfully the pretties set she'd received, and it irked her. Because of course he of all people would be the one to tell which kinds of flowers she'd prefer.

"Thanks," she said, taking them from him and allowing him the space to come inside. "Watch out, it's a maze in here..."

While she looked for somewhere to put the flowers on display, she could feel Spencer looking around her space, probably profiling what he could behind a sea of flowers.

"Hm."

Y/N sighed. "What?"

"Nothing. I'm just... I'm surprised this many people actually like you."

Despite the nature of his observation, she found it comforting. That level of playful contempt was what she was used to, and it brought a sparkle to her eye as she turned to face him. "Ha... I'm not a complete bitch, you know."

"Sure."

Between the growing grin on his face and the smirk forming on her own, Spencer and Y/N found themselves falling back into a familiar rhythm. And yet, something about it was still... different.

So much so that Y/N felt honest-to-God butterflies in her stomach when he approached, hands retreating from his pockets and head tilting off to the side. His expression held that look he got when he was trying to figure someone out, usually an unsub. She hated to admit it to herself, but a little part of her always found that side of him extremely attractive.

And now that it was right in front of her?

She didn't know what to make of it.

"What?" she snapped, looking for an excuse to hide any and all attraction she was feeling.

Spencer stepped back a little, breaking away from whatever trance he'd just been in. "God, why do you always have to do that?"

"Do what?"

"You push away every single show of affection! Any time I'm trying to be nice, you just act like it's some big inconvenience to you!"

Y/N laughed. "Ha! That's what that was? Just now? When you insulted me, and then started stalking towards me with that look you get when you're interrogating an unsub? That's what you call affection?"

"That's not... That's not what that was!"

"Oh really? Then what was it?"

"It was part of the routine! Banter! Y—You know, that's our thing! We insult each other, and we act like we hate each other but we... We don't, really..."

The longer he went on, the faster her heart raced. This was the moment in the movie where he inevitably blurted out that he loved her, and in turn she would either kiss him or slap him, or slap him and then kiss him...

But Y/N was still feeling rather playful despite the swarm of butterflies in her stomach begging for some relief.

"Oh?" she prompted, taking a slow step closer to him. "We don't?"

Spencer seemed to get red immediately, and he avoided her eyes. "U—Uh... Well I... I thought... Maybe I read it all wrong, a—and I'm sorry if I did..."

She'd been getting closer meanwhile, and now they were practically toe-to-toe. He did his best to ignore her, taking a few steps back until she cornered him against the front door. And with the way he wasn't doing anything to get out of his predicament, she took that as his acceptance and took another leap.

"What..." she cooed, crawling her fingers up the front of his chest like a spider. "You like me? Hmm?"

When he finally looked down at her, she allowed herself to smile, albeit slowly and with calculation.

In a flash Spencer went from nervous to fed-up, weight seeming to visibly lift from his chest as he sank against the door. "You're messing with me..."

"It's so fun."

"You know what, screw you."

"Is that a promise?"

"Maybe it is. What are you gonna do ab—"

She didn't let him finish.

In an instant, Y/N lunged forward and pulled him down for a kiss.

Even though she thought he might have tried to take control of the situation, he ended up surprising her with a wanton moan as his hands clutched at her sides, holding on for dear life. Their bodies and tongues collided in a mess of years worth of pent-up tension, chaotic and wild and fiercely beautiful in a way that put even the greatest first kisses to shame.

And of course, Spencer had to go and ruin it.

He pushed her away and looked almost panicked. "W—Wait, are you even cleared to do this?"

Y/N rolled her eyes, reaching out for him again. "I'm fine."

"Y/N, you were in the hospital! I thought... I thought you were..."

She appreciated the sentiment, but with her entire body on fire from his touch, she decided she needed more of it. "Yeah, but I'm not... I'm very much alive, and you know what?"

He blinked back at her, watching carefully as she leaned in close to him and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"It's because of you. You make me feel... more alive than I've ever been."

"And... You're not messing with me this time?"

With a laugh,  Y/N shook her head and leaned up to brush her nose with his. "Nuh-uh... But if you'd like to, I'd love to mess with you in a more fun way. And maybe I'll even let you do it back..."

Spencer hummed, feeling himself gravitate towards her more with every passing second. "Deal."

He barely got the word out all the way before she was dragging him through the maze of flora and contained food and into her bedroom, where piece by piece, their hatred and fondness for one another combined to create the most exquisite of nights.

———

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[spencersawkward]

omg I’m so excited you’re on here and taking requests!! do you think you could do something like baby Spence losing his virginity to a close friend & it’s like adorable, goofy, fluffy smut bc he cannot get over the fact that he’s actually having sex with someone

I’VE BEEN WAITIN FOR THIS ONE-- TURN IT UP!!!

on a serious note, i'm so glad you asked for this one bc i really wanna add a scene like this in the fic i'm working on rn. i'm v excited.

summary: when the secret of Spencer's virginity gets accidentally spilled in front of the whole team, reader goes to check on him.

word count: 5.6k

relationship: Fem!Reader/Spencer Reid

content warnings: unprotected penetrative sex, creampie, fluff.

masterlist

hanging out with the team is easily the best part of the week. after spending days in Arizona with our focus entirely on the most recent case, my mind is practically ready to snap. I feel like I've been running on fumes, and when Penelope suggested we take the evening to hit our favorite bar, I was practically already out the door.

so now I'm sandwiched between JJ and Emily as we throw back our first shots of the night. my skin is already flushed with the elation of laughter, the pleasant thrum of conversation that surrounds us.

"that's bitter." JJ makes a face when she slams the empty glass on the table. I screw up my nose.

"why did we pick vodka?" I hate vodka.

"it gets the job done." Emily laughs. I shudder at the aftertaste that sits on my tongue.

Morgan wanders over, Pen on his arm while she totes a brightly colored pink alcohol. they're flirting as usual, but she pauses in her witticisms to grab my arm.

"we're playing truth or shot in that booth over there." she says to me, then gets the attention of the other two women. I let out a disbelieving laugh.

"truth or shot? like truth or dare but without the dare?"

"Reid, is that you?" Morgan says sarcastically. I slug him in the arm with a pout.

"be nice." but I'm giggling. he loops his arm through mine and we head back to the table, Penelope already starting a new conversation with JJ and Prentiss as they follow. Spencer is sitting in the booth with an Arnold Palmer, sipping from the straw like it's his job. I slide into the spot next to him.

"hi, you." I smile. "I haven't seen you at all tonight."

he holds up his glass. "I don't really drink."

"that's fine," I wave it off. "I just meant I wanted to hang out with you."

"oh." he smiles a little. "sorry."

"no big deal. you're here now." I shrug and turn to Pen as she calls my name.

"I'm gonna order a bottle. that okay?" she points to the bar with a mischievous smile. glancing once at Spencer and his slightly awkward position between Morgan and me, I make a snap decision.

"you know what? I think I'll just have a lemonade."

"you sure? Jayge said you spent the whole plane ride back talking about getting wasted--" Penelope's words cause a blush to spread over my face. I cut her off.

"I'm sure. thanks, Penny."

she nods. "of course, sweet cheeks."

I focus back on Reid, who is looking at me gratefully. he would never say it out loud, but I know he feels a little out-of-place sometimes. it's hard enough for him to come out with us to bars; the least I can do is be a sober friend. I open my mouth to start a conversation about an article I read the other day when Prentiss speaks.

"okay, so... who's ready?" her voice, always so certain, carries over the table. all of us make enthusiastic noises of assent, and she grins as Penelope returns with an armful of glasses. Derek gets up to grab the actual alcohol, and then when we're all settled in, the game begins.

"the rules are simple: you tell the truth, or you drink!" the tech analyst explains. the stakes for Spencer and me are lower, but that doesn't really matter. I'm excited to hear the team divulge their secrets.

"I'll start." Prentiss doesn't even hesitate before she looks at Morgan. "Derek, are you still sleeping with that one woman from sex crimes?"

Morgan raises his eyebrows at the question, irises flitting between Emily and the rim of his drink. there's a slight smirk on his face; he knows what a player he is and he's okay with flaunting it.

"Ally? no." he sighs. "things didn't end well between us."

"what? why?" I ask, eyes widening before I look around at everyone. "who is this woman?"

