#which i do have to some degree. but it's really just the super wide open spaces with no wall to my back that gets me

[nexus-nebulae]

hmmm i want railings on my bed like a hospital bed but most Bed Railings they sell have to be placed under the mattress to stay in place and i have an adjustable base that means my mattress gets folded frequently and cannot keep the rail in place

[itsthatmff]

Watching you win a fight ||| Monster Trio, Ace

Just something i came up with out of boredom.

She/her pronouns used.

Requests are open anytime !

Luffy

“Woaah, that’s my Y/N !!”

Would be super happy and proud of you, like actually

Wouldn’t stop bragging to the other straw hats about how you beat that enemies ass

After fighting his own enemy he’d come rushing to you thinking you’d need some help beating yours, but when he sees the enemy knocked out, and you standing there heavily breathing, His face would brighten up so much.

“You actually beat him Y/N !! You’re so cool. You didn’t even need any help” he’d come up to you with the brightest grin on earth.

He’d keep on complimenting you about how well you’ve done, and he’d ask you to tell him about the entire fight in detail.

If you think he’d leave you alone and stop talking about it, you’re wrong. Dude mumbles how amazing you fought even in his sleep.

Even though he’s obviously much stronger than you, he kinda looks up to you when it comes to fighting.

Zoro

“Care fighting me next?”

The fact that you beat a super strong enemy all by yourself made you 100 times more attractive than you were before to Zoro.

Good looking AND can fight ?? Thats like a Win-Win right there.

And the way you were still looking so beautiful even with bruises and blood on your face and body, made his heart skip a beat ngl.

You both would be fighting in the same spot, and sometimes he’d turn around to check on how you were doing with the enemy. Seeing you finally defeat the enemy all by yourself would put a big smirk on his face that he couldn’t hide for gods sake.

Wouldn’t even hide how impressed he was, as when it comes to his passions , like fighting for example, he can’t help but butt in and give his opinion.

“You did really well.”

He’d be kinda shook even, especially if its his first time watching you fight. The way you recklessly knocked out others made his crush just grow bigger.

He’d jokingly say to fight him next. Which is just another way of him saying “you’re actually making me fall in love with you.”

He would NOT forget that fight of yours ever. Sometimes when he tries to take a nap, he likes to envision how attractive you looked in that fight.

He definetly respected you before, but now his respect towards you increased by thousands.

Sanji

“Y/N-swaan, punch me next <3”

Sanji.exe stopped working

He’d probably be midst in a fight, then he’d turn around for a second to catch you in his sight. The torn bloody clothes were enough for him to drop the cigarette between his mouth.

He’d probably tell his enemy to shut up and let him watch the fight in peace.

Would be supportive 100%. Like he’d be yelling as if he were in an audience.

Would make a fan chant. Like duh, he’s your number 1 Fan

After the fight he’d make an extra special meal for you, saying how you “fought so hard” to deserve it. (The other crew members wont even get to taste a single drop, he’ll make sure of it)

He’d probably randomly ask you to hit him afterwards. I feel like he’d be into that 💀.

Ace

“That’s so hot. Not me, I mean you.”

If it’s the first time he’s seeing you beat up an enemy, he’d be flabbergasted. Is there something you can’t do at this point ??

He’d quietly watch you, with a wide grin. Once you’re done and turn around to face him, the coolness in him fades away. Your serious face and the scarred clothes swoon him instantly, and his face turns pretty red.

Poor man would be stuttering and struggling to even get a word out. He’d catch a chance and treat you out to dinner though. Not before checking in with a doctor to see if you have any severe wounds.

He loves the fact that you’re such a strong and independent woman. Just thinking about it makes his stomach turn 360 degrees.

He knows you can protect yourself, but if you somehow still get hurt, he’ll turn MAD mad. He’d skewer whoever hurt you for dinner.

100 % will praise you after beating an enemy as a boyfriend. Sometimes he’ll hug you and fall asleep with his face on your shoulder whilst praising you, so he’ll mumble some words like “well done princess” WHILE HES SLEEPING, IN A FIGHT. that definetly confuses most enemies that are supposed to be fighting with ace at that moment.

Loves imagining you saving him from a fight. He’d be staring holes at the kitchen counter just thinking about it.

The type of guy to just sit back and watch others getting their ass beaten by his girlfriend for fun.

[bayesic-bitch]

Honestly the thing I find kind of frightening about the recent wave of large language models is the degree to which they developed capabilities that we did not explicitly give them. Like more and more it seems like transformers are a truly universal architecture that can do almost any task you can give them.

Like okay, they can do a little bit of math and solve some simple logic puzzles. The thing that I find so so startling is that they get this and also the common sense reasoning necessary to solve them without there being specialized architectures for those things. There's been a ton of work on trying to plug machine learning algorithms into formal reasoning models and trying to learn them together. Neural Turing machines, differentiable neural computers, Markov logic networks, fuzzy logic, neurosymbolic languages like Scallop and Neuralogic. This is decades of work from half a dozen different angles. Turns out you don't need it. Just make the model bigger and it can do math.

What about vision? It's a field with a long history. hand engineered features like wavelets gave way to convolutional networks, but those are also being replaced by guess what? that's right transformers! You dont even really need to think about the structure of the problem, just feed it to a transformer and also feed it text, and the fact that it's jointly trained with language improves its performance.

What about planning in robotics? Again, field with 50+ years of research. Turns out GPT actually just solves this too with no robot- or planning-focused training at all. All you have to do is ask it to write a plan and it'll give you one, a lot more easily than we could with the existing frameworks we've spent 50 years developing.

This is why it's driving me nuts seeing all these posts dumping on alignment concerns by saying "oh but intelligence isn't just one thing, just because GPT is good at text generation doesn't mean it'll be good at all the other things we call intelligence". This is completely missing the point. Whether or not it's necessarily true, what we're rapidly finding is that the current generation of language models very much are able to solve a wide variety of tasks, even for things it wasn't specially trained for. I cannot emphasize enough that what's concerning about this is 1) nobody was trying to make a model that could specifically do math or reasoning or planning. There's no specialized math or planning part of the model. It just figured out how to do them. 2) The transformer architecture seems to be a fully general, or nearly fully general, tool for learning from almost any kind of data. The paper that introduced the model was called Attention is All You Need, and that's only proven to be more and more true over time. For many tasks, attention really is all you need. It really feels like we're getting a lot closer to truly general artificial intelligence.

Now, I do actually think there are some things separating our current knowledge from building something really generally intelligent, and several more that separate us from making super-human level intelligence (most notably, while you can probably get human level intelligence from imitating humans, I don't think you can get superhuman intelligence this way -- you need some way of reasoning about exploration and how to gather new out-of-distribution data). But by far the longest standing open problem in AI has not been "how to do reasoning" or "how to do math", but "how to encode common-sense reasoning into an AI". It's an old enough problem that philosophers have built careers talking about why it's so hard. And I cannot stress enough that this problem, long considered to be the holy grail of the field, is now very close to being solved, if it isn't solved already. GPT-3 gets 65% on Winograd schemas, and GPT-4 gets nearly 95%. Is anybody really betting against the idea that GPT-5 will get 99.8% or higher? It would not at all surprise me if a lot of the other problems after this, like enabling long chains of correct reasoning, ended up being easier than this one.

[max1461]

Somehow I feel like, despite having a ling degree, I don't really know anything about linguistics. I feel like I know way more math than ling, to be honest. And I don't know that much math. But I think doing math raised my standards significantly for what "knowing" means. Obviously linguistics is an empirical field, so it's different, but frankly I haven't deeply engaged with most of the empirical work. An undergrad ling degree mostly familiarizes you with a sort of overview impression of the field—what are the basic concepts, what are the basic abstractions and methodologies being used here. I think this is because ling is so unfamiliar to most people that they have to do it this way. Plus there's a lot of focus on problem sets and so on, same as something like physics. My ling degree definitely prepared me to do phonological analysis, syntactic analysis, and so on. In fact that's most of what it was. But the epistemic grounding wasn't very present.

Obviously those things are all important skills for a linguist, but I think teaching the field that way gives the (false) impression that undergrad linguistics is in some sense a "solved" field the way undergrad physics is. Like, ok, we totally understand how all these systems work, and we're just teaching you how to solve problems within them. But that's not true of ling, really.

So like, I could provide very useful help to anyone who has to solve, like, a phonology problem, but if you ask me "How do we know this? How is this all established?" I'd have a lot of gaps in my knowledge. Even stuff like the psychological reality of the phoneme, which is super basic. But I haven't looked at the studies on that! Like, sure, you can study phonology as purely a formal system, but it looks a lot less well motivated without the psychological grounding.

And many of my gaps are also just gaps in the field's knowledge! Like, pick a random linguistics question that people care about, it's probably both unsolved and widely considered intractable. Anything a non-linguist would ask a linguist, pretty much, has >60% chance of being an open question.

So that's what I mean when I say I don't know linguistics. I'm good at linguistics, I think, but I don't have strong epistemic grounding in it. I mean I have a little, obviously, but not as much as I'd like. Whereas with math, you know, I know what I know. There's a lot of shit I don't understand, but for the stuff I do understand, I've read the proof. My knowledge doesn't get anywhere near the top but it goes all the way to the bottom. Not so for linguistics. This really bothers me but that's part of what I hope to fix at this grad program.

[phdmama]

15 questions

thank you for the tag darling @sitp-recs!! Gosh I haven’t gotten myself together in ages to do one of these!!  Imma tag... let’s see: @phoebe-delia @julcheninred @kingsofeverything @allwaswell16 @mxlfoydraco  and YOU!!! (Like, for real!!)

are you named after anyone? my first name is original to me (in my family obvs), it’s a common name with an uncommon spelling and I have a very uncommon nickname! My middle name is my paternal grandmother’s, who I never knew but seems like she was pretty amazing.

when was the last time you cried? I haven’t had a full-out weep in a while but I get teary all the time. When I was talking to my husband this morning about the impact of my new meds and realizing how fucking compromised I’ve been, now that the fog is starting to lift. I got teary.   

do you have kids? well it’s in the name! Yes, I do. I have three human kids and two cats. 

do you use sarcasm a lot? I do some? I’m super SUPER concrete so it’s difficult for me, because It often just feels mean and I cannot handle that. It’s taken me 23 years with my husband to be able to bicker/banter in that way, because he’s the person I trust the absolute most in the world, and I know he would never be mean to me. My kids often will spell it out for me (IT’S A JOKE MOM).

what’s the first thing you notice about people? smile

what’s your eye colour? It says blue on my driver’s license but I do have some center heterochromia so I have a ring of yellow around my pupil.

scary movies or happy endings? oh I am way way WAAAAY too anxious to handle seriously scary movies. I cannot do horror. I do, however, deeply enjoy natural disaster films, especially involving asteroids or volcanos. I always want a happy ending though. I’m well-aware that reality doesn’t always give us that, so I like it from my entertainment.

any special talents? I’m pretty musical, I have a good ear and a decent enough voice. I play violin, viola, some piano and was doing guitar for a while but kind of lost momentum.

where were you born? Large city in the midwest of the US!

what are your hobbies? too many omg. Knitting, sewing, photography, reading, writing (obvs), taking classes (my husband has BANNED me from any more degrees goddamnit), music...

do you have any pets? two cats and three kids!

what sports do you play/have you played? I am... let’s call it, not really an organized sports kinda of pal. I studied martial arts for about 10 years, I’ve done a LOT of yoga, running, barre, recreational skiing. Oh wait, I swam on the swim team for a few years as a kid but that was approximately 8 billion years ago. I played soccer for literally one day, but my god. So much running. 

how tall are you? 5′ 4.5″ and I’m the fucking shortest one in my family

favourite subject at school: honestly I love to learn, and if the teacher is good, I’ll be into It. I took some philosophy classes in college that absolyutely blew my mind wide open and changed me as a person. I loved research design, psychopathology, my counseling classes in my MA and PhD. I fucking love statistics SO MUCH. Like, a lot. Linear algebra was super fun. In my MS program, I really enjoyed my research design classes, my quant class, my digital behavior data class, text as data is cool but the prof was not so good, and my causal inference class was incredible. I’m taking data ethics right now which is so fun except for how the entire class is, you know, wrong. So, I guess I just really love a lot of things.

dream job: realisitcally, a data ethicist in health care resarch. If I could get paid and health insurance to sit around and read and get spa treatments, well, I’d definitely do that. I’ve learned that I actually really do not want to be paid for the hobbies I do for enjoyment (crafting, photography, writing etc), as it completely saps the joy from it for me.

[edoro]

OC characterization: 3, 12, 14, 15, foooor... Jackson!

3. What’s something pointless/petty/unimportant that IRRATIONALLY ANNOYS THE HELL out of your OC? - well, i don't know if it's "irrational" exactly but he has some pretty intense sensory issues so certain noises will just make him SO upset. cannot stand being in the same room as other people who are eating because the sound of chewing or cutlery clinking/scraping on plates makes him want to commit murder and/or cry.

Jackson tends to get easily annoyed but also gets over it pretty quickly... he'll sulk for a few minutes and then be fine. things happening unexpectedly or mild disappointments can upset him a lot, like finding out he's unexpectedly out of his favorite cereal or something like that...

also, when he acquires his beautiful kitty Cheesecake, he WILL demand that people greet her, and he WILL get mad if they ignore her when they walk past her or she comes into the room.

also a lot of times the degree to which Laurence insists on Following The Rules Because They Are The Rules drives him up the wall. he needs things to make sense, and a lot of the stuff Laurence insists is important just does not make sense to him.

12. What perfectly-normal-to-them-thing does your OC do that confuses/pisses off/terrifies their neighbors? - everything about Jackson is confusing to people who don't know him lmao. he's never seen outside without the wrap-around mirrored shades of a celebrity trying to avoid the paparazzi. his gender is ??? and his presentation ranges from "androgynous pajama casual" to "sugar baby being taken on a date to a black tie event" with no apparent rhyme or reason. his response to being spoken to by strangers is to either stare in wide-eyed silence or to immediately begin enthusiastically rambling about whatever topic happens to be on his mind at the moment and he has little to no concept of "conversational norms."

he doesn't interact much with the neighbors except for accompanying Max on his hikes and walks to reduce the chances of someone calling the cops on him for WWB, however he DOES have a number of habits that concern his partners/roommates, such as:

-creeping around in the middle of the night with all the lights off (he sees very well in the dark) to sneak food

-hiding in spaces like under the bed, in the closet, or under the coffee table to chill out and accidentally (or sometimes on purpose) jumpscaring people

-taking care of any and all illnesses or injuries on his own or with his twin's help

14. What thing did your OC’s parents do that your OC wishes they had a better explanation for? - lol. lmao.

uhhh pretty much literally everything, starting with "why did you even decide to have us in the first place?" and going from there. Laurence and Jackson were born to a single trans father who went to some length and expense to get pregnant with them using a sperm bank, and he proceeded to raise them both in the most insane way possible, keeping them incredibly isolated and trying to mold them both into his personal little ideal doll children based on his whack-a-doodle gender norms.

Jackson would especially personally like to know why he was the target of so much more outright physical violence than Laurence was, and why their dad just seemed to never really like him from the start. they were both horrifically abused, but Jackson's abuse included a degree of open sadism that was much more subtle in Laurence's, and he still doesn't really understand why he was singled out that way in particular.

also, he does NOT get why their dad divided up the chores the way he did. it seems so arbitrary! and even when Laurence (pre-coming out) WANTED to do 'boy chores', their dad wouldn't let him! absolute bullshit!

he just really wants an explanation for like... his entire life.

15. How often does your OC “zone out” or do things on autopilot and how severe have the problems that have arisen from that been? - oh SUPER often. Jackson dissociates a ton, at times severely enough that he'll lose hours-long chunks of time.

the biggest problem, for the most part, is that he'll spend a while doing things and then just not remember what he did during that time, which freaks him out. sometimes he'll just kind of end up sleeping or doing nothing all day, just sort of sitting and staring or wandering vaguely around.

he's also gotten VERY lost trying to do things like go to the store or go outside on his own, where he forgets what he's doing or where he's going or why he's there or where he is and gets turned around and confused. it makes it hard for him to hold conversations because he can't remember what people just said or what he was going to say, and often struggles to really verbalize his thoughts at all (or even HAVE thoughts.)

he's hurt himself doing stuff around the house because he forgot he was holding something sharp or touched something hot or things like that. on occasion he's burned food or left a burner on or things like that, which used to get him punished when he and Laurence lived with their dad.

his memory of his own life up until his dad died and he and Laurence moved in with Max and Emmy is really fragmented and spotty. there's a lot of stuff he just doesn't remember at all, including some specific things that happened to him while Laurence was away at college that kind of suddenly come back after a couple of years which are pretty hard for him to process and deal with.

he needs a lot of reminders about what to do/house rules/where people are/what their routines are, and he often ends up leaving himself notes to tell himself what he was doing because otherwise he'll forget later. he also often will forget that someone left and need to be reassured that it's okay and they're coming back.

[a-deadly-serenade]

so, the newest trailer for the reboot of Twister, "Twisters" dropped yesterday.

on the surface, it's not really something to write home about. classic disaster porn of a movie.

the plot definitely is where i took my first issue. sure, the original 1996 Twister was campy and some of the scenes involving tornadoes were silly, but the main goal of the characters is that they became chasers and scientists to obtain data on the formation of tornadoes to increase the amount of warning time we can give the general public. a noble one, especially since it is still the main goal of meteorologists today nearly 20 years later.

in "Twisters", our main protagonist wants to discover a way to "disrupt" tornadoes. so, my guess is that she and her handsome co-star are going to find a way to stop the Super Mega Crazy tornado that's for sure going to be at the end of the movie. very dumb. and she has a phd? ok.

however, that silliness all but pales in comparison to what i'm actually upset and outright angry about.

during the last 30 seconds or so of the trailer, a tornado is currently hitting and destroying a town. our main characters are fleeing from debris as the storm closes in. the last shot of this scene, focuses on the water tower's supports collapsing under the force of the winds, and for a few seconds, we can read the name of said town being destroyed: El Reno.

El Reno is a relatively small city in Oklahoma, USA. In 2013, the widest tornado ever recorded formed on the outskirts of El Reno. it clocked in at over 2.6 miles wide (~4.2 km) and had the 2nd highest wind speeds measured on Earth at over 291mph (~468km/h).

video: The Storm Chasing Channel

for reference, from the video above, this is the scale of the entire circulation:

the storm thankfully stayed over a fairly rural portion of Oklahoma and therefore, didn't cause nearly as much catastrophic damage it could have. however, this being an impressive storm is not the only reason why this day lives in infamy amongst the weather community.

El Reno's tornado was unique on top of its incredible storm structure. the tornado was rain wrapped, which means that the classic condensation funnel most people associate with tornadoes,

was completely obscured by a dense layer of wind and rain.

photo: Jason Weingart

these types of tornadoes are especially dangerous because you can't see them. in El Reno's case, the storm was such a rain-wrapped mess that no one in the vicinity could really tell just how large it really became. add to that, it took a path that most tornadoes usually do not and did a nearly 360 degree change in direction as it scoured the ground. for a more comprehensive breakdown of that days events, i'd highly recommend watching this Weather Channel's analysis video.

tornadoes this large usually contain multiple vortices, which are the funnels of wind that do most of the catastrophic damage associated with ones like this. these vortices are what led to the death of 3 experienced storm chasers: Tim Samaras, his son, Paul Samaras, and Carl Young.

in total, 8 people died as a result of the El Reno tornado.

now, what puzzles me most about this being a detail in this trailer, let alone in the movie, is why. the original Twister is what got many people my age and older into storm chasing and weather in general. and if you're at all familiar with the history of tornadoes, which i'm more than certain a fair majority of their intended audience is, then they are going to 100% recognize the town on that water tower and what it means to the community.

if this had simply been a crazy, unique storm that went through the open plains, i would have no issue with them putting this little nod to El Reno in. but the fact of the matter is, this tornado took 3 experienced chasers from us and killed 5 other civilians.

i just find it incredibly distasteful and disrespectful. it would be like having them try to stop a tornado from destroying Moore--a town that was impacted by the last rated EF5 in the same year, 2013. people died. you couldn't have made up a town name?

this whole thing has had me in a tizzy since i saw the trailer yesterday and it compelled me to make this thread that is v specific and probably no one will care about... but I CARE!!! what the hell!!! FUCK YOU "TWISTERS"!!!!! BOOOO!!!

[disappointingyet]

Challengers

Director Luca Guadagnino Stars Zendaya, Josh O’Connor, Mike Faist USA/Italy 2024 Language English 2hrs 11mins Colour

More tennis, less bedroom stuff than the buzz suggests

[Minor spoilers for the early part of the film – and if you’ve seen the trailer, that gives away much more than I will]

I wasn’t expecting Challengers to be so much of a sports movie. I mean, I knew it was about tennis, but I was not anticipating, for example, the classic sports pic framing device of most of the plot happening as flashbacks between the action from a crucial match. (To mention just one very un-Luca Guadagnino-like film, For the Love of the Game, the least-loved of Kevin Costner’s baseball movies, does that). 

So there’s plenty of tennis in this film and the production team put in a lot of effort to make that action feel visceral and immediate, some of which works and some of which is very annoying. Towards the end, it’a almost Guy Ritchie-like, that lack of faith that what you are showing is interesting to the audience so you have to gimmick it up.

That match is a final, but it’s the final of a third-rate tournament taking place at a suburban tennis club for which the winner’s cheque is $7,200. The film admirably withholds information about who these people are for a while, but eventually we learn that Art Donaldson (Mike Faist) is big-name player in decline, being pushed towards one final shot at glory by his wife/coach/manager Tashi (Zendaya). His opponent is a down-on-his luck yet still cocky player called Patrick Zweig (Josh O’Connor).

Flashback 13 years and super-tight best buds Art and Patrick are winning the doubles at the Junior US Open and will then play each other in the boys’ singles final. The big star of the tournament, though, is Tashi Duncan, who strolls to victory in the girls’ final. Art and Patrick are aware that junior wins often don’t lead to great adult careers but no one doubts Tashi is destined for greatness. Both Art and Patrick are instantly obsessed with her and she’s at least amused by them…

The hype around this film suggested maybe these three would be a throuple. It’s actually more of a traditional love triangle, although often quite a grumpy one, played out over those 13 years. Oh, there’s something going on between the guys but it’s largely unspoken. In terms of what you see, the film is surprisingly chaste – it’s been widely described as a (ahem) sexy movie but that’s about the vibe between the three leads rather than what they actually do.

But what it is – to a surprising degree – is a three-hander. There are no secondary characters with any plot of their own. I’d guess the person with the most screen time after the leads is the umpire (Darnell Appling*) in the framing match – who is just umpiring and doesn’t even have a character name. There’s a tournament administrator who gets one good scene (Burgess Byrd), an awkward Tinder date, a couple of other players get lines and that’s really it. 

So the film rests entirely on the trio and whether the dynamic between them is convincing. I think it is. I was (maybe unfairly) surprised by how good Josh O’Connor is in this film. I think the only thing I’ve seen him in Emma. and he didn’t make a big impression in that – I instinctively dismissed him as more of the plague of privately educated British actors infesting Hollywood. But his American accent is (as far as I noticed) flawless and somehow the fact that he looks a bit like Jonathan Richman makes the fact that he’s playing this swaggering, spoilt waster a bit more interesting. He's excellent here.

Faist’s role is the less active one – he has to be a bit wet but also a passive schemer, a guy waiting patiently for things to fall his way and giving them a sneaky nudge (probably both as a tennis player and as a person.) 

And Zendaya as Tashi? Firstly, she has to project a ‘this woman walks into the room, everything else stops’ aura. That she can do. She also has to be the tennis obsessive – we’re meant to understand that Tashi is both much more attuned to the business of the sport than the blokes while also being capable of being swept away by the transcendent nature of the game.

And Zendaya’s got maybe the trickiest task of the three because her character – for reasons the film does make clear – has to be the most different between the present-day and flashback portions of the movie. Her best moments certainly come in the flashback. 

When director Luca Guadagnino gives the characters space to talk, Challengers is good verging on really good. The stuff in between I’m less keen on – there’s quite a bit of really tacky slow-mo, for instance. 

And I hated the ending. Not in a ‘I wish there was a different outcome for the one of the characters’ kind of way, just in a ‘this is a really unsatisfactory storytelling option’ way. I had a long discussion with the friend I saw the film with afterwards, and we felt we understood the resolution the film-makers wanted and why it would be tough to achieve it in a different way, but still: to me it falls very flat. 

But up to the final couple of minutes? Challengers is good, definitely something you should see. 

*Not an actor – one of Zendaya’s team 

[wild-karrde]

i just graduated high school and i've always wanted to do aerospace/aeronautical engineering, preferably aeronautical. but now that i'm looking into the syllabus and what i would be doing, i think i was more excited about the learning than the job, and the course is pretty hectic and expensive. i'm from a struggling middle class family and can't afford to lose anything sat this point.

what would you like to say to an incoming student? how difficult is it? what's the actual job experience (google says a lot of stuff)? i understand that not everyone designs aircrafts and spacecrafts in this job, so what are the other possible options out in the market? and is it better to take another kind of engineering (p.s i'm also interested in computer engineering) if i'm not really sure?

i know that's a lot of questions, but it'd be of great help if you replied. hope you have a good day!

Hey anon!

So the aerospace field is SUPER multi-faceted in that it’s not just “show up and design a satellite/rocket/aircraft”. There are jobs at the 30k foot level so to speak (like systems, which is what I do), but if you enjoy a certain specific area (propulsion, thermodynamics, structure, software, etc.) there are also positions that are more “in the weeds” so to speak. It very much depends on what you enjoy, and if you aren’t totally sure yet, that’s ok too! I tried to find a specific subject area all through college and ultimately decided I liked seeing how all the pieces interact together.

As for the coursework, I won’t lie. It was difficult for me. A large part of that was that I’d never really had to study before college, so when I got to coursework I couldn’t memorize/immediately pick up on, I struggled to find which method of study best worked for me. That kind of tanked my self-confidence, and I was stuck in a downward spiral for a while, but eventually figured out what worked and was able to recover (almost wound up graduating with honors!).

If this is something you’re passionate about, I encourage you to go for it. As long as you go in with eyes wide open about the coursework requirements, you can absolutely get this degree. And depending on what school you’re looking at, there are sometimes competitive design teams you can join to help shake your interests loose more (I did the University Nanosat Program competition at my school for all four years).

I hope some of this info is helpful, but also keep in mind that my experiences may vastly differ from yours, and you may very well succeed where I failed and vice versa (and there is nothing wrong with that).

GOOD LUCK!

[lucy90712]

Wearing his clothes/merch (hc)

George:

George had just got some of his new merch in the mail so naturally you decided to steal it and wear it before he can plus its super comfy so why not. Since you put it on you hadn't seen George because he had been busy but when he was done doing whatever it was that he was doing he came into the living room to see you working away on your laptop.

He was kind of tired but as soon as he looked at you a huge smile formed on his face, he loves when you wear his merch or his clothes in general because you just look so cute in his things especially when they are too big for you. His absolute favourite thing is when the sleeves of hoodies are too long and your fingers just barely poke out the end he just finds it so adorable when you are constantly pulling the sleeves up to grab things.

Your laptop is shut when George walks over sitting next to you and pressing multiple kisses all over your face. He did open your laptop back up mainly so you didn't get annoyed with him but you put it down anyway relishing in the attention he was giving you because you often have widely different schedules.