"cool your jets, sparky." Morgan teases me. "only one question per round."

"I'll tell you later." Prentiss raises her drink in my direction and winks.

"uh, no no." Morgan attempts to stop her, but JJ interrupts him.

"speaking of things not ending well," she says loudly. "Pen, why did you and Sam break up?"

"well," Penelope sticks her tongue between her teeth as she thinks it over with a devilish smile. her lips are a ruby red tonight, bright against her pale skin and big eyes. "to be completely honest, he just wasn't... doin' it for me. you know?"

"like--?" Emily glances down at her lap. Pen nods quickly and I snicker. JJ looks awestruck.

"I thought it was going so well."

"it was, but..." Penelope seems to genuinely think this over before she speaks. "if it's right, it just clicks. and it never clicked with Sam."

"profound." I compliment, high-fiving the high-energy blonde. we giggle before she turns to me with a glint in her eye.

"oh, do I have a plan for you," she smirks. "tell me, Y/N: if you had to sleep with one person on our team, who would it be?"

"women included?" I clarify, my cheeks suddenly on fire. how come everyone got easy questions except for me? I'm really just biding time.

"of course." she nudges my shoulder. I mull this over for a minute. I could say the truth, but I don't think that would be the right thing to do. however ironic that is. given the situation, I do something which I have never been good at and which I don't enjoy doing: I lie.

"although all of you are catches," I preface. "I think I would probably pick Emily."

Prentiss almost chokes on her own spit as her head snaps to see my face.

"me?" she asks.

"low-pressure fun." I shrug, the stress of the moment rolling off my shoulders with the ensuing laughter of my team members. Spencer takes a sip of his drink and peeks at me from his spot before I focus my attention to JJ.

we go on like this for a while, our original plan of "truth or drink" really just turning into a game of "truth and drink." as our laughter gets progressively louder, our questions and answers get progressively more provocative. we get into risky territory towards the fourth round, and I can practically feel Spencer's discomfort radiating off of him. thank god everyone has been taking it easier on him with their questions.

that is, until Morgan hits about five shots and decides to throw him to the wolves.

"so, Reid," he asks. there's no malice in his tone and I'm sure he's not meaning to embarrass the boy genius, but the question makes me wince anyways. "have we made any progress on the virginity front?"

it's like a fucking pall over the table. Reid goes rigid in his spot, and JJ's protective eyes dart between him and Morgan. Penelope's jaw drops.

"wait, Reid, you're a--?" her voice is tender, not judgmental, but Spencer's cheeks turn pink and he looks at Derek with a hurt expression.

"not cool." he says, body shifting in my direction. his eyes communicate everything; without a word, I know what he wants. I scoot out of the booth, letting him slip by me to walk outside.

truly, I'm speechless. we all stare at his lanky frame push through the door, but nobody talks until at least fifteen seconds pass.

"what the hell was that, Morgan?" JJ asks.

"I thought everyone knew--" he throws his hands up. "I swear I wouldn't have said anything if--"

"why would everyone know that?" I feel myself get angry for Spencer's sake. "that's an incredibly personal thing, especially to him."

"that wasn't you, my love." Penelope's voice is soft, sobered by the incident that just occurred. the playful air at the table is officially ruined, and we keep glancing at the doorway like Reid will come back in and everything will be fine. he doesn't.

"I'm gonna go apologize." Morgan starts to get up, seemingly beginning to realize the weight of his words. it's one thing to ask about Reid's sex life in general; it's another to point out specifically the entire absence of it. Spencer doesn't seem to be bothered by most things, but this is different. my heart hurts.

we watch Morgan go, the women all looking at each other with worried expressions.

"I feel bad." Penelope says.

"y'know, Spence never told me that." JJ observes.

"he really trusts Morgan." Prentiss says what we're all thinking. Morgan has always been like a big brother to him, and being embarrassed in front of your co-workers like that can't be a pleasant feeling.

we sit in a relative silence for about five minutes until Morgan walks back into the bar. he pulls out his wallet and pays for the drinks, then walks over to us.

"I'm gonna go for a walk. do you need me to call you all cabs?" he asks. those dramatic brows are drawn low over his face, emphasizing his regret. I look between my friends and clear my throat.

"it's okay. I only had one shot about an hour and a half ago. I can drive everyone home."

"okay," Morgan sighs, his head turning briefly to the door before focusing back on us. "drive safe, ladies."

and then he's gone.

"you guys ready?" I start to shrug my jacket on. they all nod and we get ready to go.

...

sitting in my apartment later that night, my head is swimming. even though it's none of my business what happens in Spencer's sex life, I wish I could tell him that it's okay. nobody cares at all if he's a virgin or not. but I know it's still embarrassing.

I hate that I lied earlier tonight, too. I wanted to say Spencer's name when they asked who I wanted, because I meant it. we're close, and I will always love him as a friend. but I've also always wanted more.

nobody, not even any of the other BAU women, know about my crush. I didn't want it to get in the way, or for it to come out and ruin my friendship with Reid. he doesn't like me like that, and that's fine, but what's not fine is not having him as my friend.

he was the first person I really connected with when I came here, and I feel a little protective over him, too.

once the clock hits eleven, I consider calling. he’s definitely not asleep yet. Spencer is a night owl. normally at this time he'd be curled up with a huge book, reading impossibly fast.

when he picks up on the third ring, the air leaves my lungs.

"Y/N?" he asks, more surprised than anything else.

"hey, Spence--" I hesitate, suddenly not sure what to say. sorry Morgan told everyone you're a fucking virgin? “do you wanna come over?"

maybe if I see him face-to-face, I'll be able to collect my thoughts better. the words hang in the air, festering over the line until I'm just about to take them back, before he replies.

"y-yeah. I'll be there in fifteen minutes."

my hands are shaking at my side when I open the door for the tall genius. he's still wearing his outfit from earlier, hair slicked back like normal. I've settled for my usual sweatpants and t-shirt winning combo. it's not like he cares.

"hey." I smile, trying to read his micro expressions. there are two possible outcomes here, knowing him: either he's going to be totally, completely over it, or he'll be able to write a War-and-Peace-length book on why he's upset.

"hi." he gives a wan smile and I let him into my apartment, closing the door behind him and gesturing to the couch.

"I missed this place." he says absently, looking around at the mess of decor and case files. I snort as I recall the last time he was here. he wanted to borrow a book that I had, and we ended up watching an entire docu-series about homing pigeons. it was surprisingly interesting; mostly because his commentary is both informative and funny.

"it missed you." I anthropomorphize my living space, but the phrase hangs heavy. I'm worried about him. I'm always worried about Spencer. he turns to look at me, opening his mouth to say something. I brush past him and walk into the kitchen. "coffee?"

"sure." he follows me like a lost puppy, leaning against the counter while I pull out two mugs and get to work.

"hey," I pause for a moment to look him in the eyes. "I just wanted to say that I'm sorry-- about what happened... tonight."

"oh, that?" he scoffs, waves it off unconvincingly. "it's fine."

I raise my brows the slightest bit, never breaking eye contact. he wouldn’t have come if he didn’t want to talk about it. he cracks easily.

"it's just embarrassing, you know?" he says, staring out my kitchen window to alleviate his own nerves. I gesture for him to follow me back into the living room and I sit down criss-cross applesauce on the couch. he mirrors me, kicking off those cute black Converse.

"I don't think the fact itself is embarrassing, but I totally get why it feels that way. he shouldn't have said anything." I nod.

"like, that's personal. a-and--" he hesitates a moment, gesticulating wildly now. "and it's not like he's got any right! at least I don't go around with so many girls that I forget their names."

the thought of Reid sleeping with that many women is a little bit funny, but it also makes my stomach twist with jealousy.

"did he apologize?"

"yeah, he did. and he was drunk, I know." he rolls his eyes. "I'm overreacting."

"no, really, you're not." without thinking, I scoot closer to him and place my hand over his, which is sitting on his knee. I remember that Spencer is usually pretty averse to touch, but when I move it back to my lap, he seems a little disappointed. I wonder if he gets lonely.

"is it weird?" the question sounds raw, like he's mustering a lot to hear my response. I shake my head immediately.