"You look so cute in my merch" he says

"You aren't mad that I took it then" you say

"Not at all it looks better on you anyway" he says

You may have had a little too much fun with him taking pictures of you in his merch as if you were modelling but those pictures would never be used for anything just for him to look back at and possibly tease the merch on stream.

Dream:

Some days it's just so hot that you have to steal one of Clay's t-shirts because it's big on you so it doesn't stick to you in any way. Clay loves those days because he loves seeing you in his shirts because they look better on you than him anyway. Today was even better because you were wearing one of his merch shirts which he wore a few days ago so it smelled like him which is why you were wearing it.

He has had his hands on you all day because he just loves to have you close to him even though it's like 40 degrees outside (this is in Celsius because I don't understand Fahrenheit). The both of you sit outside in the sun taking in its vitamins and with Clay playing with your hair as you lie on his chest, the whole time his eyes are on you just looking at you lying there wearing his shirt being as beautiful as ever without making any effort whatsoever.

Clay for sure takes pictures of you in all of his merch and even posts some of them if he has told the viewers about you because they love you and it means he can gush about you while promoting his merch. Some of his favourite pictures of you are in his merch when you both had an impromptu photo shoot when the new merch arrived, it was such a fun day because he kept telling you to stand in different ways and in different places.

Sapnap:

You often spend the day with sapnap and then more often that not you stay the night but every time you never bring anything to sleep in but sapnap is more than happy with that because then he can give you his clothes to wear. Seeing you in his hoodie or t-shirt makes him so happy because it shows that your his and he's very protective so anything to show that your his is great.

One night you did bring things to sleep in but you didn't wear them because Sapnap wouldn't let you wear them because some of his favourite times with you are cuddled up in bed when you are wearing his clothes so there was no way he was going to miss out on that just because you remembered to bring clothes with you.

He gives you one of his shirts and a pair of his sweatpants which are way too big on you but they are comfy and he says they look cute so that's why you wear them. As you walk round with them on he will come over and put his hands in the pockets of the sweatpants or in the pouch of the hoodie and just have his arms around you taking in the fact that you're all his.

When you two actually go to bed he will lie half on top of you making sure you are fully protect form whatever he thinks will happen during the night. It can be kind of uncomfortable but its nice having him there to cuddle with and keep you warm during the winter because that man is like a heater at all times.

Quackity:

When he's not streaming his beanies are yours and there is no argument about it, you often hate the way your hair looks and his beanies are the best thing to cover it. Sometimes you two argue about who is going to wear his beanie because he usually wears one incase he gets recognised but you always win the argument because ultimately he likes looking at you in his beanie so you get to wear it while he wears a hat.

Sometimes you go out both wearing beanies and even matching ones being the cute couple that you really aren't if anything you two are a bit more chaotic but that is about the only moment you two are cute. The viewers love your vibes together because there is literally no difference as to how you act on stream or in real life when people meet you.

You two stream together quite a bit even before you told the viewers because you act the exact same as a couple as you did as friends but when you do stream together you both wear a beanie, each stream comes with about a million clips and screenshots of the both of you matching. It never occurs to you or Alex that people like when you match because it happens a lot just in everyday life so you think nothing of it but you are always reminded when you don't have a beanie on and people are shocked.

Karl:

All of his clothes are yours too, he loves seeing you wear his clothes just on an everyday basis. Sometimes you will wear one of his t-shirts or his button ups over something to make an outfit and he just loves that because you always look so good and sometimes even better. On occasion you two will wear similar outfits and then Karl has to bring you out so that people can appreciate how amazing you look. He would just have to post pictures either on Instagram or on his second twitter of you both just being amazing because who wouldn't.

Of all the times you wear his clothes chill days where you have on one of his hoodies are his favourites. He always thinks you look so cute and comfortable in his hoodie which may be too big but who can complain when you have the hood up and it over your hands and you look so snug. He likes to cuddle with you because even if he isn't wearing comfy clothes he feels so much more comfortable just laying with you and snuggling his head into your chest.

Wilbur:

He practically gives you his clothes if he wants you to wear them but he does it subtly by leaving them in a place that's convenient for you or quite literally putting them in your wardrobe. He has been known to carry a hoodie around with him just incase you get cold so he can give it to you. You always laugh to yourself when you notice these things because you find it sweet that he would do all of this to get you to wear his clothes and of course you do it because you got to reward his efforts.

When you do wear his clothes he gets all shy and blushy even though he is the one that instigated it but it also makes him super happy that you will go out in his things without a care in the world. It’s even better when he gets to be with you because then its even more obvious that you have his clothes on and he likes that although people give you looks they know they don’t have a chance because you’re his.

In the winter you both share his beanies as well because why buy your own when he has so many. Beanies is the one thing he will tease you about wearing and will move them around on your head even pulling them down over your eyes just for fun but he really does it because he can’t handle the cuteness of you wearing his beanie all the time.  

[wandaromanova]

Lost

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Warnings: mentions of cancer, death, cussing

A/N: hello! i’d like to put a disclaimer that i am not in any way knowledgeable of the medical field and all of the terminology and information used in this fic was found through research! happy reading <3

anon requested: hiiiii !! can i request like an angst into fluff natxfem!reader one shot where the reader has a really bad day and takes it out on nat and hurts her feelings and so they go to bed angry. but the reader realizes their mistake and the next morning just wakes her up by showering her with love and then takes the whole day to do cute little date things with her? like making her favorite meal or like dancing in the kitchen to their favorite song late at night or just super fluffy things? if not, that’s okay!! have a good day <3

Summary: The heavy weight of her profession gets to Y/N and she takes her anger out on her loving girlfriend; Natasha Romanoff.

Word Count: 3K | navigation

please do not repost or try and take ownership of my work. reblogs, likes, and comments are always welcome. <3

Becoming a doctor was no easy feat.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Once high school is completed, one must receive your bachelor’s degree before taking the MCAT exam and applying to medical school. After four years of medical school, you must endure a year as an intern before being promoted to a resident. 

Depending on what specialty one has selected, residency can span from three to seven years. Fellowships follow after but are typically an optional course that provides extra training. 

Yes, there are a lot of necessary steps to take in order to set foot into the medical world, but somehow, the years of foreplay could never compare to being a full-fledged physician; and you knew this all too well.

You are a pediatric oncologist and your job was to diagnose and provide treatment to children and teenagers who had cancer. You specialized in hematology; the treatment of blood disorders.

You were the head of pediatric oncology in a Manhattan hospital. You dealt with a lot of patients, but a two-year-old little girl named Sarah was secretly your favorite. 

Despite being diagnosed with acute myeloid leukemia, Sarah’s positivity and playful personality never faltered.

Even if she didn’t understand the circumstances because of her young age, you knew she was suffering. Regardless of it all, every session you had with her was endearing.

You met with the child once a week to administer chemotherapy. Her enthusiasm never failed to have you awestruck. Most of your patients were exhausted from the treatments, but not Sarah. 

She was a hyper child who would attempt to sing Frozen songs, performing as you tried to fight a smile from taking over your features. She had a stuffed Olaf doll that she brought with her to every visit and it was heartwarming to see her hug the doll close to her chest. 

Sarah would even bring you drawings every week that you would keep in your locker. You’d admire each and every one of the drawings, even if you couldn’t really tell what they were.

You’d grown fond of the little girl in the past two months you had been treating her. You were also relatively close to her parents, who were probably the kindest people you’ve ever encountered. It made sense that Sarah was the ball of sunshine she was, she obviously got it from her parents.

Most times, parents were on edge and extremely short-tempered. If parents saw you often, that meant that their child was diagnosed with some form of cancer. Understandably, they would be rather hostile whilst interacting with you, but you never took their behavior personally. 

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

If you were in their shoes, you were positive that you wouldn’t be very friendly either. 

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

You had grown fond of the beaming child. You were aware that growing emotionally attached to patients was unprofessional, but how could you not? 

You adored children and for that very reason, you had chosen a specialty that allowed you to help kids as much as medicine would allow. You always had a soft spot for kids and you found joy in helping them as best as you possibly could.

Sarah had a very good chance at pulling through. With consistent treatment and her young age, her survival rate was around 68%. Those were considerably good odds in these circumstances. Not to mention, the chemotherapy seemed to be paying off. At the rate she was improving, she was predicted to be out of the woods soon enough.

However, the child had developed a bacterial infection. Since she had been receiving chemotherapy, the treatment had damaged her white blood cells which are responsible for fighting off infections. 

All you could do was provide antibiotics to try and fight off the infection. You had monitored her for some time in hopes of seeing any sign of improvement, but unfortunately, it wasn’t enough. Her immune system was extremely vulnerable and there wasn’t any way to reverse the damage. 

Your heart was torn to pieces when you delivered the news to her parents. They broke down in the hallway outside of Sarah’s room as you informed them of Sarah’s rapidly shortened life expectancy. It was only a matter of time before the young child would pass and honestly, this was what you hated most about your job.

You hated that you couldn’t help every single patient. You hated how cruel the world could be to take away an innocent child from their loving parents. 

You allowed her parents to spend time by her bedside. They laid on either side of her bed, clinging onto her for dear life. What broke you the most was the paleness of Sarah’s once glowing skin. Her smile was still present but didn’t quite reach her eyes like it used to. 

Her parents quietly sang ‘Love Is An Open Door’ to Sarah. You felt your heart clench in a bittersweet way as you silently watched. Normally, Sarah wouldn’t hesitate to join in, but her lack of breath prevented her from doing so. All she could do was close her eyes and lightly nod her head along to their voices. 

Sarah passed hours later and it was an extremely somber experience. Hearing the cries of parents who lost their children wasn’t easy and it never would be. Your job had its pros and cons, and this was the biggest negative.

You fought back your own tears as you exited the room, giving the two mourning parents some privacy after you recorded Sarah’s time of death. You found the nearest restroom and allowed the tears to fall down your face. 

A pure soul had been ripped away from the world, never having the chance to experience the great things life had to offer.

•❅──────────────── ‎⧗ ────────────────❅•

4 Hours Later

You trudged into your loft, immediately taking off your coat and hanging it up before tossing your keys on the small table by the front door. 

Your girlfriend, Natasha, had heard your arrival and quickly exited the bedroom to greet you, a wide smile on her face. However, her smile fell when she noticed your defeated state. 

Your shoulders were slumped as you slouched slightly and your eyes were dripping with sadness. 

“Honey? What’s wrong?” Natasha approached you while you stood frozen in front of the door. Her hands came up to cup your cheeks as she stared at you in concern, her eyes scanning over your features. 

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“I lost Sarah.” 

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Natasha’s eyes widened and her heart sunk at your words. She was aware of how much you adored the two-year-old. Once a week, you would rave about the child and how adorable she was at the dinner table. You would go on and on about how Sarah would sing to you, draw pictures for you, and bring along stickers to place onto your coat.

The redhead loved how happy you looked whenever you spoke about any of your patients, but most especially Sarah. It brought Natasha some joy of her own to see you speak animatedly about Sarah; your happiness was her happiness. 

So, the news hurt her almost as much as it hurt her. She knew how much you loved Sarah, despite never saying it straight out.

“Oh my god. I’m so sorry. I know how much you cared about her. Are you okay?” Natasha’s voice was oozing with sympathy. You couldn’t help but feel irritated by her question. 

You tore her hands off of your cheeks and walked past her and into the kitchen, pouring yourself a glass of water as the redhead watched you intently. 

“Am I okay? I’m fine! It’s not like I lost an extremely young patient today or anything. What kind of stupid fucking question is that, Natasha?” You took a sip of cold water to try and calm yourself damn, but your attempt was futile. 

The redhead made her way into the kitchen, standing on the opposite side of the island as you took another sip of water, eyes burning a hole into her head over the rim of the glass. 

“I know, that was a dumb question. I just want to help you, Y/N/N.” Natasha remained calm and patient as she spoke to you. She was no stranger to the loss of a person she desperately tried to save and knew all too well the sadness and anger that accompanied the tragedy. She was an Avenger, after all. 

“I don’t want your help and I don’t need you!” You slammed your cup onto the counter as you raised your voice. Honestly, it was surprising that you hadn’t shattered the glass with the amount of force you exerted. 

Natasha felt an ache in her chest as you yelled at her. She knew that you weren’t in the right state of mind and didn’t take it personally, but that didn’t make your words hurt any less. 

“You save entire cities and I can’t even save a single fucking person!” You were turning red at this point, tears of frustration streaming down your face. The redhead hated seeing you cry, but she knew better than to approach you at this moment. 

“Babe, you save so many pe-” Natasha’s tried to speak, but you quickly interjected. 

“If you’re going to try and spew some philosophical bullshit to me right now, I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want to hear another god damn word from your mouth.”

The redhead looked down defeatedly. She had never seen you so upset, let alone direct your frustrations towards her. Her eyes fell down to the marble counter between you both before looking up at you. You were breathing heavily, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you tried to catch your breath. 

Without another word, Natasha retreated back to the bedroom, shutting the door softly behind her. You watched her until she was out of your view and let out a sigh. Your hands gripped the edges of the kitchen island, supporting your weight as you shut your eyes. 

You brought a hand up to your face and pinched the bridge of your nose. After a few minutes, you made your way into the living room, chucking off your shoes before collapsing onto the couch. You didn’t feel like interacting with Natasha anymore tonight, knowing that you most likely wouldn’t be able to control your temper. 

You were just so fed up with the painful losses you had to endure from your profession. 

You knew that being a doctor was more dark clouds and thunder, than sunshine and rainbows, but you just wished that for once, the weather forecast would work in your favor. 

The emotional day had finally caught up to you. Your body relaxed as you sunk further into the couch, eyes fluttering shut as you succumbed to a much-needed slumber. 

Unbeknownst to you, Natasha was still awake. She laid flat on her back and stared up at the ceiling in thought. She was mad at you, as much as she didn’t want to be. Natasha had gone through the same thing and never lost her cool with you as you had with her. 

The redhead calmed down slowly, turning on her side and facing the empty space beside her which you normally occupied. She reached one arm out, her skin colliding with cool sheets, already missing the warmth of your body. 

Natasha hated sleeping without you by her side, She didn’t feel complete when you weren’t steadily sleeping next to her, your arms wrapped around her body. However, she hoped that things would improve in the morning.

And with that thought in mind, she drifted off into a dreamless sleep, clutching the sheets firmly in her hand. 

•❅──────────────── ‎⧗ ────────────────❅•

 The Next Morning

You awoke to a blinding light, the morning sun shining through the windows and landing directly onto your face. You let out a groan and slowly sat up, stretching out your limbs with a groan. The couch wasn’t the most comfortable place to sleep, you were aching everywhere. 

You sat there for a moment as the events of the day before caught up to you. Not only had you lost Sarah, but you upset Natasha. You immediately felt guilty as you recalled the harsh words you spat at her in a fit of rage. You felt like a complete asshole, and rightfully so. 

You quickly stood up and entered the kitchen, retrieving some bacon from the freezer and eggs from the refrigerator. You grabbed two separate pans and washed your hands, making sure to get the coffee pot running before you began cooking.

Your girlfriend absolutely loved bacon, eggs, and coffee. She described the combinations as a ‘party in her mouth.’ So, this was going to be an ‘i’m sorry for being a bitch last night’ apology breakfast. 

You got started on the meal and by the time you finished up and had the stove off, Natasha stalked out of the bedroom slowly. She eyed you carefully as she approached, you sent a soft smile her way.

“You made breakfast,” Natasha spoke and you shyly nodded your head. You moved away from the stove and rounded the counter. The redhead stood in her spot as you wrapped your arms around her waist, her arms reflexively going around your neck.

“I was an asshole last night.” You stated and your girlfriend nodded her head in agreement. “Yeah, you were a total pain in the ass, the absolute worst.” You rolled your eyes at Natasha’s teasing tone.

“I’m sorry for how I behaved. I was just so upset about… Sarah. I didn’t mean to take it out on you and I can’t even begin to tell you how bad I feel for yelling at you when all you wanted to do was help me.”

Your voice was full of emotion, your eyes boring into her emerald irises as you poured your heart into every syllable you uttered. Natasha smile gently at you, her fingers lightly tugging on the baby hairs on the nape of your neck. 

“It’s okay. I know you weren’t mad at me.” You let out a sigh of relief as the redhead stared at you softly. She let out a small chuckle at your dramatics before continuing.

‘I understand how you feel. The team and I, we try our very best to save as many civilians as we can, but sometimes it’s completely out of our control. It’s the exact same situation.” 

One of Natasha’s hands found its way to your cheek, gently cupping the skin as you leaned into her touch. You were listening intently to her every word, mesmerized by the calming rasp of her voice.

“Don’t dwell on what you couldn’t do, but give yourself some credit for everything you did do. I may not know what happened, but what I do know is that you tried everything you could, no?”

Natasha questioned you and you nodded your head. “I gave her antibiotics to fight the infection, but it was too severe.” The redhead rubbed her thumb against your cheek. 

“All that matters is that you did your best and that’s all anyone could ever ask for.” Natasha ended her little speech as she placed a soft kiss on the tip of your nose. You couldn’t help but smile, an overwhelming feeling of happiness taking over. 

“Thank you. I love you and your… what was it?” You furrowed your eyebrows in concentration before your face lit up. Natasha raised an eyebrow at you. “Philosophical bullshit. That was the words.” The Russian let out a laugh, shaking her head from side to side at your antics. 

“Seriously though, I’m so grateful for you. You’re so amazing to me even when I don’t deserve it. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” Natasha’s laughter died down as your tone turned serious. Your eyes were so full of love and adoration as you stared into her eyes deeply. 

“Well, let’s hope you never have to find out.” Natasha smiled once more and you couldn’t resist pressing your lips against her plump ones. Your mouths moved in tandem at a slow pace, enjoying the rawness and love that accompanied each movement. 

You broke the kiss when air became an issue. Nat’s eyes fluttered open as you wiggled your eyebrows at her playfully. 

“So, are you ready for some breakfast? Maybe after we eat, we can go on top of a rooftop and I’ll serenade you with a rendition of ‘Sorry’ by Justin Bieber.”

Natasha’s head flew back as she laughed uncontrollably at your words. “What? Do you not like the Biebs? If you want, I could play ‘Baby Come Back’ by Player from a boombox and hold it over my head, instead.” The redhead continued to laugh profusely and you soon joined in. Your arms tightened around her waist as your giggles subsided. 

“I think cuddling on the couch and watching the Kardashians eating ridiculously large bowls of salad will do.” You nodded your head in agreement but didn’t make a move to release Natasha from your grip. She didn’t let go either. 

The two of you just stood there, basking in each other’s embrace, a comfortable silence falling over you both. 

Natasha never failed to say the right things to pull you out of the dark abyss that was your mind. She was completely right, as always. There would always be bad days, patients who were progressing one day and deteriorating the next. 

However, there were also good days, and you shouldn’t allow the bad to overshadow all the good you’ve done. Like with Natasha, she wasn’t always the superhero she is today. She took her dark past and turned it into a bright future. 

Nat didn’t let her bad days define her and neither should you.

Of course, you would always remember every single patient you had lost, but now, you would take the pain and turn it into motivation; motivation to improve yourself, not only in your professional life but in your personal life as well. 

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

You would do right by the ones you’ve lost and the one who stuck by your side; Natasha Romanoff. 

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

───────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────────

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Coughing in the Bathroom (Eyeless Jack X F!Reader)

🌸 Coughing in the Bathroom

[Eyeless Jack X F!Reader]

[Warnings: Slight blood, slight language, slight alcohol, emotional cheating]

Part 2

        In the world you live in, there’s a terrible thing called ‘Hanahaki Disease,’ and while it is ultimately rare, it is still feared widely throughout the globe. Love is an emotional virtually everyone feels, and it is through that monetary softness that the disease may take root. It affects those whose love is unrequited. 

        Five years ago, you never thought you would be under its spell. 

        The first time you met Eyeless Jack was a mess of combined hot headedness and a ‘my horse is bigger than yours’ type of deal. He was so brash and such a know it all! How could you NOT butt heads with him? The two of you spawned a little rivalry, and that rivalry grew to love. 

        How could you not fall in love with him? He’d been everything you’d ever wanted, and in your line of work, that’s hard to find. You’re what’s known as an ‘independent,’ someone who does not work directly under the Slender Man, but often crosses paths with him due to common goals and your abilities. While there is nothing inherently supernatural or otherworldly about you, you do have the gift of clairvoyance. Your clairvoyance isn’t super special, as you’re only prone to glimpses of the future based on current actions and what might (you are the world’s greatest predictor). 

        Jack IS supernatural. He’s not human, calls himself ‘a demon of some sorts.

         The Slender Man saw potential in the two of you from your rivalry and decided to put the two of you together. It was that proximity that led him to falling helplessly, hopelessly, and ardently in love with you. 

        You never saw that coming. 

        Jack had told you he loved you when the two of you had just finished some of the grossest work you’ve done to date. He didn’t want to go back to the safe house the two of you had been holed up in with various other independents and instead urged you to hang out on the roof with him. 

        “Why are you rummaging through their fridge?” You asked, hands resting on your hips with a smile on your lips. 

        “Beer?” He finally asked as he poked his head out from the door. 

        You suppressed a chuckle and threw caution for the night to the wind. “Yeah, sounds good.” 

        With that, Jack tossed you a bottle, before snatching one for himself. Normally, he doesn’t drink, but he felt as if he needed the liquid courage to face you. He felt like he was being obvious with his intentions, but you’d managed to miss every gesture and hint he threw up to this point. If you’re anything like he is, you’re dense. 

        The two of you walked upwards and opened the door to the roof and were greeted by the lights of the city. The two of you don’t spend much time in people cluttered areas, but when you do, you always spend a moment together. He took a seat next to you on one of the lawn chairs hanging around and cracked the drink open, practically gulping it down. 

        “Are you thirsty?” You chuckled before opening your own. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you down one like that before,” you noted before taking a much smaller sip yourself. 

        Jack shifted uncomfortably for a moment as he took the bottle from his lips. It’s not that he was uncomfortable with you, but he was uncomfortable with the possibility that if you didn’t feel the same way, he could be subjected to the disease that’s claimed the lives of some damn good proxies and independents who fell in love with humans they never had a chance with. He hates getting sick, but he doesn’t think he can handle a broken heart and lungs full of flowers. 

        “No I-,” he took a deep breath. “Reader, I think you’re great.”

        You laughed slightly. “I think you’re great too.”

        Jack shook his head and took another swig before he attempted to speak again. “Not like that, it’s… I’m bad with words,” he sighed, feeling overwhelmed. The man isn’t used to speaking about his feelings. 

        You raised a brow. You know Jack, your Jack, to be someone concise, clear and to the point. He’s not one to fumble over his words. He’s not one to get bashful. You know where this is going, you can see it in your mind’s eye, but you won’t say it because a part of you enjoyed his aversion. “Right now you totally suck at speaking,” you lightly joked, which made him crack the tiniest smile. 

        That’s when he shot you a look. “You already know what I’m trying to say, don’t you?” He deadpanned, eyes narrowed at you slightly in accusation. 

        You let out a laugh and nodded, hand up in submission, “I did,” you giggled. 

        “I swear,” Jack breathed out as he tossed his bottle to the stone floor before he snatched yours and repeated the action. Before you could be surprised, he took you in his arms, his lips pressed to yours in a kiss full of everything he just couldn’t say. 

        Your arms wrapped around him, pleased that he had gotten to the point. 

        Jack has always made your heart flutter. He’s charming, but in his own way. Even though you have future vision to some varying degree, he has never failed to surprise you. For your first anniversary, he had brought you to the most beautiful flower field you’d ever seen. 

        “Have you always known that this was here?” You asked, eyes shining over the field full of lavender, sunflowers, poppies and other wildflowers. The scent rivaled that of the Slender Man’s garden. 

        “I spent the past year cultivating it,” he said as he wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, his head resting on top of yours. “Thought you’d appreciate it.” 

        “And I’m guessing you built the gazebo too?”

        “Had some help from the proxies. Hoodie is surprisingly good at craftsmanship,” he said with a small chuckle. Jack pressed kisses to the crown of your head. 

        You allow him to sway you as you listen to the birds sing from the surrounding trees. “Is this what you were up to?” You asked. 

        Jack breathed out and shrugged. “A magician never reveals his secrets,” he teased.

        You turned around in his grasp and wrapped your arms around his shoulders, hands loosely connected ‘round the back of his neck. “You suck,” you teased, sticking your tongue out before you pressed a kiss to his nose. 

        Jack laughed, his smile rivaling the warmth of the sun. “Thought that was your job,” he mused, making you gasp and smack his chest. He laughed again before you dropped the feigned annoyed attitude and joined him. 

        The rest of your anniversary was held under that gazebo, talking well into the night. 

        When the nights were hard and you were bruised from jobs that were rough, he was always there to pick you back up. You’d come back to the Slender Man’s mansion in need of minor medical attention and had only come to his home because it was close to where you’d gotten banged up. 

        “You can just wait in the waiting room,” a female proxy said as her green eyes scanned you over with little concern. She gestured for you to head down the hall to your left. “You won’t miss it.” It seemed your injuries paled in comparison to the gunshots, knife wounds, musical instruments to the skull and other more hefty injuries. 

        You thanked her with a small smile and then walked down the hall. You’d never really spent extended time in the Slender Man’s mansion; you had no reason to. You didn’t serve directly under him. Still, it was nice to be in something regal looking rather than a dirty field house wondering if the first aid kid was even usable or not. 

        You took a seat once you finally reached the waiting room, displeased to see that there were so many other people - mostly proxies - waiting for service. Some of them looked on the verge of passing out due to blood loss. How had no one attended to them yet? You waited and waited, watching as the more in danger patients were taken in before you finally nodded off. Your dreams were for the most part, empty, but your vision showed you that Jack was here, working. That thought alone was enough to wake you back up. 

        When your eyes reopened, you were overcome with emotions to see Jack in the doorway waiting for you to get up and follow him to the back. You scrambled up from your seat, mindful of not outwardly showing you were in a relationship (the Slender Man detested such bonds) and tried your best to remain cool and level headed. 

        Jack, who wore his mask, showed no signs he had any business with you until he brought you into a secluded room where he could attend to your injuries. The moment the door closed, he took off his mask and looked you over, worry lined on his face. “What’s wrong? Is it serious? O should have seen you sooner. Are you hurt-”

        “Woah, woah,” you tiredly chuckled as you took his rapidly moving hands into yours. “It’s just minor bruises and cuts. Just wanna get them disinfected. I might’ve also sprained my wrist,” you sheepishly admitted. 

        Jack’s face fell again. “Jeeze, I should have seen you earlier,” he muttered to himself, moving around the room to get the supplies he needed. He slapped on his medical gloves again, and then got to work, leaving no part of you untouched. When it stung, he hushed you with words of love. “How did this happen?” He asked quietly. 

        “Alcoholic guy had way more power than I originally expected,” you winced. “I saw the possibility of him throwing me, but not him almost tearing off my wrist by slamming it in a door.” 

        “He what?” Jack growled. 

        “He’s dead now, don’t worry,” you said before you flashed Jack a reassuring look. 

        Jack seemed barely placated by your words and continued working. 

        When he finished working, he pressed a kiss to your forehead and gave you a look that told you he didn’t want you to leave. 