"well, for one, Spence, I would never judge anyone based on their sex life, period." I chuckle. "and two, no way! if you aren't into having sex at this point in your life-- or ever-- that's totally your choice and you're entitled to it."

his eyes meet mine, pools of honeyed hazel that swim with a slightly amber shade. his face is so pretty, it's sometimes unbelievable to me that he doesn't get more action. bone structure that would make a sculpture envious.

"that's the thing," he licks his lips nervously before averting his gaze again. "I am interested-- I just don't-- well, I don't--"

"don't have someone to do it with?" I suggest with a slight smile. he nods, then clarifies.

"girls don't really seem to be interested in me."

I let out a laugh, unable to contain myself. his head jerks up to frown in confusion. I’m quick to amend myself.

"Spence, that's not true at all. you're such a catch! you're sweet and funny and way smarter than anyone I know. not to mention that you're adorable." I compliment, letting some of the thoughts I've been keeping to myself bubble to the surface. "any girl would be beyond lucky to be with you, sexually or not." Spencer blushes at my words, but the squirming in his spot tells me that it makes him feel warm inside. he smiles a little.

"you think?" it's genuine. he appreciates being praised, and it makes my heart flutter when he gives me that expression like I've made his night.

"I know." more of what I want to say rolls around my mind, unsure of whether or not I should admit it. but I think that right now, it'll only serve to make him feel better. "actually, I should tell you something."

"what?" he's curious now.

"when we were at the bar and Penelope asked who I'd be with... on the team... I lied."

"okay." he nods, somehow not connecting the dots. I guess it doesn't matter if they've got enormous IQs; boys are still clueless.

"I was gonna say you." the truth presses from the inside out, lifting a weight off my chest now that it's out there. even if he doesn't return that feeling, I'm suddenly glad that I told him.

"me?" he gestures to his narrow chest. I nod.

"yeah. I didn't wanna make you uncomfortable or embarrass you in front of our friends." I explain. he breaks into a grin.

"thanks." like I've given him something. I feel myself smiling as well, and then we're just looking at each other. tension that neither of us is willing to break. as much as I'd like to take him right here right now, he hasn't said anything about actually having sex or even about being attracted to me. for all I know, he could be completely indifferent.

"listen, Spence--"

"would you be willing to--" we speak at the same time, both of us stopping and laughing awkwardly.

"sorry, you go first." I offer, and he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth.

"would you want to... um..." he scratches the back of his neck before his eyes meet mine. "try it?"

"sex?" I raise my eyebrows. he nods. I try to find the right response. that’s more assertive than I expected. my pulse is fast, daring me to tell the truth. "I mean-- yes, I would love to-- but are you sure you want it to be with me, Spence? what about a girl that you like?"

"you are a girl that I like." he says this like it's matter-of-fact, like it's obvious. my heart stops in my chest before it starts to hammer.

"really?" a smile makes its way onto my face.

"I thought you knew."

"no." I laugh. my chest is full of sunlight.

"well, you are."

there's a brief silence where I try to get myself back on track. he likes me, too.

"are you sure you want to do this?" I glance at the space between our bodies, which has grown steadily smaller over the course of our conversation. Spencer is watching my every move with an intensity that tells me he's nervous.

"yes." he's unwavering.

"okay, well, you've kissed girls, right?" I inch closer. he nods.

"one."

"oh, Spencer," I sigh contentedly. "I have so much to teach you."

right after I say this, Spencer shifts uncomfortably in his seat. it's only then that I notice his hand covering his lap, the erection that's forming beneath his pants. my eyes flick up to his hungrily.

"sorry." he apologizes.

"don't be." our faces are inches apart and he's practically holding his breath. "I'm gonna kiss you. is that okay?"

"yes." he replies immediately. I place my hands gently on the side of his face, admiring the softness and sharpness of his jaw when I pull him to me, kissing him with a suppressed desire. his mouth is soft against mine, a little anxious to move. after a moment, he starts to relax.

his lips part and I deepen our contact, tilting my head and keeping it mostly mild at first. I don't want to shove my tongue down his throat. our knees are touching and his hand hesitantly finds my waist, the other going to run through my hair. I sigh into him, his fingertips a new sensation that I adore.

Spencer begins to give in a bit more to himself, asserting himself in the kiss and slipping his tongue over my bottom lip. I almost laugh at how quickly he gets the hang of it. he reads my body language effortlessly, not even skipping a beat when I climb into his lap and lace my arms around his neck.

"is this okay?" I pull away momentarily. he nods.

"you're so pretty." an unrelated response, but appreciated nonetheless. I laugh and peck his nose.

"thanks." and then we're back to making out, his hands resting on the small of my back. it's nice. I could stay like this forever, just pressed against Spencer while my fingers thread through his soft hair. he's cautious with me, and it's innocent.

I can feel his boner, can feel from the eagerness of his kisses that he's trying not to bring up the fact that he's literally just throbbing in his pants right now. in order to give him a little of what he wants, I start to rock my hips against his.

Spencer whimpers into my mouth. I stop and look down at him.

"do you want me to stop?"

"no, god, no— never stop." he's mindless in his reply, already grabbing my hips greedily and trying to regain that friction. I shake my head with a chuckle, then resume my actions. he starts to rut up against me, groaning into our embrace while his hands get more adventurous.

I withdraw, breaking the kiss to straighten up. he doesn't stop the microscopic pushes of his hips. I bite back a smile, enjoying the friction, too.

"do you wanna take my clothes off, Spence?" I ask softly.

"y-yes." he replies, gingerly taking the hem of my top and beginning to lift it over my head. when he places it on the couch beside me, his eyes immediately fall to my bra. slender fingers run up my bare waist, his watch glinting in the candlelight. when he doesn't immediately reach to unclasp my bra, I grab his wrist and guide it to the clasps myself. he moves with a surprising ease, unsnapping the thing and grazing over my skin as he slides the straps down my shoulders. I can tell that he’s shaking a tad, but it doesn’t hinder him.

the second that he's discarded the lingerie, he looks up at me with moony eyes.

"can I... kiss you?" he looks at my bare chest. "here?"

"of course, Spence." I nod. he presses his lips to the space between my ribs, drags them up to the valley between my breasts. lingers, then attaches himself to one of my nipples. I sigh, throwing my head back at the way he moves intuitively, sucking and running his tongue over the peak. he squeezes the other breast, plays with the nipple and starts to acquaint himself with the curves of my body.

the whole time, he's straining against my core, rutting helplessly in pleasure. it feels heavenly, with that sweet face of his so devoted to making me feel good, that I nearly stray from the purpose of the experience.

"Spencer..." I breathe. he moans at the sound of his name, then looks up at me from his place sucking on my tits. his teeth graze of my skin and I buck into his lap, causing him to groan appreciatively. my fingers tangle in his soft hair.

"Y/N," he pulls away from my chest, his lips making a soft popping sound. I gaze down at him, a bit lost in the fantasies running through my head. he's a natural. "can we, um-- like, expedite this process a little?"

"expedite the process?” I repeat back to him, giggling at his formality.

"what?" his voice goes up an octave, but he's smiling. "you know what I mean."

"I really do." I lean down, pressing my thumb into his jaw and angling his face up to mine to kiss. while his hands curiously move over my body, I start to push down the waistband of my sweatpants. I break contact just for a moment to peel them off, and he releases a quiet whine. it's cute.

"come back." he says softly, watching as I slide the bottoms down my legs, leaving me in my panties.

"I'm back." I peck his cheek, climb into his lap again. "can we take off your clothes, too?"

"mhmm." he nods. his lips part when my fingers work at the buttons of his shirt, undoing them with a torturous slowness. I can feel his eyes on my face the whole time.

"what?" I chuckle, peeking up at him for a moment before I pull his shirt open and run my palms up his chest, over his shoulders. he nearly shudders at the sheer touch.

"I just can't believe this is actually happening." he smiles in that way of his, like he's suppressing the depth of his emotions, with his brows slightly raised. I take the opportunity to enjoy the sight of him before me, his rapidly rising and falling chest, the smoothness of his skin.

"honestly?" I start to unbutton his pants, and he jerks up into my hand, blushing once he realizes the earnestness of his actions. I smirk encouragingly. "me, neither."

before I pull down his boxers, my eyes flick to his. "is this still okay?"