        “I have to,” you said as you allowed him to snake his arms around you. “I’ll be seeing you soon though, right?” 

        “I’m gonna be stuck in this area for a while,” he mumbled into your shoulder. “And you? You’re leaving Alabama right?” 

        You hesitantly nodded and sighed into him before you took in his scent that instantly calmed you. “Yeah, unfortunately. I have some work calling me out east,” you continued as he tensed in your arms. “Besides, I’m getting the vibe that if I stay much longer, the Slender Man is gonna be pissed at us.” 

        If Jack had eyes, he’d roll them. “I don’t care what he wants or likes,” he replied. That’s not entirely true, but love does weird things to people. “Stay a moment longer.” 

        You did. 

        There were times in your five year relationship that the two of you were split up for extended periods of time mostly on the whims and requests of the Slender Man. Those times you were apart were hard. And unfortunately, the two of you couldn’t actually text or call. Phones, electronics in general, were considered liabilities for people like you due to tracking and everything else. It just wasn’t safe, and BEN can only do so much. 

        Instead, the two of you would write letters to each other and enlist the help of Jeffery’s dog, Smile. Of course, the dog doesn’t always enjoy playing mail-dog, but he does enjoy the treats and favors he gets from the two of you. 

        The fifth year of your relationship with him had been a particularly long, hard separation due to distance. The two of you traded letters weekly via Smile. Everything from little anecdotes to how much you missed each other was shared between them until you got a letter that was calm before the storm. 

        ‘Dear Reader, how have you been? I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to write back to you, but Slender has put me on a really weird task. It’s time consuming as all hell and I kinda hate it. I’ve been placed with the proxies for a little while, and they all say ‘hi’ and hope you’re well as much as I do. … I love you, J.’ Of course, interspersed in the letter was a whole treasure trove of everything Jack had been up to. 

        ‘Dear Jack, I’m glad to hear you’re doing alright. I’ve been lighting up the Midwest's farm fields - I don’t know why (I do have my inklings), but the proxies I’m currently with get it. They’re a nice bunch, but the one with a pig mask is kinda mean? Maybe you’ll have to fight him or something. There’s also talk of us converting some people to the proxy side, which is weird because it’s not my territory, but I’ll do what’s asked of me. What’s the task you’re currently up to? I love you, R.’ 

        It had been a few weeks since you got the next letter, and that letter was the beginning of your end. You just didn’t know it yet, and you purposely blinded your future vision to it. 

        ‘Dear Reader, I’m so sorry it took so long to get this letter back to you! I hope I didn’t worry you, but things have once again been really, really busy. In truth, I’m not supposed to tell you about this, but as long as he doesn’t find out… I can trust you with this, but you need to promise you won’t tell anyone else? I suppose it doesn’t matter because the whole of our society is going to be talking about it regardless. We’ve never seen something like this before. Zalgo (may his name burn for all eternity) had a kid, right? They call her Leia and she’s been causing a storm of issues for the tall man. We got a hold of her and she’s been under our watch since. She’s powerful, I’ll give her that. In a way, it’s admirable, but she’s also Slender’s biggest threat. The weirdest thing? She willingly gave herself up to us because she’s got daddy issues. Can you believe that? Zalgo’s favorite kid has daddy issues. She’s naturally murderous towards proxies so Masky, Toby, Hoodie and Kate have to be extra mindful of her. For the most part, she’s with me. We talk a lot, but I have no idea if I can trust her. She’s a great conversationalist though - nothing like her father. She doesn’t look anything like him either (you have seen his human form, right?) In fact, nothing about her screams spawn of Zalgo. She looks… normal, if that’s the right word. Other than that, her attitude reminds me of you. Funny, right? She asks about you every now and then, which is odd because I try not to mention you unless it’s with Hoodie. Hoodie says hi, by extension. She seems to not like you despite having never met you, which is also incredibly strange as she’s been nothing but kind to me and the proxies (despite her trying to kill them when her instincts take over). I digress, and I miss you. I love you, J.’ 

        You’d read that letter over so many times poking and prodding it. The energy didn’t feel right, and your mind had shown you glimpses of what was to come. But of course, still in love with him, you acted like nothing was wrong and the future you had seen wasn’t absolute. 

        The first time you met Leia was largely an accident. A short while after you’d gotten that letter from Jack, you ‘swung by’ the area he was in and decided on a surprise visit. You knew Masky well enough, and the proxy had never been angry with you for visiting prior to. What difference would this one have been?

        You knocked on the door in a way that only Masky would recognize to be greeted by the unmasked proxy. 

        “You’re here for him, aren’t you?” He asked, a tired smile coming onto his lips. 

        You nodded excitedly. “Where is he?” 

        “Back room, with uh-”

        “She already knows,” both Hoodie and Kate said in unison as they barely spared a glance over their shoulders from the terrible movie playing on Lifetime. 

        Masky shot a slight glare towards his teammates but relented and moved aside in the doorway. “Have fun,” he said as you stepped inside. “Don’t do anything stupid and if you do, do so quietly?” 

        You slapped Masky’s shoulder and walked down the hall. You took a brief moment to wave to Toby who was reading something in one of the rooms before you reached the end where you heard laughter. To be polite, you knocked on the door, and to your surprise, it was not Jack who answered the door. 

        There she stood with long silver hair and the most alluring blue eyes you’d ever seen, her skin as warm as the cinnamon that floated on top of hot chocolate in the winter. She gave you a sickly saccharine smile before she turned her head over her shoulder to address Jack, “Reader is here,” she giggled. 

        You bit back a grimace but smiled when Jack got up and gently moved Leia aside in the doorframe to greet you. 

        “It’s so good to see you,” he said as he took you into his arms before he crushed you in his grip. “How have you been?” He whispered in your ear before he peppered your face with kisses. 

        You wished you could have enjoyed the moment as you laughed in his arms, but your eyes fluttered open for just a moment to see Leia’s unamused expression. “I’m okay,” you replied in a tone lacking the enthusiasm Jack expected to hear. 

        “Are you sure?” He asked as he checked you over to ensure you physical self was safe. His hands cupped your cheeks as you were forced to look up at him. 

        “Of course,” you replied in an attempt to play it cool. 

        “If you say so,” he trailed off before taking your hand in his and leading you to sit next to him on the bed. 

        From there, the world’s most awkward conversation took place between Jack and Leia with you attempting to cut in every once and a while. You saw it in little glimpses. 

        Her eyes never left his sockets, and he allowed it. 

        When her hand touched his knee, he made no motion to move it. 

        When she laughed, he smiled in a way that only you had been used to seeing. 

        He talked with her with so many inside jokes, you felt as if you were just peeking in on someone else’s conversation, not one you were invited to.

        Gradually, through the hour, he’d moved closer to her than he had you. While his arm remained loosely wrapped around your waist, he’d leaned forward to hear her better. He watched her interaction first after he shared a story. His focus was on her. You’d left his field of vision. 

        A few weeks into your fifth year was all it took. 

        Things did not get any easier from there. Eventually, you were moved to helping the group in regards to Leia. According to Slender, it was to ‘protect her’ from her father and her now murderous siblings. That’s when the rift grew wider, and the roots took hold. 

        See, after that first in person interaction with Leia, you’d felt a scratchiness in your lungs. At first, you chalked it up to being under the weather, but after being moved to Masky’s group, you knew nothing would ever be the same. Your worst fear had come true, and all it took was a pair of blue eyes. 

        Physically, Jack was still yours. He’d hold you, kiss you and touch you like you were still his. He never physically left your side, nor did his flesh betray your relationship. No, it was something much deeper than that that brought about the sprouts that took hold in your lungs. 

        Emotionally, he’d left you the moment he laid sockets on her. Why did he give in so easily? Who knows - boredom? A premature seven year itch? You’re not sure. But you saw it - you saw his heart leave the space it once shared with you and take up residence with hers, and it was painful. So, so painful. 

        He looked at her like she owned the moon and commanded the tides. 

        He smiled at her in a way he used to smile with you. 

        He spoke to her in a tone so gentle, you assumed he’d only used it for you. 

        He spoke with you less frequently, and when he did, it was much shorter and to the point. Whenever you prodded him, he had chalked it up to being stressed and that of course, he still loved you. 

        “You’re just being paranoid.” 

        He told her things you’d never even scratched the surface of. 

        She viewed him as hers. 

        And he allowed it without leaving the safety net that was you. 

        Of course, this did not go unnoticed by the proxies. None of them wanted to get directly involved though. 

        Hoodie was amongst the most disturbed as he was usually the first to call out Jack’s bullshit and the first proxy to inquire about you and your wellbeing. Despite not spending any time with you, Hoodie viewed you as a good friend. 

        "You realize what you're doing isn't cool, right?" Hoodie said as he walked back to the temp house with Jack. 

        "I'm not doing anything," Jack replied. "This about Leia?"

        "No, it's about Pennywise we met last year - of course it's about Leia," Hoodie hissed as he rolled his eyes. "You're digging a hole you won't be able to get back out of. You know that, right?"

        Jack lightly shoved Hoodie's shoulder in response. He was uncomfortable with what Hoodie had insinuated, mostly because Hoodie's BS meter is never far off the mark and normally strikes true. But when he entered that house and saw Leia sitting at the table, he couldn't help but take his place at her side. 

        Perhaps Kate just believes in girl code, but as a fellow being under the Slender Man’s control, she’s got her eye out for you. She believed wholeheartedly that what Jack was doing was scummy, but of course, her focus is on you. It came in mugs of hot chocolate and late night living room talks. She cares, just quietly. 

        "Don't overwork yourself, okay?" She said softly as she draped a blanket around your shoulders. 

        You'd been nodding off much more in the living room than in the room you shared with Jack. "What?" You said sleepily. 

        Kate chuckled softly and let you rest your head on her lap. "Turn your brain off for a while with me and let's watch this gods awful movie." Anything to get your mind off of what's going on and if this movie does it for you, that's good enough for the moment. 

        "Yes, ma'am," you tiredly rib, a smile on your lips. 

        Toby is inexperienced when it comes to these things. He was the first person to find you hacking up forget-me-nots. That was a scary experience as he’s never seen the Hanahaki before. He’s too young and too inexperienced, where would he have seen it? 

        He can distinctly remember walking with you, patrolling the area for threats when you suddenly stopped. It’d been a few months of you in his group's care, and he’d seen you retreat into yourself the longer Jack spent time with Leia. He knew it, just didn’t know how to go about it. 

        “What’s w-w-wrong?” He asked. 

        You waved for him to go on. “I’m fine-” you tried to wheeze out before you began violently coughing. 

        Toby initially thought you were going through what Masky did. He’s handled that before and naively thought he could help you until he rushed to your side to see the small forming pile of blue flowers covered sparsely in drops of blood. “Oh n-n-no,” he whispered as he knelt at your side. He held you like you were glass. “R-Reader-”

        “I said I’m fine!” You tried to reason before coughing once more, this time more blood than cursed flower. 

        “Does t-t-this look f-f-fine to you?” He asked in stress and worry. “We n-need to t-t-tell M-Masky or J-Ja-”

        “No,” you coldly cut off as you wiped your mouth of the blood that dribbled down your chin. 

        Toby wanted to fight that notion badly, but instead focused on getting you back safe. “I-I’ll tell M-Masky we s-saw some n-n-not deer on t-the p-property,” he murmured as he carefully picked you back up. 

        You allowed him. 

        Masky knew the moment you walked back into the temp house with Toby holding you as inconspicuous as he could. It’s unfortunate, he thinks, because he knows what that’s like - to love someone and physically suffer because of it. 

        One day, he’d sent everyone out of the house except for you and urged you to sit down and have some apple cider with him to ‘celebrate’ his favorite season, fall. 

        “Let’s not beat around the bush,” he began. “You’ve got it.”

        You shifted uncomfortably and averted your gaze from his and chose to look into your apple cider than his eyes. “What?”

        “Reader,” Masky sighed as he sat up in his seat. “Please…”

        “It’s not that serious,” you attempted to retort. “It’s not… It’s not that bad.”

        “You’re delusional,” Masky said. “I saw the flowers in the trash bin.”

        You rolled your eyes but crossed your arms over your chest anyways in an attempt to soothe yourself. 

        “You know what happens, right?” He continued, leaning forward. “It either takes you or you get the surgery done.” 

        A pregnant pause passes before you reluctantly speak. 

        “Is… Is it really that bad?” 

        Masky nodded, “From experience? Yeah,” he mumbled. 

        You gave him a look of both sympathy and intrigue. 

        “The Operator forced me to get the surgery,” he admitted. 

        You look into his eyes and see for the first time that he’s empty. His dark brown eyes, that are full of amiability, protective nature, it’s all a front. He doesn’t actually feel that way - it is what is expected of him, but he is hollow. 

        “What happened?” You asked shyly, unsure if that’s too sensitive or not. 

        “I don’t quite remember as that’s an outcome of having the surgery,” Masky hummed. “But I remember that I loved him- I don’t feel it, obviously - but I remember that I loved him more than anything, would’ve moved mountains for him, and then he died,” he sounded vaguely perturbed by the words, but they did not reach his heart. “I think his name was Jay.” 

        You felt something pierce your heart, but it was interrupted by the flowers in your lungs blooming through your mouth. 

        Masky held you as you coughed petals and blood in the bathtub. 

        You promised Masky you were going to speak things over with Jack. You promised you were going to solve this. But when he spoke to you with his empty words coated in honey, the pain became too much to bear. It hurt. Seeing him hurt. Hearing him hurt.

        “Jack?” You ask quietly, slowly sitting up in the bed you shared with him, much too used to his arms not being slinked around your form by this point. 

        He roused slightly in the bed before he opened his eyes. “Yeah? What’s up?” He asks, a slight bite in his voice from being woken up. 

        “Can we talk about something?” 

        “Can’t it wait?” He sighs in a slightly exasperated tone. 

        You shake your head, and through the darkness, Jack’s form sloughs in defeat. 

        “What is it?” He asks. 

        “Are we okay?”

        “Of course we’re okay.”

        “Are you sure?”

        “Yes.”

        “Do you love me?” 

        “I love you more than anything,” he replies, hand gripping yours. 

        He feels like ice. 

        “And what about Leia?”

        “She’s a really good friend of mine.”

        He suddenly feels warm. 

        “I’m sorry for waking you.” 

        “It’s nothing, now go to sleep, baby. We can talk about this in the morning,” he says with a small yawn before falling back into the comfort of slumber. 

        Your other hand at this point, has wrapped over your mouth to stifle the sounds of silence and the threat of flowers crawling up from your esophagus. You suffer in silence for a few minutes until you’re certain he’s asleep, then quietly excuse yourself to the bathroom. 

        You begin to cough as softly as you can, not wanting to be a burden to anyone in the house as forget-me-nots begin to fill up the sink. Blood splatters on the porcelain as well as the mirror. Your eyes are full of tears. You feel cold, much too cold. 

        As you continue to empty your lungs in vain, the light flicks on. You’re in too much pain and absorbed in velvety petals to realize it at first. 

        “I thought I told you to handle this,” Masky’s exhausted voice chides gently, his eyes dipping to the mess you’ve left in the basin of the sink. 

        You grip the edge of the sink before hacking up the rest of what the garden in your lungs has to offer before slinking down to the tile floor, utterly exhausted. “Turn the light off,” you whisper. Your back rests against the tub. 

        Masky does as you ask, allowing the moonlight to overtake as the main source of light in the small bathroom. His shoulders sag slightly as he joins you on this floor, his arm around your shoulders. “Get some sleep,” he says softly, allowing you to rest your head on his shoulder. 

        You smile softly as the flowers continue to clog up your lungs. It looks like another fit is coming. 

        “Just let it pass,” he murmurs softly into your ear, his head resting loosely on top of yours as you attempt to suppress the flowers from reemerging. “It’ll be over soon.” 

        You move your eyes to look at his profile before you take in the scent of cigarettes. You continue to feel your lungs grow heavy with blossoms when you hear Leia’s door open. Her steps pad quietly along the wooden floor as she crosses the hall to the room you used to share with Jack. “You promise?” You manage to choke out before stifling your coughs as quietly as you can. Your eyelids are growing heavier. You can hear your heartbeat through your chest to the hallways of your ears. Leia has slipped into bed with Jack. You hear him shift. He’s holding her now. 

        “I promise,” he says gently, holding you just a little tighter. 

        You close your eyes and listen to Masky hum, hoping sleep washes over you soon.

[sunlight-moonrise]

Sugar, Spice, and Everything (Not So) Nice (Reid Imagine)

Summary: Being a Barista and falling for a regular is as cliche as it gets. Having that customer become your new professor? Not so much. 

A/N: *Peeks head out* Hello everyone. I have come back from my unannounced hiatus to show off this baby. Major thanks to @definitelynotkatesblog​ and @clean-bands-dirty-stories​ for helping me put this fic together. This was written for the lovely @httpnxtt​ for the secret-fic-swap in the Discord (thanks @imagining-in-the-margins​.) I hope you all enjoy this smutty goodness. 

Category: Smut

Content Warnings: Face Slapping, Degradation, Slight Hair Pulling, Oral Sex (male receiving), Fingering, Spanking, Penetrative Sex, Unprotected Sex/Creampie

Word Count: 6.4K

Masterlist

Being a barista is pretty awesome. Sure, there were bitchy customers and super early mornings but it had it’s redeeming perks. We got free coffee, tea, and snacks during our shifts, which served the caffeine addict in me. I also learned how to make popular lattes, mochas, and frappes that I ended up making at home for myself one too many times. While there were the occasional assholes who couldn’t appear human before getting their hands on some caffeine, there were the regulars who made it worth it. Most of the regulars were so sweet, I appreciated a familiar face when they came in. Some.. more than others.

“He’s baaaaaaaaack,” my coworker Hazel whispered to me in a sing-song voice as she scribbled a customer’s name on a cup. I turned to see who she was talking about, but I already had an inkling about who it was.

My suspicions were correct. I turned to see one of our kindest regulars, my personal favorite customer, Dr. Spencer Reid. Is it weird to know the full name -including the honorific- of a customer? Possibly. But when I’d asked for his name to write on his cup the first time he came in, he accidentally gave me his full name. 

“Dr. Reid- uh, Spencer. Sorry, work habit.” He stuttered, avoiding my eyes after the mistake.

“No worries! What can I get started for you?”

As a Criminology major,  I learned to study the people who catch my attention before indulging them. Call it an old habit. 

Dr. Spencer Reid had earned his title and then some. He’d joined the FBI at only 22, having six degrees under his belt by the age of 27. He’d written several dissertations and co-wrote novels with his colleague, David Rossi. Someone with his reputation could be a pompous ass and have a leg to stand on, which is what made his humbled demeanor so much sweeter. He was also incredibly easy on the eyes, which was a nice little bow on top. 

Hazel liked to joke about how we’d make a cute couple but I know she only did it to watch me get flustered.  

I walked towards the counter to take his order, leaving Hazel with the task of refilling the caramel syrup. I’m always the one to help him since he very aptly pointed out that I’m the only one who makes his coffee just how he likes it.  

Some days, he’d let me surprise him with a random creation. I’d confirm if he wanted caffeine (he always did), iced or not, and any flavor requests. He’d take his drink, tip me handsomely and let me know his thoughts on the drink the next time he came in. So far, his favorite was the almond milk honey latte I’d concocted. It was nice to have a little bit of fun, especially with regulars who were as consistent as him.

“Hey Doc, what can I get ya’?” I asked.

“The usual, please,” he said with a smile. I nodded and set off to make his drink: a venti dark roast with a shit ton of sugar, a dash of nutmeg, and a tiny bit of cinnamon.

“Of course!” I quickly go to fill his order, making sure to put a complimentary treat in a bag for him. I know he had the ultimate sweet tooth so I try to sneak him a confection whenever I can. At first, he was a bit reluctant to take the free pastries, but nowadays he usually smiles when he sees the small bag. 

“Here ya’ go.” I handed him his steamy cup of caffeine along with the little treat, seeing him smile at the small pun I add to his cup, “Have a BREW-tiful day, Doctor!” I watched as his lips landed on the rim of the cup, taking a long sip of the hot coffee. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, the sight making my cheeks promptly flush. I cleared my throat before asking, “Is it good?”

“It’s always good when you make it,” he stated matter of factly, a small smile touching his lips. The heat in my cheeks rose again. “Will you be taking a course this summer?” he asked, taking another sip of his coffee.

“Yeah, I’m really looking forward to it. My first day is actually later today. I’m surprised the class section was open, to be honest.” Super surprised actually. I’d been trying to enroll in this class for the past couple of semesters but it was always full by the time I was able to even load the registration page.

“Well, I’ll wish you luck, but I’m sure you won’t need it.”

“How can you be so sure?” 

“I can just tell.” He stated calmly, like it was common knowledge. I raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to explain. Before he could respond, an insistent cough caught both of our attention. I peeked over Spencer’s shoulder to see a customer waiting for his order to be taken. I turned my attention back to the Doctor, an annoyed look painted on my face. He nodded, taking a hint from the impatient mouth breather behind him. 

“Thank you for the coffee. Enjoy the rest of your day. I hope that class goes well.”

“Bye, you too.” I waved, watching as he exited the door. I turned to the waiting customer, a bit miffed that he interrupted our conversation. But because I was at work, I plastered a fake smile on my face so that he wouldn’t see just how annoyed I was. “Welcome, how may I help you?”

●●●

After clocking out at 2:30 PM, I made a dash for the building where my class would be held. It’s not supposed to start for another half-hour, but I wanted to be sure to get there in time to choose a good seat and settle in before the rest of the class arrived.

Luckily room 301 was relatively empty so I was able to score a perfect seat by the window. I decided to kill some time by listening to some music and doodling randomly in my notebook. Some time had passed when I felt someone take the seat next to me. I turned to see a young man occupying the chair beside mine. He looked to be a frat boy based on the Greek letters he was sporting. Who wears a cap and hoodie in this weather? I really hope he didn’t expect to cheat off of me- although these types of guys always seem to do so.

I was about to return to my doodle when I felt a poke on my shoulder. I turned to give the offender my full attention, removing one of the earbuds from my ears. 

“Hey, I’m Tony,” frat boy said, with a wide smile adorning his face. I must admit, his boyish grin melted the slight annoyance I had begun to stir toward him. I returned his greeting and introduced myself as well. “I don’t mean to be a bother,” he continued, “but I like to have at least one buddy in each of my classes. In case we need help or miss an assignment or something.”

I nodded my head - a friend in a class was always useful when it came to studying and swapping notes. We chatted a bit more, learning about each other’s major and why we both decided to take a summer course. Tony is a double major and this course will satisfy the credits he needs for his psychology requirement. This is why you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover. 

It wasn’t until I heard the hush of the classroom that I realized the class was about to begin. I turned back to my notebook, preparing to jot down some important information despite it being the first day of class.

“Good morning class.” Wait. That voice... I didn’t even need to pick my head up to know who had spoken. “This is Criminal Psychology and I am your instructor, Doctor Spencer Reid. Unfortunately, Professor Monroe could not cover this course so I’ll be his permanent replacement. Now…”

I raised my head, watching as he continued to talk about what is to be expected in this course while a TA handed out the syllabus. He went on, able to capture the attention of everyone while speaking of the experiences he had with an array of criminals. His eyes scanned the room and for a brief moment I thought they would land on me, but they continued to take in the mass amount of students before him.

My concentration was broken by Tony passing me a copy of the syllabus. I scanned it over, making sure to highlight all the important dates. I didn’t want any exams or projects conflicting with my work schedule. I also made note of how the overall grade system is broken down. The whole thing seems pretty fair and everything was spaced out enough where I wouldn’t feel too overwhelmed with the workload.

“… and that pretty much wraps it up. Does anyone have any questions?” I tuned in just as he was pulling the first class to a close. No one raised their hands, so he dismissed us with a reminder to read the first chapter of the textbook and to check for any emails.

“So do you want to grab lunch?” Tony asked from beside me. I contemplated whether or not to go with him. He must have seen the hesitation in my face because he quickly added, “Not as a date or anything, I just wanted to grab a bite and I didn’t want to do it alone.”

“Sure,” I smiled, “Let me just ask the professor a quick question about his office hours and I’ll meet you at the food court.”

“Sweet, I’ll see you in a bit.” With that, Tony gathered his stuff and exited the back door. 

I focused my attention on the podium, seeing a gaggle of girls surrounding him asking redundant questions. From what I could hear, their questions could have been answered if they’d read the syllabus. I decided to give them the benefit of the doubt, they were probably more focused on him rather than what he was saying during class. I waited a few more minutes for them to finish up before I made my way to him.

“So do I call you Doctor or Professor now?” I laughed. 

“From you, I’d respond to either,” he replied warmly. The comment made me blush. If he looked into my eyes at that moment, he’d see more stars in them than the night sky. I bit my lip to stop the idiotic grin from spreading across my face. 

He’s your professor, get a hold of yourself.

“How can I help?” he asked, bringing me back to the original reason as to why I was standing in front of him without a cash register between us. 

I cleared my throat. “Um, I was wondering if it was possible to see you outside your normal office hours? I usually work the morning shifts and I don’t want to flood your emails with my questions.” I asked.

“Of course,” he said. “You can come to my office at whatever time works best for you. I know balancing a work and school schedule can be hard. Besides, I’m usually there handling paperwork anyway.” He gave a small shrug, pushing his hands in his pockets. 

“Thank you so much. I look forward to the rest of the semester Professor Reid.” I liked the way his newfound honorific rolled off my tongue. 

“Goodbye, Y/N.”

“Goodbye, Professor.” With that, I left and headed out to meet Tony. 

I was able to find him at the food court. We got some food and chatted more about our classes as well as life outside of school. He made it easy to be his friend, and it was nice having someone to talk to. He works as a waiter so we shared our customer service horror stories and tales of sneaking food at work. It was a nice distraction that took my mind off of Dr. Reid and the ongoing battle of calling him Doctor or Professor. As Tony rambled, my mind wandered about other things I’d like to call Spencer instead. 

●●●

In that short span of two weeks, we already had an exam, an oral presentation, and a report on the psychoanalysis of serial killers. Not one day had been wasted, but this is what to be expected from a summer course. The essay was due the day before. Now we had to wait for our grades which gave us a moment to take a breath.

I was worried that my paper was subpar; especially since I chose to write about Andrei Chikatilo, a serial killer from Ukraine. He wasn’t as popular as those in America, so I ended up spending hours on deep research to find substantial information about his crimes. It also didn’t help that some of the original reports weren’t in English. I had worked hard, and hoped Professor Reid would see that, even if my writing could sometimes be a little weak. I was worried about the grade as our research papers held the weight of 20% of our final mark. 

“Hello? Earth to Y/N! Anyone in there?” Hazel’s voice pierced through my worry bubble, her hand waving in front of my face. I shook my head, trying to focus on restocking the coffee beans.

“Sorry Haze, I’m thinking about this class.”

“Funny you say that; your favorite professor just walked in. Thought you might want to take his order.” She wagged her brows at me, making kissy faces as I hurried to the front register, trying my best to not let my eagerness be so glaringly obvious.

There he was, in his usual handsome glory, patiently waiting for me to take his order. He greeted me with a small smile that I happily returned.

“Hey Doc, what can I get you today?”

He debated for a moment before saying, “Surprise me.”