"Y/N," he groans. "if you don't do something, I'm gonna cum too early." he squeezes his eyes shut for a moment when my hand moves over his clothed erection, like he's holding on. "please."

"sorry." I release him from the confines. it hits his stomach and he waits for my reaction, as if he's afraid that I'll change my mind right now. but I'm definitely not going to. "holy fuck, Spencer."

"what?" he panics slightly, sitting up more. "is it not enough?"

"not enou--" I stutter, almost laugh. "no, it's plenty. I had no idea..."

"oh." he hides the pleased smile on his face, blush spreading over his pretty throat. in the interest of "expediting the process," I wrap my hand around the base of his cock and gently pump him.

Spencer's stomach tenses and he grabs onto the cushion of the couch with a tight fist, sighing.

"mmm..." he doesn't try to word his emotions, but I know. and I like that I'm making him feel this way, sharing this experience. Spencer and I are such close friends, I never thought we'd actually have sex. my assumption was that I'd watch him grow into himself, find a nice girl and treat her like a queen.

but here I am, spitting into my hand before jerking him off to prepare for what’s next. he’s throbbing, sounds coming from his throat.

"I'm gonna sit on it, okay?" I lean down to whisper in his ear. he touches my waist, my neck, kisses a random spot on my chest in the waves of pleasure that I'm giving him.

"o-okay." he mumbles, waiting for me to actually do it. and there's a moment of tense anticipation between both of us, when I sit up and pull my panties to the side. Spencer watches like I'm the only thing in the world, saving the memory of my body on top of his for later.

I run the head of his cock along my entrance, soaking him in the wetness between my thighs. I didn't realize how turned on I'd already gotten, and he lets out a quiet whine when he feels the evidence of how much I want him.

our eyes lock when I sink down. it's a new feeling for him, and the shape of his member as it stretches my walls causes me to bite my lip to withhold moaning too loudly. he whimpers, neck tensing and fingertips digging into my hips.

"o-oh." he sucks in a breath as I reach the halfway point. he's so big, I have to go slow in order not to overwhelm myself. but it feels good, too. like... unbelievably good. I grip onto his shoulders and my head falls forward into his shoulder.

"Spencer, holy shit." I moan.

"does it feel nice?" he asks, concerned for my own pleasure. I feel my chest flutter at the thoughtfulness of the boy wonder even when he's in the midst of losing his virginity, and I lower myself onto the rest of him.

"mhmm," I rest for a moment. "how do you feel?"

"like--" his breath hitches when I begin to rock back and forth on him. "like I've been missing out."

I can't help the giggle that slips past my lips, but then it quickly turns into a longing moan when he starts to thrust up into me like a helpless thing. Spencer is brilliant, but his brain cells go out the window when he throws his head back and begs me to move more.

I nod, raising and lowering myself until we reach a special pace. it's not fast or slow, just the two of us trying to stay in the moment while we hold on tightly to each other. I can feel the cool metal of his watch when he splays his hand out over my spine, the warmth of his breath while he pants against my shoulder.

he hits my g-spot over and over. my moans are torn from my throat by the burning of my lungs. it's like I can't breathe because I'm so focused on chasing the orgasm building in my stomach. and Spencer... I can tell he's almost finished.

the erratic nature of his jerking body tells me.

"I'm gonna cum..." he moans into my neck. "do- do you want me to pull out?"

"no." I arch my back and throw myself into the friction of our bodies. he stares up at me while I ride him, the merciless grinding of my hips because I just can't help myself. "oh my god, Spencer."

he notices how close I am and, in a surprisingly deft move, slides two fingers over my pussy to find my clit. the ensuing noise from me tells him that he's found it, and he begins to rub in quick circles. it's rough and hard, but that's exactly what I need right now.

"cum for me, Spence." I breathe. his free hand grips onto my thigh and pulls me over him, his own words unintelligible within the sounds of absolute pleasure.

"please." he begs for something I don't know, spills his seed inside of my pussy and holds onto me like I'm an anchor to this world while he peers into the next. the feeling of him spreading through my stomach, along with the reckless movements of his limbs and the way he looks at me while he rides out his orgasm, sends me over the edge.

"oh my fuck!" I collapse, grabbing his shoulders tightly and rolling myself down while he removes his fingers from my body. it's jarring, the intensity, like my normal functions can't respond correctly. all I can process is the tightening of my stomach, the pleasure between my legs, vision going slightly fuzzy at the edges. he moans when my cunt flutters around him, the muscles trying desperately to hold him here with me forever. I take deep breaths and slow down, my forehead dropping again while I start to remember my own name.

neither of us speaks. I think I'm still too in shock about what just happened, but in the best way. he keeps running his hands over my skin, then wraps his arms around my torso so that I'm pulled against his chest. I smile, kissing his ear before I finally break the silence.

"hi."

"hi." he's got a satisfied tone.

"do you need anything? water?" I ask, exhausted but realizing that this is still new for Spencer and it's my job to make sure he's as comfortable as possible. he nuzzles his nose into my clavicle and squeezes me tighter.

"stay here with me." there's a slight edge to his words. he's afraid of me leaving. I snuggle down, perfectly happy to remain. heat radiates from his skin, and I like the way it feels.

"of course."

we linger in each other’s arms, both of us coming back into the real world and holding on in an attempt to soften the blow. I just had sex with Spencer.

"thank you." he whispers into my hair.

"for what?" the smile on my face is lazy.

"for doing this."

"well, I really wanted to." I laugh. "so, I guess, thank you, too."

"you're quite welcome." his response is cheerful and then we're both laughing, the sound rumbling from his chest. "can we do it again at some point?"

"I would be happy to." I beam. the contented sigh that leaves his lips, followed by a slight sinking of our bodies down the couch in collective exhaustion, fills me with a joy that's quiet but obvious.

“I’ll last longer next time, I promise.” he says. I can practically hear the blush in his cheeks.

“you did amazing, Spence. don’t worry about it.” I press a few stray kisses to him.

I'll need to go clean up, soon, but it can wait a few more minutes. this is my favorite place on earth.

[iguessweallcrazyithinktho]

𝑲𝒊𝒔𝒔 𝒎𝒆 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆

I want to hold your hand while sitting by the river on a bench at night, looking at the city lights reflect in the water and admiring how lovely you look. I want to kiss you while I sit on my hands so you don't notice how much they're shaking.

𝑮𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: 𝒇𝒍𝒖𝒇𝒇𝒚

𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈: 𝒏𝒆𝒓𝒗𝒐𝒖𝒔 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓, 𝒄𝒐 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒔

𝑷𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: 𝒄𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔 𝒆𝒗𝒂𝒏𝒔 𝒙 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

𝑨𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆: 𝒏𝒐 𝒊 𝒅𝒊𝒅𝒏𝒕 𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒆 𝒊𝒕 𝒂𝒇𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒈😶

𝑾𝑨𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮: 𝒅𝒐𝒏𝒕 𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒚 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒚𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒎𝒚 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒕.

𝑪𝑶𝑴𝑴𝑬𝑵𝑻𝑺 𝑨𝑵𝑫 𝑹𝑬𝑩𝑳𝑶𝑮𝑺 𝑾𝑬𝑳𝑪𝑶𝑴𝑬

Chris didn't expect this outcome when he chose the movie he was currently playing in the you. He didn't expect to fall in love with you but he did. At first it was scary, but as he spent days with you he knew it was nothing to be scared about. You were delightful, beautiful, smart; everything that Chris wanted. And he was happy you both found each other.

First day on set

The place was crowded with people talking and fixing things up for scenes. You made your way over to the director which you've met a few weeks before.

"hi." You smiled not paying attention to the other person beside her. "Hi, y/n. Welcome to set."

You chuckled, "thanks, thanks." You turned to the guy beside her. Your breath hitched in your throat as you saw who it was. Chris Fucking Evans.

You keep it together despite being next to the very popular bachelor. "Y/n this is Chris. Chris this is y/n."

The director introduced you both. Chris smiled and stuck his hand out. God his smile gave you butterflies.

"hi y/n, nice to meet you." You chuckled softly, shaking his his. Your chuckle it came out more nervously then you intended it to. "Hi, nice to meet you too."