“Gotcha.” I already had an in my head; it’d been a while since he asked me to make him a random drink so I’d had plenty of time to plan. We got an early shipment of ingredients for our fall-themed drinks and I figured he would appreciate some pumpkin spice in his caffeine. “How are the papers coming along?” I asked casually as I rang him up.

“Pretty well. I’m almost done, so you’ll all receive your grades later today.” Wow, that was fast. I wondered if he stayed up reading all those papers to be done by today. Probably not, a TA must have helped him.

“I am a bit nervous about mine, especially since it’s worth a huge part of our final grade.” I really wanted to get an A in this course, but it was hard juggling everything in such a short amount of time.

“Don’t worry about it too much,” he reassured. “I haven’t properly finished yours yet but it looked great just from what I’ve seen thus far.” His words gave me a little reassurance.

“Thanks. I put a lot of effort into it. Let me grab your coffee now.” Spencer walked towards the pick-up station while I grabbed a venti cup for his drink. Just when I was about to make his order, I saw another familiar face come up to the register. “Tony, hey!” I shouted, placing the cup back down, “What can I get you?” 

This was the first time he’d been here, despite him saying for the past few days that he’d stop by for a visit, even with the promise of a cake pop if he did. It was nice to see another familiar face.

“Hey coffee girl, how you doin’ today?”

“Just peachy. My feet are killing me, though.” Just saying the words caused the ache on the soles of my feet to spike higher. I thanked my lucky stars I was almost done with this eight-hour shift.

“Give me the chance to sweep you off your feet, I promise you won’t regret it.” he offered boldly. It wasn’t the first time he’d joked about taking me out. I laughed, especially since he had a girlfriend. She met us for lunch one day and we became fast friends- she was an incredibly sweet and intelligent girl, polite and elegant as well. It is a wonder how his frat boy charm won her over but opposites attract, I guess.

“Shut up, Casanova. What are you gonna have?”

“I’ll have a grande iced matcha latte, please.” I should’ve known. He told me that he loves matcha flavored food and drinks the first time we grabbed lunch after class. He had complained that there was no good place to get one on campus. 

“Coming right up.” I quickly filled his order since it was faster to make compared to the pumpkin spiced latte. I handed him his bribe-cake pop, matcha flavor of course, while he waited for me to finish making his drink.

“By the way, we’re still studying at the library for the exam later tonight, right?” Tony asked.

“Yup, I’ll meet you at 8.”

“Copy that, see you later coffee girl.” He turned to leave while I turned to make Professor Reid’s order. I put extra whip cream and a bit more syrup to satiate his sweet tooth. I grabbed a fresh chocolate muffin from the display case and popped it into a bag for him as well, drawing yet another pun on the good doctors bag. “Thanks for being such a TEA-rrific professor!”

“Here ya’ go Doc,” I called out before placing his drink and muffin on the counter. I looked up to see him no longer smiling. “Is everything okay?”

Ignoring my question, he said, “I wasn’t aware you were so close to Mr. Montgomery.”

“Oh yeah, we study together once in a while.” I could have sworn I saw his frown deepen before his features became void of any emotions. He shifted his eyes downward, his hand moving rapidly to grab the cup.

“I should get going.”

“Oh, okay” Before I could say goodbye, he was already halfway out the door. 

That was weird. I looked at the counter and noticed that he left the cupcake behind. Maybe he was in a rush?

I shook my head. I needed to concentrate on making it through the last couple of hours of work. 

●●●

I made my way to the classroom, smiling at Tony as he pulled out my seat for me. Professor Reid walked in a few minutes later, his tall figure drawing all the attention to the center of the small stage. He let us know he already graded the papers and that they would be distributed by the TA before the end of class. I had a weird feeling in the pit of my stomach but decided to brush it off and pay attention in class. Despite my attempts to focus on his lecture, I found my mind wandering every so often anyway.

I couldn’t help but think he was less animated today. Usually, he taught with such passion that the class couldn’t take their eyes off him. But today, it felt as if we were all in a boring seminar with an ancient professor. Tony kept glancing at the clock, probably also wondering why time felt like it was going by so slowly. 

I couldn’t shake the unsettled feeling the entire class. It didn’t help matters that every time I would raise my hand to answer a question, he would call on another student. What the hell did I do? 

I decided to tune out the rest of the class. There is no point in being an actively engaged student if I wasn’t going to get treated like one. I’d just get the notes from Tony later.

Thirty minutes before the end of class, the TA handed out our essays while Professor Reid wrapped. 

“Some of you did very well, while a few others struggled with the assignment.” His eyes landed on mine as he said that. It was the first time he had glanced in my direction the whole class. He moved on to the other side of the room. My mind was probably just playing tricks on me. “If you have any questions you can see me at my office hours next week or send me an email. You are dismissed.”

The TA finally made his way over to me, handing my essay in a slight fold. I looked at the grade on top and almost dropped the paper. My heart sped up as I stared at the letter in bright red ink. No way, no way this could be my report. I looked at the right-hand corner and saw my name at the top. I read through the first page and saw they were indeed my words.

How the fuck was it possible that I got a D on this paper? I knew my writing wasn’t the strongest, but a D? 

“How you’d do?” Tony asked. For a moment I forgot I was in a room with other people.

I cleared my throat, trying to relive the lump so that he didn’t hear the croak in my voice. “Umm, not what I expected. I’m going to try to speak to him about it.” Tony was a smart kid, so I was sure he could see how tense I was. Luckily he didn’t question me any further and instead told me he’d text me later before leaving the classroom.

Fortunately, there were no other students in the classroom to slow me down this time. I walked right up to the podium, watching as Professor Reid placed some papers in his satchel. 

“Professor, I need to speak with you.”

“Not now, I’m busy,” he replied, not even bothering to glance in my direction. This can’t be real. The sweet, kind Doc could not be the man acting like a total asshole right now.

“I really need to discuss with you my paper,” I pressed, raising my voice a little louder in an attempt to get his attention. That was wishful thinking on my part since he continued to fiddle with his satchel.

“I said I’m busy,” he uttered once again, his voice void of any emotion. He was about to walk past me, ignoring my whole being. His blatant disregard made my cheeks burn, and not in the usual way they usually did when I was around him.

“Spencer,” I barked, “We need to talk. Now.” For a few moments, he stood in front of me, his back facing my direction.

I was about to speak again before I heard him say, “My office. Half an hour.” He exited, leaving me alone in an empty classroom. The only things keeping me company were the fuming feelings swirling inside me and the failed paper clutched at my fist. 

●●●

I knocked on his office door ten minutes earlier than he’d told me. The anger in my gut brewed hotter the longer I waited. As soon as I heard a “Come in,” I rushed through the door, slamming it behind me. He regarded me coolly, but didn’t comment on my actions. 

“What can I do for you Ms. (Y/L/N)?” I walked up to his large desk, not bothering to take a seat in the chair in front of me. I took a moment to calm myself down before replying.

“Well, you can start by explaining to me why I got such a low score on my paper.” I guess he didn’t like being the only one of us sitting down because he stood up and leaned against the wall behind him.

“It did not meet the requirements for a passing grade as outlined in the rubric. The information given was boring and the overall topic was uninteresting. It was tedious to get through,” he responded nonchalantly, like he was giving me a weather report.  

“You said that you enjoyed it so far.” I rebutted, placing my hands on the desk. I needed something to offer me stability so that I wasn’t visibly shaking.  

“I’d mistaken your work for another student’s. Maybe Mr. Montgomery,” he dryly clipped.

A bitter laugh escaped me as I put the puzzle together. Was- was he serious? Was this man acting like this because of Tony? The audacity! The laugh that bubbled from my lips must have unsettled him. He left his position from the wall in favor of standing in front of me.

“You want to know what I think?” I didn’t give him a chance to respond before continuing, “I think you’re jealous that I have another guy that isn’t you getting friendly with me at the shop and because of your inability to keep your---“

“That is enough,” he grounded out, shaking his head. But I didn’t stop talking.

“--private feelings away from your professional ones, you decided to give me a failing grade. Do you know how hard I worked in-” my voice rose up higher and higher until I was yelling.

“I said that’s enough,” he said again, louder this time. But I wasn’t done.

“-this class? This is my life, my fucking future on the line. I’ve told you how important this all is to me and you don’t even give a shit! You’re going to let your interpretation of my relationship with another student influence the way you do your job? And here I thought you were a decent man, Professor.” I hissed, “Do you even give a damn abo-”

“Enough,” he roared, slamming his hands on the desk and caging me against the wood. His breathing was matching the upbeat pace of my own. His quick movement and the sheer volume of his voice caught me off guard, effectively silencing me. 

“I don’t deserve to be punished over your envy,” I whispered, locking eyes with him in a steady gaze.

“You want to see a real punishment, darling?” he hissed, the heat of his words almost breaking my glare, his breath fanning along my face.

We stared at one another for a while, neither of us willing to be the first to back down. The tension between us kept rising and rising until the inevitable happened. I couldn’t be sure who made the first move but before I knew it, our lips collided with a mix of rage and desperation. My arms draped around his neck as he pressed me on to the desk. He placed his hands on the back of my thighs, lifting me up high enough until I was perched on the cool wooden surface.

Spencer’s lips were soft, a stark contrast to the harsh way he was kissing me. His tongue parted my lips, gliding over mine with fervor. I couldn’t help but moan as he rolled his hips into me. He continued his rough grind, keeping my legs open as we moved as close together as our bodies would allow. He overwhelmed my senses- the smell of him, the taste of him, the feel of him. Everything was making me absolutely feral for this man. 

I never expected the gentle Dr. Reid to be so fervent, so sensual. The kindhearted, sweet professor who regularly drank his weight in caffeine never gave me this impression. But then again, I’m sure he was shocked by my attitude as well. He knew me as the friendly, bubbly barista, now student, who enjoyed his class. He was about to meet a whole new side of me, just like I was going to for him.

Spencer pulled away from me, our mouths making an audible ‘pop’ sound from the sudden separation. I tried to catch my breath as he stared at me, our chests rising and falling together. If I were to move a bit closer to him, we would be touching once again.

He took a few steps back before motioning me to step in front of him. “I want you to get down on your knees. Now.” I wasn’t going to argue with him, mainly because I wanted the exact same thing he did. I kneeled down, keeping my eyes on his face.

“You going to shut me up, Professor?” I teased, feeling powerful, even though he was looming over me. He didn’t reply, just continued to look down on me with those honey colored eyes- full of lust and rage.

I watched as he slowly placed his hands on his slacks, undoing the belt and buttons. He drew down his pants and boxers at the same time, just low enough to reveal his impressive size. My mouth salivated at the sight of his bulge as he came closer to me.

“We’re going to put that smart mouth to better use. Open.” He said, gripping my face between his fingers, forcing me to follow his orders. I opened my mouth slightly, not giving him exactly what he wanted. Instead of ordering my mouth to open further like I expected, he placed his thumb inside. He pushed the digit deep, pressing it against my tongue. I moaned around the finger, softly nibbling at the skin. He continued to slide his finger within my mouth before dragging it out completely. He wiped the excess spit on my cheek before lightly smacking it. The small shock of pain sent a shiver down my spine.

“Open, and do it right this time.”

I obeyed, opening wide enough to accept him into my mouth. My lips were stretched almost uncomfortably in an attempt to fit around him. He was so hot and thick, I couldn’t help but hum at the taste of him on my tongue. The soft “fuck” that fell from his lips had me purring around him. I went to place my hands on the remaining portion that couldn’t fit, but he batted them away.

“You’re using only your mouth.” 

Fine, have it your way, Sir. 

I placed my hands behind me as I bobbed my head, hallowing my cheeks with every rise. His shallow thrusts encouraged me to suck harder. I slowly pulled away to run my tongue against the vein protruding on the underside of his cock. I was rewarded with a groan escaping his lips.

“I should have known that you would be so good at this, darling,” he said, his voice slightly hoarse as he tried to control his grunts.

I made sure to look in his eyes as I swirled my tongue around the head of his cock. The face he made was purely angelic. The muscles of his neck protruded more evidently and his breathing became more labored. I placed him back in my mouth, this time taking my time to go down on him.

“That’s right, Princess. Show me what a good girl you are for me.” He moaned as I felt his hands weave in my hair before he pushed my head down on to him, causing me to gag around him, tears pricking my eyes. He continued his thrusts into my mouth, barely allowing me a chance to breathe. My nose repeatedly touched the base of him as I swallowed around his hard length.

Spencer tightened his fingers in my hair and I knew he wasn’t going to last much longer.  The pace was brutal, but I enjoyed the rough treatment. Knowing that I was the one making him feel good was such a turn on. He buried himself deep in my throat after a few more thrusts to finish. I swallowed his release like the greedy brat that we both now knew I was.

He eventually pulled out, a satisfied sigh leaving his lips. I swiped the back off my hand across my mouth to clean off any leftover spit and cum.

“Get up,” he ordered, his voice hoarse.

I did so, rubbing the ache in my knees as I slowly rose. “I want you bent over the desk,” he continued.

“I want you to answer my previous question.” I quipped.

“You’re not in the position to be making commands,” he growled. He wrapped his fingers in my hair again, pulling just roughly enough so that I was looking up at his face. “If you want this to end well for you, I suggest bending over my desk before I stuff my cock in that bratty little mouth of yours again.”

He released me, eyes still on my face waiting for me to follow through on his order. I turned to his desk and did as he asked, bending over the wood until my chest laid flat against the surface. I waited as patiently as I could for him. It felt as if I was in this position for an eternity before he touched me. He pushed both my underwear and skirt down to my knees before placing his hands on my hips. I heard it before I felt it- the smack on my ass that caused me to yelp.

“Fuck, Spencer. What the—” I was cut off with another resounding smack.

“Did you really think that I wasn’t going to give you a real punishment, darling?” I took a deep breath as another shiver went down my spine. He had no business sounding so hot right now. Another smack, this time on my opposite cheek, had me biting down on my lip to stop myself from crying out.