Chris looked at you. There was no denying you were a beautiful woman, and your cute smile was the cherry on top for him. He could tell you were nervous but he didn't make it obvious to you; he was nervous himself to be honest.

You started to notice you were shaking Chris hand for a while now. You cleared your throat and pulled your hand from his soft hand.

"so as you know, you two are playing love interest in the movie. It's a romantic movie and there's lots of kisses and intense scene. I hope you two are ready for this." The director widened her eyes at you both. You nodded your head peering over at Chris who was also nodding.

"well I got your scripts in your trailer for you both. Have fun you two." She walked away leaving you and Chris standing together. You hesitantly turned to Chris. "Well... Uh, I'll see you later then." You laughed turning around.

"yeah, I will too."

Chris watched as you Walked away to your trailer. It's something about you that made him feel flustered, something that made him nervous and shy. He wasn't sure what it was he was feeling but it was a feeling he didn't want to let go of.

End of that week

After many hours and scene the end of the week rolled through. It was nice Because you only had to do a couple of more scenes before you got the weekend off. Even though that was exciting, the last scene you were doing that week was a scene of you kissing Chris for the first time.

It made you fucking nervous. What if you messed the kiss up? What if you get so nervous you throw up? What if Chris hated it? So many things ran through your mind as you sat aside on the set.

Chris walked on to set a few minutes later parking himself right beside you. "Hi." He mumbled bumping your shoulder. You looked over at him, trying not to smile so hard, "hi."

"you ready for this scene?" Chris asked, looking at you. You sighed, "um I guess so." You placed your hand under your legs that were starting to bounce.

Chris noticed, "hey, don't be nervous." You looked up at him, "I'm fine just never kissed Anyone on screen before."

Chris sighed, "it was a little awkward for my first kissed on screen but once you do it y'all be fine."

The co-director came up to you both saying it was time to film. "Come on, let's get it over with." Chris voice was soft as you both got up. It relaxed you a lot.

You walked over to the set, standing in front of Chris. He took your hand as told and looked into your eyes. The director yelled action and you began your acting.

Chris leaned in settling his lips on yours. Your eyes fluttered close as you began to Kiss him. Right away you noticed his lips were extremely soft. It made you get butterflies; Chris was feeling the same way.

Chris slipped his tongue into your mouth making you moan before he pulled away and placed his forehead against yours. The director called cut and you slowly pulled away. Chris ears were red and he looked flustered.

You smiled at him. "Was that good?" You asked Chris. He chuckled, "that was perfect darling." You breathed a sigh of relief. It was finally over.

Later that night

Chris couldn't stop thinking about the kiss you both had earlier that day. The way you kissed blew him away, he wasn't sure why you were so nervous.

He threw his coat onto the trailer couch before he sat down there with a sigh. He was happy he was getting the weekend off, but he hated how he wasn't going to see you for those two days. He grew so attached to you throughout the whole week it was insane. Chris Decided that he wasn't going to spend the weekend alone, he was going to invite you to spend it with him.

-

After a call with Chris, you agreed to spend it with him. He took you out to breakfast Saturday, took you to Disneyland with him. You were scared to go on the rollercoaster unless you held chris' hand.

He Brought you lot of sweets and by time you made it back to your hotel you were out. It was just one day and it was clear you both were getting comfortable with each other.

Sunday, Chris Decided to go easy on you. Around 7pm he invited you out to go eat street food near a lake. You agreed and waited for 7 to roll around.

When it was about half past 6, you got yourself ready. You put on some blue jeans and a simple Graphic shirt.

You left your hotel Room and made your way down to the lobby. Chris was already waiting there. When he saw you, he smiled.

"hi." He hugged you and you hugged him back. "Ready to go?" You nodded, "never been more ready."

Chris nodded, "okay, let's go then." You walked out of the hotel with him and down the streets. It wasn't busy, a few people here and there which was nice. Chris stopped at a food truck and you both ordered some amazing food. You both ate it as you Walked to the bench where the lake was.

You took a seat on the bench as soon as you both reached it; Chris sat beside you. You looked out at the beautiful landscape in front of you.

The city was lit up in front of you, it reflected off the lake. It was beautiful and it was amazing to admire it. Chris noticed.

"it's beautiful isn't it?" You looked over at Chris, "yeah it is." You chuckled placing your empty food tray on the ground beside your chair.

"I always come here when I need to clear my mind. LA is crazy so it's nice." He peered over at the scenery before looking at you.

He had a soft smile on his face. It wasn't a lot but it made you flustered. It was clear you weren't good around guys.

Your hands slipped under your thighs. Chris chuckled, "why are you so nervous? Keeping putting your hands under your legs."

You shook your head. "You make me nervous." You honestly said. Chris grinned, "you make me nervous too."

He bumped your shoulder laughing. You looked at him. "you know what, I want to try that kiss again. You know the one we did two days ago beca-"

You were cut off by Chris lips. He kissed you hard. You moaned as his warm tongue slipped into your mouth. After two minutes Chris pulled away. It was clear his lips were red from how hard he kissed you.

"Because what?"

"Because I love it."

A little fluff for you

Chris beamed, "I love it too." You laughed before you kissed him again. Yeah, you really loved it.

--

[witchlyboo]

Definitely, maybe.

Part five: The one who belongs to someone else.

Introduction. Part one. Part two. Part three. Part four.

Paring: Latina!reader x Logan Lerman x Tom Holland x Ben Hardy x Timothee Chalamet x Pedro Pascal x Michael B. Jordan

Warnings: Swearing, angst, misspellings, some Spanish, me learning how to write properly, and NY stuff that I've learned from movies that we all agree to pretend are real.

Word count: 6.4 k

a/n: You been asking for smut, I know, I know, I just wanted to introduce you to all the boys first, and we're getting there, just one more ahead. Also, I'm working on a masterlist because we are getting too many parts already.

All body types and skin tones friendly. You can also enjoy it as a no Hispanic reader. Constructive feedback and misspellings correction is always welcome.

Red and blue lights flash the driving mirror.

—No, no, no, por favor que no sea a mi—You beg to the sky looking at the patrol that is asking you to park, or someone else, there's a lot of cars in this part of the city, there's a big chance is the panic who's controlling your senses.—Dios, mi abuela fue a la iglesia cada domingo de su vida y nunca te pidió nada, please let me have some of her divina recompensa.—But that's not how it works, you end up parking with just a few seconds to think what to say. There's a perfect explication of why you are driving a car that is not yours in the middle of the night and smelling like a minibar.

Then this ridiculous thought comes to your mind, you look expensive, you've never seen the daughter of a senator but you must be close to it, it would make you less of a feminist if you just use your attributes? Ugh, you feel sick just to think about it but don't have enough money to pay a fine, and the constant paranoia of being chased all the time as an immigrant will only get stronger.

You pull down your dress a little so your neckline can do its job but you regret it immediately, and you're pretty sure you look more like an expensive prostitute who stole the car of his lover than some influential men's daughter.

—License and registration.—You hear him say when he approaches your window. You don't like this but you have to play the dumb tourist, the pretty foreign girl that is too stupid to be dangerous, with the look you have tonight it shouldn't be hard. But damn you hate cops, any uniformed man that works for the government is your eternal enemy, and you don't know how long you could keep the nice dumb Latina game before spit on his face.

—There's something wrong, officer? ...You?!—Your sexy and fake high voice is ruined when you see the face of the man who stopped you. This night couldn't get worse.

—Wait, what happened with the party?—Evan interrupts you while you finish some notes for work, little remainders for later when you don't have an eleven years old kid running around you, he's not usually this energic and you have to blame yourself for that, you're describing a life of excess and eccentric fun, something you let behind so many years ago that your own son doesn't know even a bit of it.

—Ugh, a nightmare doesn't worth telling.—You remember vaguely most of it but what keeps fresh in your mind is bad enough to don't want to bring it back.

—But if Timothée is my dad I have to know the important things, including the bad stuff.—Sounds perfectly reasonable and that's what makes you groan at him. Sometimes you feel blessed that your kid is better than you in any possible way, and sometimes you want to kill his brain with video games and reality shows like the rest of the parents.

—Ok, cool, but I'll keep all the +18 content for myself, so this part of the story might be blurry for you.—It kinda is for you anyway.

You should’ve known this night was cursed, you had a feeling because a) your earring fell off at the same time Timothée texted you to give you the party address and say he can't pick you up. And b) he won’t pick you up. Your mother would say that’s reason enough to not go, a real gentleman wouldn’t make you go to an unknown place in the middle of the night on your own in a city like this. But you decide to ignore it because you are a modern woman and because it’s worth it. It better be.

The outfit must be something special. You always take your time to choose what to wear, even if just another regular day, and since this isn't the case you thought about it for hours, that made your mind busy enough to not thinking about Tom and the whole love confession. He texted you saying he'll come for you to go to class together on Monday, which is completely impractical because he's way closer than you but is progress and you're going to take it.

You wanted to ask for Sheep's opinion but you thought she might not care, has been a few days since she started acting strange like she's bothered just to see you breathe. You want to blame his boyfriend to take all her time and attention from you but is probably just her new job, she got a small role in a Netflix show, and even when you're so happy for her, that's the event that has changed her into someone completely different. But you give her time, stress can do bad things to people.

The winner is the exact copy you made of the black and white striped dress Cameron Diaz wore in "The Mask" beautiful, classy, and sexy enough without being too scandalous, not that you have any problem with that, but this isn't the occasion, you don't want to feel like you're being too much or too little, just enough, it's supposed to be easy, right? you were born for this. Just adding some big shiny earrings you got on a thrift shop that look like real diamonds and you're ready, not that you own any to compare. Red lipstick, dark eyes, and a messy bun to get that disinterested pitch every look needs.

Getting there wasn't a problem, you were in the rich part of the city, everyone know who, where and what just to brag about it. The excitement is growing with every second, you check your makeup like thirty times in the elevator and send texts to your mom just to let her know where you are, and because you have to share that moment with someone and you are limited of friends these days.

Timothée opens the door with red eyes, drunk, high, or somewhere in between, you know then you were right about the bad feeling. He jumps on you to kiss you and no matter how much you try to explain the delicacy of your lipstick, he does it anyway, leaving a taste of alcohol and shrimps in your mouth. Taking you by the waist he walks you to a group of people you don't know while you're trying harder to fix the red color of your mouth without a mirror.

—Here is the companion I bought, look at her, that's how five grand per hour look like.—They laughed but you were too disoriented to process all the things he said, it was supposed to be a joke? if it is, why isn't he correcting? Instead, his hand goes straight to your ass and presses it to get you closer to him.

—I'm actually an intern in the costume designer department of the new version of "Sense and Sensibility".—You wanted to mention your recent promotion to hairstylist and makeup artist but that might be too pretentious. Anyway, they don't seem to care what you are or not, in fact, they don't even see you, all eyes are on Timothée

—Oh, well, is easy to forget when you're paying them—All laughs again. Who is this person? Who are all these people, actually? You recognize some influencers, a few cast members but there's no sign of the director, other main actors, not even his co-star. You feel like an extra in a movie where someone will be killed in a luxury party, hopefully not you. You take his hand from your body and clear your throat.—I'm just joking my love, she looks stunning, isn't she? I’ll get you a drink.

He leaves and the group of people surrounding you suddenly dissipated like boiling water, you were on your own again and despite some judgmental gazes is like you’re not there, you’re sure you could just take your dress off and throw it to someone’s face and unless Tim says something about it, no one would care. You’re there as his companion, an ornament, and that’s not enough to earn their attention because it’s too obvious you’re the one in turn.

You walk to the only window no one is smoking and check your phone, you know, the thing you do when you pretend you have important issues to attend, but no, you end reading some old messages, pictures, texting your mom of how much fun you’re having at the party, and somehow you check your filed Facebook messages to find Logan’s name. You cover the screen so fast you hurt your nail, his name is enough to make you tremble like a Chihuahua, you haven’t talked to him since that night, you know from his sister he lives in the house he bought for you two and he’s having the happiest life without you. You want to believe that because that means you took the right decision but deep inside… no, you can’t be that person, you want him to be happier than ever.

You find the guts to open the message, and you read as slowly as is humanly possible. “My angel, I hope this finds you in perfect health…” Dios, just Logan could start a message like that, your smile is almost too big to fit in your face so you bit your nail to cover it a little. “I recently found one of the human body drawings you made for me to study, you’ll be happy to know…”

—That’s a fucking long-ass message.—Tim appears behind you and takes your phone from your hand, spilling some of his drink on your dress in the process. Apparently, he's been there long enough to read part of the message.

—Give it back.—You command in the most severe voice you have, your magical moment got ruined and you remember the hole of hell you are.

—"My angel, I hope this finds you in perfect health. I recently found one of the human body drawings you made for me to study, you must know I still use them now and then"—Timothée starts reading the message, and even when no one is close enough to hear it and you don’t really care about this people’s opinion, that’s not for anyone to read, that’s one of the few parts of your life you treasure the most and you’re not ready to get over it.—You little slut, are you cheating on me with a med student?

—Give it to me.—You repeat trying to take the phone from his hand but he’s faster and walks away putting it out of your reach.

—"I meticulously preserve them, I certainly know any piece of art made by you will be priceless in the near future"—You don’t want to hear it coming from his drunk mocking voice, so you try to ignore what he’s saying and put more effort on chasing the phone.—Should I had kept the jeans where you left the wet spot on? I didn’t know you were an artist, my love.

—Timothée, por el amor de Dios.—Now you're trying to climb him, it wouldn't be that hard to take him down, he's skinny and you're fierce. That's what you thought but he's not moving even with you are on top of his shoulder and his opposite long arm keeps the phone away from you.

—Who is this guy and why is he talking to my girl like this?—You see the olive eyes getting darker and the tone of his voice went deeper than you thought he could do. You desist from taking the phone, you know the bullies love the attention, maybe that's exactly what he wants and give it to him just makes it worse.

—I'm not your girl.—You claim fixing up your dress having enough of games, and you have no reason to keep worrying about losing your job, the filming is done, and apparently your relationship with him too. You don't care about any of that anymore, just want to read Logan's text.

Even behind all the alcohol and the eyes injected in blood thanks for who knows what kind of drug, you can see the disappointment and anger, but it's not a broken heart, Is the hissy fit of a child that loses his balloon and now everyone will pay for it, especially you.

—Are you sure about that?—You can see him swallow hard, almost looking vulnerable, but his voice is defiant and threatening to prove you wrong. He just has to stretch out his arm to reach the open window with your phone in hand, his intentions are clear and the only thing you can do is raise your hands as a reflex.—You were mine the moment you put a foot on my trailer, and I don't fucking share my stuff.—Before you can say a word he drops the phone from the fourth floor.

You know is senseless but you find yourself running out of the party and going to search the device, using it also as an excuse to get away from that place. This is the first time someone makes you feel meaningless, you know the famous' world is cold and lacking in empathy but this is ridiculous, they're a bunch of parasites fed by attention and power. By Timothée.

The screen is crashed and the rest of it is probably beyond repair, not that you're surprised, its life is longer than you've been in the country and you admit you should have replaced it much earlier but you're not the kind to throw away things that still work. However, is not the phone you are worried about, not as much as what it contains.

—That was obsolete anyway, I'll get you a better one.—You didn't know he was following you, his voice interrupts your self-wailing. He sounds calmer and a little embarrassed, but not enough to say sorry, you don't think he's capable of saying it.

You shake your head and start to walk away without a word, you don't want anything from him, not materially, at least.

—Don't make a scandal out of it, it's just a phone!—He yells erasing any trace of regret in his voice. He doesn't see the reaction he expected and that's when he runs after you and with a hand on your upper arm pulls you back, you gasped for the sudden bluntness.—That annoying habit you have of leaving when I'm talking to you.

You push him away with all the strength you have, which resulted in him almost falling on the ground.

—I don't care about the stupid phone!—You finally break, but sadly is not as satisfactory as you thought it would be.—You are mean, vain, arrogant and the worst part is that you enjoy being this despicable human because you have absolutely no consequences to it. Everyone around you just accepts it and I feel so sorry for you because the only possible way for you to fill the void inside is to be surrounded by that crowd of mules licking your steps—To your surprise, he has nothing to say, he's just standing there with no facial expression, whatever he feels is easily covered by his years of experience acting, even drunk.—I can't give you that and it's obvious they don't want me either. What am I even doing here?—You ask yourself thinking where would be the best way of getting a cab, is a rich zone, must be easy.

—Everything is better when you're around—His voice is thin and fragile, you have to process what he said three times in your head to understand his words. You're not willing to look at him yet.—You're not like the others.

—Pure bullshit. You love to repeat that misogynist discourse of girls being in a certain way because is easier than be responsible for the people you choose to be—You were hugging yourself the whole time, is a cold night, but not enough to be bothersome, you enjoy Fall weather—You got me for a moment, I give you that, you fooled me but I'm too tired of guessing what version of you is real—When you return your gaze at him, he doesn't try to hide the guilt anymore, but there's still haughtiness in there.—Now, if you don't mind Mr. Chalamet, I need to get a cab.

—No, you came with me, you leave with me.—There's no trace of alcohol in his voice anymore, a good scolding is enough to put you sober, you know that thanks to your mom. Oh god, you're becoming her.

—You didn't bring me here, gigantic head—You look at him and put your hand in front of him with the palm up. He stares at it for several seconds before put his own on it—Not that!—You shake it and start looking inside his jeans pockets until you feel the metal of his key car.—You can't drive and I have to get home. You'll find it in the studio tomorrow.

That's how you ended with a car way more luxurious than you expected, driving so slowly and carefully that the police stopped you. What a night, but at this point, you couldn't care less about anything that is not that message, is been months and you can't get over it, over him. Not even Ben moans, Tom's comforting arms, or fight with a movie star at 3:00 am. is enough to get him out of your mind.

—So is true, you don't wear anything that hasn't appeared in a movie, huh?—Michael B. Jordan is leaning on the car window with a mocking smile and a sparkle of satisfaction that you would love to punch but his uniform keeps you in line, where you come from police is not equal to justice, most of the times is oppression.

—You know where it's from?—That was kind of comforting, no one at the party noticed. Not that you care.

—Is The Mask, not some Adam Hitchcock's blurb.—He smiles and even when you really don't like him, it's nice to be with a familiar face, you are really tired of running away, scaping for problems that are a result of your null capacity to deal with emotions. Ugh, what a word.

—Is Alfred Hitchcock, actually.—You didn't want to sound priggish, but you correct him with no time to stop yourself, an old habit.

—You got me, smarty, you know more than movies than me. Where did you get this car?—You feel really nervous even when you got this legally, you have your documents and license on time and he's being nice enough to not want to run away in a car that you technically borrowed for yourself.

—It's not mine.—No shit, Sherlock.

—No shit, Sherlock, I was asking where did you steal it.—You wanted to laugh but there's something with the uniform that just doesn't allow you to be yourself.—Are you drunk?

—No, no, fuck, no, it's just, I don't feel comfortable with cops—He raises his eyebrows but that is his only reaction.—Listen, is my boss' car, I'm doing the favor to take it to the studio, and I'm really nervous because is fucking expensive, he's an asshole, I haven't drive un almost a year because you people only use cars if you're rich or your work and lives depend on it. I'm starving.—The last part came out of nowhere, you haven't eaten anything in almost 13 hours, maybe that's the actual reason why you are that moody.

He doesn't answer right away, takes his time to look at you, what makes you blush, he's really close, closer than he's ever been. Does he smell like green apples? Not the actual apples, the artificial smell they had given to them.

—Get out of the car.—Oh no, is he arresting you? Is he finally taking revenge for every time you make fun of his Hawaiian-type shirts? You know you have too much karma accumulated and a cop making you pay for it when you don’t believe in their sense of justice is kinda poetic, and evil.

You don’t want to discuss with someone with a taser, gun, pepper spray, or who knows what else. So you take your bag, the key car, and get off defeated.

—My turn is almost over, I’ll take you to eat something, c’mon.—He walks back to his patrol and you stay still for a few seconds still processing his words, you must look totally devastated for him to offer that. How you see it you have two options, go with him and spend an awkward hour with a person you don’t like or risk getting a fine, Tim can pay it, it’s not a big deal but you don’t want to owe him even the minimal thing.

You get in the car holding on to your bag to feel calmer, this is the first time you’re fully alone with him since you found him half-naked in your kitchen. Those defined abs may never leave your brain.

—Are you cold?—He interrupts your thoughts with his question, you didn’t notice you were shaking. He looks for something under his seat and gives you an NYPD hoodie, you hold it doubting your next move, is not like you don’t appreciate the gesture but it’d be easier to take if it doesn’t get that words printed—Is clean.—He says chuckling when he sees the way you’re looking at it.

—Is not that, just, you know, fuck the police, defund the NYPD, demilitarize the pigs and that stuff.—You say putting on the hoodie anyway, is a cold night and you won't help the institution wearing their propaganda.

—Yeah, I get it, but you can't change the system just from within.—You decide is not the right moment to have a political conversation so you shrug your shoulders and discreetly smell the hoodie, a mix of cologne, green apples, and cheap soap, you know is cheap because you buy the exact same, do its job.

—I'm in the mood for pizza.—You say casually, making a deal to yourself to try to be his friend, he is a small part of your life anyway.—Domino's is open at this time of the night?

—Tell me you're not consuming that shit, dear Lord, you been here for how long, two years? I can't believe your idea of a good pizza is Domino's. Stella hasn't taught you anything?—You're surprised by the level of condescension with a pizza and you mirror his smile, suddenly feeling embarrassed. Your school program includes people from all around the world so you don't have that much experience with actual new yorkers. Logan is rich, so he doesn't really count.

—What's wrong with Domino's? I don't buy much street food, is cheaper to buy things on the food market. Besides, all pizza is good.—The mention of Sheep makes you a little tense, so you don't say anything about it, is not a conversation to have with him.

—Don't blaspheme in the patrol, I just washed it—You laugh, finally, after a terrible weekend. You can see why she likes him, there is something about his voice, smile, and his eyes that feel... calm, like watching Friends after a marathon of Lord of the Rings.—There are rules to survive this city, and I'm surprised you have made it this far without a proper guide.

—Chill out Mr. Miyagi, I'm not from the jungle, and I've learned a lot by myself.—He gives you a lopsided grin as a request, and you put your fingers up ready to enlist your acquired knowledge.—Walk fast, like you're about to be stabbed, something that actually happened to me, with an umbrella—He nods and laughs being related to it.—Number two, no small talk, no one cares, even if they ask. Number three, if you look a stranger in the eye, especially a homeless person, you have essentially invited them to approach you.

—Number four, we never eat from Domino's, Papa John's, Pizza hut, or any other chain restaurant, only trucks and local places are allowed.—You roll your eyes but you get the point, is just, again, you're not much into street food, it doesn't taste like home and the only way to eat food like that is preparing it yourself.

—Fine, fuck capitalism, let's support local places—You make an obvious fake enthusiastic tone but he nods proudly.—Number five, you don't need a car to live here, not even know how to drive. I would have successfully avoided this police brutality if I had followed that rule.

—For someone who is about to eat for free, you whine too much.—He parks the car and gives you a sign to go with him. You see him go to a pizza truck and order, you realize at the moment how ridiculous you look, so before chasing him you let your hair down, take your huge earrings off, and roll up the skirt of your dress until your mid-thighs letting the hoodie cover the rest, and clean the red lipstick with a Kleenex from your bag. Now you look more like a college person and not a rich girl who just got seized.

—Here you go.—He says giving you a slice as big as your head, looks oily and spreading cheese everywhere. Perfect.

—Is it vegan?—You ask receiving the food with an obnoxious face. His kind grind turned into a dread expression and you give him your second laugh of the day.—I'm kidding.

You are about to give it a bite when you see passing next to you a huge rat with the exact same slice as yours in its mouth, running into the dark of the night happy to have obtained the food for its family. They use to scare you when you just moved out but now they're like any other pigeon in the sky.

—Rule... whatever, a rat with a slice of pizza is a symbol for good luck, congratulations.—He pets your head awkwardly, not sure if you're ok with the physical contact, which, surprisingly, you are.

—I see rats with bagels all the time.—Pizza and bagels, that's the main culinary wonders of the city, you like it, not much to object but is hard not to compare it with your home's food.

—Is easy to confuse a rough diamond with a simple rock.—You both eat in silence, enjoying the mixed sounds of the city and all the different smells, the whole situation feels like one of those lofi music videos. You remember thinking about moments like this before getting the scholarship, what would it be like to feel normal in the city of your dreams.

—How do you know that much about movies?—He asks after a few minutes when you take a break to drink something, that pizza is not easy to take.

—When I was a kid a spent much time on my own, so my dad bought me a used DVD reproducer, and at the corner of my neighborhood was this movie store where you could buy 5 pirate movies for one dollar. They were blurred, with a terrible sound, and most of the time with the wrong movie inside but they helped me to not feel lonely. Eventually, the store closed but I've watched everything in it by then—He gives you a warm smile, you never told that story to anyone, not because is too intimate to share, but because no one asked, it doesn't sound like a question with a complex answer.—Anyway, I watched Marie Antoinette when I was like eight, and I decided at that moment that however is done I wanted to be part of that magic.

—You hear all kind of people chasing dreams in this city but is hard to find someone who actually deserves it.—You blush and you cover it with your hair but the smile on your voice is impossible to hide.

—Is that a compliment? You must really want me to like you to date Sheep.—You laugh but you can see his face tense, so you can guess your friend has been busy breaking everyone’s hearts.

—She hasn’t returned my calls in three days so I don’t think there’s much you can do—You nod, all this time you thought he was the reason she is ignoring you but apparently you are both in the same boat.—But yeah, I don’t know what I was thinking, what I should have said is, Marie Antoinette at eight? I can see where all the damage started.

You gasp and throw your napkin at his head, he easily catches it without even looking at it and laughs; that was unexpectedly attractive.

—Why a cop?—You ask, not sure where that question came from, maybe you authentically want to know more about him, he just bought you food, and honestly, that's the easiest way to win your trust.

—I wanted to be an actor when I was a child. This is the city of opportunities so you may think that if you want to chase the big wonder, this is the perfect place to do it. But I grow up surrounded by these people giving their entire lives to get something just given to one in a million so I decided is not worth it. For many years I wondered what I wanted to do with my life and the answer was really clear, my dad was a cop, a good one, or that’s what people say. I don’t remember much because he died when I was seven—Conversations about death are not your strength, everything can turn out uncomfortable if you choose the wrong words.—It might not be that glamorous but if my father died for it, it surely worth it.

—For the good ones.—You raise your almost empty can of Coke and he does the same with a grin that warms the cold weather of the night.

—For the good ones.

The next two hours passed like minutes talking about anything and everything. It just felt right to talk freely with him, you didn’t feel judged for your awkward family moments or your random thoughts, not even once because he told you his too. At some point of the night he borrowed you his gym sweatpants, any of you could just suggest going home but that was off the table, end that peace just for weather reasons would have been a tragedy.

—I read Timothée Chalamet is a dick. Is that true?—The mention of his name remains you of your life and everything that comes with it, including the middle semester project that you must dedicate your entire day, one that is about to start.—What, you can’t talk about it?

—He is a complete dick with no sense of privacy or human decency—And when he interrupts a deep kiss to look at your eyes, smile, and caress your chin, you feel like a character of his Victorian movies. But he didn’t ask that.—But the next week he’ll be no longer my problem.

—That’s why we have rule twenty-three, don’t ask for a picture of a celebrity unless they are local—You have heard about it before but you haven’t got the opportunity to decide if you like that rule because the only celebrities you have seen are from work and that club’s party opening.—That means you’ll be free to go to the Stephen Kings’ movie projection there will be for Halloween.

You don’t know if that was a proposition, a suggestion, or just a simple recommendation, and whatever it is, you noticed he was nervous to ask. Is it wrong? It feels wrong like you were betraying your friend accepting to hang out with his boyfriend without her consent. But he didn’t ask you to go with him so is safe to answer.

—Yeah, I guess—You get a moment, four seconds top, where you shared innocent, curious, and tenting gazes like three graders in the playground. And that’s the further you will allow yourself to go.—We better leave, if the sunlight touch me I’ll turn into dust.

You get off the car hood and go to the side door, but this time he opens it for you. You give him a “seriously?” Look, receiving a little push in your arm as a response.

↬☀︎︎

A distant voice asks you to wake up, softly whispers that turn into caresses on your cheek, your eyes feel so heavy, even when you are well aware of your environment your eyelids keep closed.

—Good morning, Princess—This is the first time Tom calls you that way, the change from silly nicknames to Princess is enough to get you out of hibernation. He is squatting beside your bed, his smile is the promise of a better day, and chasing that idea you give him one small back.—Your mom has been texting me desperately all day, she said you're not answering her calls and is worried.

—Fuck, my phone broke last night, can I call her from yours?—That’s an oversimplification but in the search for a better story, that's what you decide to believe and tell. Tom nods and gives it to you, he looks happy, beyond that, this is the first time you see that subtle blush on his cheeks and the eyes sparkling. You sit on the bed next to his body looking for your mom's number, slowly he moves between your legs, you have shorts and an oversized Back To The Future t-shirt, you got took the time to prepare yourself to bed last night and keep Michael’s clothes inside your closet to wash them, like The Tell-Tale Heart, a little innocent secret who feels dirty somehow

The conversations with your mom are always long, nostalgic and the tears are hard to hold for both parts; after a long life sharing almost every day with her, her absence never feels smaller. But this time is different, Tom is exploring the bare skin under your knee with his warm hands, asking for permission with curious eyes, and when you don’t object to the touch the British boy keeps his exploring mission cautiously, giving special attention to see your eyes in case something change. Is time to hang up when he gives a long and loving kiss to your knee, the less erotic kiss you could think of but so intimate to bristle your skin.

—Not nice to touch someone's daughter when is talking to her mom.—The protest of your voice loses strength at every word, he heard that and just straight his back to reach your face, the gap is almost extinct.

—We're okay, she likes me.—He assures holding your hips and pulling you a bit to him. Tom looks very comfortable with the new closeness authorization, you like it but are not very sure about it yet, most of you still think of him as your best friend.

—Did she tell you that? Are you talking with my mom behind my back?—You laugh when he does, almost like nothing changed.

—She adores me, I swear, I'm invited to Christmas, you know?—You're not surprised, she invites everyone, Logan was too but the first time he got family plans and didn't make it to the second.

—You should go, maybe we can do...—His lips touch yours in a peak at the middle phrase and makes you forget what you were about to say.—Man, the audacity to interrupt...—Then he kisses you again, deeply, using his tongue to taste your inner lip and his hands holding your shirt in fists. That's a twist of events.

—Is that ok?—You hear a weak whisper coming out of his voice but you got so mesmerized on his lips that decided to ignore it and kiss him back instead. He responds to your touch and starts to lean over you to make you lay on the bed.

Jesucristo bendito, is this happening? like, actually happening? you must look like trash, you barely took all the makeup from the night before and didn't take a shower, you start to get so worried about smells, feelings, and what that'll mean to your already too much-spoiled friendship.

However, the time of doubts is done when Sheep starts yelling in the living room, you both reacted running to the sound and looking for your blonde friend. Michael is there but doesn't look like the same as a few hours ago, is annoyed and tired for the lack of sleep, a look that doesn't match him at all.—What did you do?—You ask him fast assuming she's mad for something he did.

—Just in time, the star of the movie, I was wondering how much it will take you to be the protagonist of this.—That is Sheep's voice talking about you and what must be your heart breaking from her words.

—Excuse me?—You wish your tone would be less savage but you can't help respond the same way she did.

—Logan wasn't enough, then you got the drummer, fucking Timothée Chalamet, Tom and now my boyfriend. I'm so glad I didn't leave you alone with my dad or I'd be calling you mom now.—You have no words to that, Michael doesn't even dare to look at you, he must have told her something she misunderstood, but Sheep, or well, Stella is saying things she actually thinks and keep to herself. Tom walks in front of you whispering things to her to calm her down but she is not looking at him, you didn't tell her anything about Tom either so he's taking responsibility this time.—Go ahead and fuck the whole city, Michael if that please you but you're crossing the line with Tom and you know that, you're going to ruin him as you ruin every man that enters in your life.—She has a very you moment having the last word of the dispute and getting out of the apartment with Michael going after her but not putting much effort in it.

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