“This” *SMACK* “Is” *SMACK* “What” *SMACK* “Happens” *SMACK* “To” *SMACK* “Bratty” *SMACK* “Little” *SMACK* “Girls” *SMACK*. A sob ripped from my chest as the last blow landed. My ass was on fire and surely littered with his hand prints.

“You’re lucky I’m in a good mood since you sucked me off so nicely, or I would have made that worse.”

Gee, thanks.

“You look like such a dirty slut like this.” I felt a finger enter me easily, the wetness gathered there making my entrance ready to take him. “So wet. Was it the spanking that got you like this, or your mouth around my cock?” A moan was my only reply as he added another finger, the two digits moving in a scissoring motion. 

“Are you gonna be my sweet girl, now?” He asked as I moved my hips along his fingers, desperately trying to seek some more relief for the fire burning between my thighs as his mouth littered marks along my thighs. I closed my eyes, focusing on the pleasure he was giving me as he curled his fingers, a slow moan falling from my lips. He pulled them out of me, wiping the slickness against my still burning ass. Fucking bastard. I wiggled my hips against him, hoping he would grant me a reprieve and put his fingers back inside me. Instead, he spanked my ass one more time- one quick, sharp blow against the bruised cheek.

Just when I was about to yell at him, he placed the head of his member against my entrance. He moved up and down my drenched entrance before penetrating me in one full thrust. I took a short breath in, trying to get used to feeling so full. He was stretching me out in the most amazing way.

Spencer waited until I was grinding against him before he pulled out and pushed back into me. “Look at you, such a wanton little bitch aren’t you?” He could call me whatever he wanted, as long as he didn’t stop fucking me.

He kept a steady pace, making sure to grind into me every time he slammed back in. The obscene sound of our skin smacking against one another’s and the moans escaping our throats was an erotic symphony that had my body heat raising the temperature in the room.

He hitched my leg on top of the desk, entering in an angle that made the pleasure so much better. I couldn’t stop the whines that kept escaping my mouth every time he pounded into me. His hand stayed upon my leg, holding me down and limiting my movements. His nails dug into the skin so harshly I was sure there would be bruises left in their wake.  

“Fuck, you feel so good wrapped around me,” he hissed under his breath. “Should have known you just needed to be fucked like the cheap whore you are.” He sped up, hips snapping at an almost punishing pace. The desk creaked every time he slammed into me. I hoped no one was nearby to hear what was going on. A whine left my throat when I felt his fingers rub against my clit. I was so close now.

“Should I stay inside you? Fill you up so you walk around campus carrying my child?” He growls, his pace increasing with each passing moment. “Knock you up so the whole campus knows what a whore you are for me?” He asks, earning a cry ripped from my throat. 

“Who’s fucking you?” he grunted. I don’t know how he expected me to form a coherent statement at this current moment. My eyes could barely stay open at this point. 

“Spencer, please.” He smacked the outside of my thigh.

“Try again, who’s fucking you?” 

“You are, Doctor.” Apparently, that was the wrong answer too, because it earned me another smack on my thigh. I had tears streaming down my face from the pleasurable pain he was giving me.

“You have one more chance or else I’m not letting you come. Now, who’s is fucking you?”

“Professor Reid!” I cried out.

“That’s right darling. Now come on my cock.” A harsh bite on my neck was the ultimate push that had me seeing stars. Spencer thrusted a few more times before fully sheathing himself within me.

He slumped over me, the feel of his breath against my neck causing me to shiver once more. We took a moment to have the high leave our body before he pulled out of me, a gasp leaving the both of us. Spencer was the first to break the silence between us.

“Would you like to have dinner with me?” he asked, his voice a bit shy. 

I giggled at his demeanor. A few moments ago, he was fucking me senseless and spanking me over his desk like a porno, and now he was asking me out to dinner. 

“Absolutely,” I smiled. “But I should probably cancel my study plans.” I quickly added. 

He led me to the faculty bathroom so I could freshen myself up. When I emerged, he was back to being the prim and proper professor I knew him to be. Just before we left his office, he leaned down and whispered, “By the way, you got an A.”

[anika-ann]

In the Strangest Place (We Just Might Find Love) - Pt.1

Type: two-shot, pretty much canon

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader     Word count: 3700

Summary: You’re hiding from your boss in a supply closet, minding your own business, when a stranger joins you unexpectedly. 

This is not a beginning of a steamy story; given the reason you’re hanging out in the dark, even a make-out session is honestly the last thing you want to fantasize about right now.

But that doesn’t mean that the nice stranger cannot make your day much better. 

Warnings: mention of sexual harassment, a bit of angst, attempt at humour, language

You were on the verge of screaming – or crying, you honestly weren't sure anymore. But you knew you were done. You had worked your fingers to a bone just to get here; to become a little bee in the most famous hive in Manhattan. Stark Industries. The Stark/Avengers Tower. The beacon of the New York skyline. The dream coming true.

Yeah, not so much.

You hadn't expected super-important assignments – after all, you were just an assistant to the head of one of too many departments – but God, you had not expected to be handling coffee so often. To be running ridiculous errands. Your degree from MIT should actually mean something here! If nothing else than that you were not just some pretty face and that you fucking didn’t deserve the treatment you were receiving.

And that was the root of trouble, really. You could handle making your way up, it would be tiring but not surprising, it was pretty much what you had assigned for.

But you had not assigned for the sexist comments, disgusting innuendo and for the grabby hands of your sleazy boss. Thomas Gregory was a fucking nightmare of a man and you swore that you were quitting if he called you a ‘Dollface’ or slapped your ass one more time.

And that was how you had got here, into this very moment; hiding in a dark supply closet like a creep with two cups of overpriced coffee in a cup holder and a piece of organic carob-nut muffin.

You weren't about to come out any time soon, because you simply knew your boss still would be a pig and give you yet another reason to hand in your notice and you had fucking wanted this job for so long, worked for it so hard and sacrificed too much that you just couldn't make yourself to quit no matter how much your skin cringed and your stomach rolled over every time Thomas Gregory touched you. It was so frustrating you wanted to scream.

Or cry, you still couldn't solve the dilemma. Maybe both.

You barely registered the hurried footsteps – and then the door was yanked open, you glimpsed a tall blond male figure and suddenly there was dark again. Except there was one more body in the very limited room of the closet, making you press your back onto the shelf.

Something rattled with your movement and the newcomer hissed a barely audible ‘Be quiet’ as two columns of muscles that were probably his arms framed your head leaning onto the very same shelf, so you could both fit in here.

The little order leaving his lips broke the last seal inside you. You were tired, frustrated and were receiving enough humiliation as it was, you did not need some random guy invading your hideout, barking orders.

“Look, mister, if you have any problem with me trying to make a little space for you in this tiny-ass closet, I recommend you to-”  

“Shh!” he hushed you and you thought you had never heard someone whisper so urgently; at least it sounded less bossy than before. It did not mollify you though, because this guy actually had enough impudence to-

“Don't you dare to shush me-!”

A hand went to cover your mouth and you let out an exasperated mumble of curses, while his voice continued.

“Please, just— I'm sorry, please, don't make a sound, my friend is trying to set me up and-”

Your eyes went wide and he suddenly fell silent. Before you could question his methods of shutting you up, his exclaim or the pause, and ask him to be so kind to find another closet, another male voice sounded somewhere behind the door.

“Come on, Steeeve. Man, don't be such a prude. Lillian is a great chic, okay?”

The man – the friend, you assumed – seemed annoyed and you couldn't believe that Steve had not been kidding you. He was actually hiding for the very reason he had offered you. You nodded as you heard the stranger behind the door move and the hand covering your mouth hesitantly disappeared.

“It's just a lip piercing, don't be such a tight-ass. It can actually be quite fun, you wouldn't believe what a girl can do with such thing…”

“Gross,” you commented soundlessly and you could feel your companion’s eyes burning a hole into your head in silent agreement.

“Goddammit, Steve!”

The voice and the footsteps slowly disappeared in the distance and you… you were face to face with a stranger named Steve in a limited space of a dark supply closet, his breath tickling your scalp, his cologne very much assaulting your nose; at least it was a pleasant assault.

“I'm sorry for being so rude. And thank you,” his voice caressed your hairline gently and hearing his suddenly polite tone and evaluating this whole situation, you could barely hold back a giggle all of sudden.

“You're welcome, Steve. How long has this been going on?”

“Two days-” That didn't sound too bad, he could probably take a lot more- “-at this level. With Lillian. It was Emily before that and Angelina before that. In smaller scale, it's been happening for about four months,” he recited dutifully as if he was reporting a status to his boss and this time you couldn’t help it – you giggled.

When you could feel the wounded gaze he gave you, you obediently made a sympathetic noise.

“Aww, poor you, your friend supplying you with no doubt great relationship material…”

“That’s what he said! But I don't want a relationship material. I don't want any material, not even his… one-night stand material. What does that mean anyway? These are women he's talking about, not a material-”

You let out a tiny pleased sound at his exasperation, which shut him up. You wondered if it was your turn to speak – it was hard to tell, supply-closet conversations weren't exactly your area of expertise.

“Kudos for that thinking,” you noted after short silence and the darker shadow of his figure tilted his head. “Did you try to tell him that you weren't interested…? Of course you did, why am I asking, that was a stupid question…”

“It's okay. I'm sorry, I got a little… carried away. It just… it's like talking to a brick wall.”

You hummed in sympathy again and the room fell into silence once more.

It was ridiculous how much your mind started working over hundred percent, trying to come up with something appropriate to say. The best you could do was:

“Hey, you want a cup of overpriced organic coffee? I happen to have two.”

The needy noise that let his lips was downright pornographic. Or maybe it was your mind playing tricks on you, the strange environment finally getting to you.

“I knew I smelled coffee here! I thought I went completely insane.”

You couldn't help but smile at that. Yeah, you knew the feeling all too well.

“Nope, your senses were not playing tricks on you. Help yourself. It should be around your left hand.” A rustling of a paper bag. “Oh. That's a carob-nut muffin – with carob instead of cocoa. You can have that too, I won't need that.”

“Alright, I gotta ask. Why are you hiding in a supply closet, with a muffin and two cups of expensive coffee nonetheless? And may I hand you one?”

“Such a gentleman. Thanks,” you murmured and accepted the cup. You weren't lying about not needing it – you wouldn't. Because you were about to quit; it was inevitable.

You sipped the warm liquid, its taste as bitter as the reason behind your actions.

“So?”

“I'm hiding from my boss.”

Your voice must have sounded terrible, because his own softened at the confession.

“And why is that?”

“Because if I bring him his coffee and muffin, he'll probably call me his good girl and— and slap my butt and-”

“I beg your pardon?” he growled, like honest to God growled, the strange sound warming your scalp.

And it was the righteous outrage in the sound he let out, the reaction that you needed, someone agreeing with you – a stranger, who wouldn’t feel obliged to do so just it was a duty of being a good friend to you – that made the levee break. Suddenly tears were streaming down your face, anger and humiliation, and your breath was hitching in embarrassing hiccups and the dark space felt so anonymous and safe at the same time that you didn't even care anymore.

“And if he does that I’ll have to– to quit, because I-I'm so fucking fed up with his dis-disgusting hands and si-sickening voice voicing his lizard thoughts a-and I ca-can't quit goddammit, I worked so fucking hard to-to get a job h-here and-”

You didn't realise your hands started trembling until the cup disappeared from them, placed back on the shelf, and a pair of much bigger and warmer hands gently enveloped yours, his body shifting just a little closer as he lost the support that had been keeping some distance between you.

“Hey, hey, shh, it's gonna be okay…” his voice washed over you soothingly, sounding almost at your ear.

Still, there was space between your bodies, a respectable distance – as respectable as possible in the limited space. It was as if he acknowledged it could make you uncomfortable – which probably wasn't exactly hard to figure out, given what you just told him.

“I'm sorry,” you sobbed and cleared your throat afterwards in attempt to compose yourself. “I didn't mean to load that on you, my problems are none of your concern-”

“Like hell they aren't. Sexual harassment on a workplace is everyone's concern, or it should be,” he grunted. His hands tightened their grip, not uncomfortably – reassuring. “This okay?”

You smiled through your tears. This Steve guy was really sweet to you. You almost forgot what it was like to be treated with respect.

“Y-yeah. Thank you for-- for asking. That was really nice.”

He huffed. “It should be a normal human decency. And I did grab you before that, sorry.”

“Something tells me you would let go if I said no more vehemently.”

“Of course I would.”

You gave him a watery smile he couldn't see and tried to calm your breathing completely. His thumb caressing your wrist helped. You wondered which department he was from; if his skills in comforting came with a job description or if he was a natural.

“Have you… have you tried to fill in a report?” he asked hesitantly, making your heart stop.

Oh yeah, you had. It had ended up in a shredder machine, because Thomas had spotted it. He had made you do it yourself, standing over you and watching, claiming the complaint had been baseless and it would pointless to hand it anyway, because he would explain the HR how it truly was. That you had made a move and he, the good father and husband he had been, politely turned you down, which turned you vengeful.

You whispered the story to Steve, your voice trembling, more tears escaping and you could immediately tell he believed you – because his grip grew steely strong, his teeth grinding.

“This is wrong. You should have never been forced to work for a man like him– objectifying you, touching you, threatening you, that's just--- you should talk to Tony,” he blurted out in the end and you frowned.

“Who's Tony?”

You had checked the whole HR department via their website when doing your research. You couldn't recall any Tony.

There was a short pause, broken by Steve's confused voice. “Stark.”

You blinked, wondering if Steve was joking. He didn't sound like he was joking, which was strange, because so far, he had seemed to be a smart and reasonable man.

“There's no way I'm scoring a meeting with Mr. Stark. And it's not like he’s dealing with things like that.”

“...Talk to Pepper then. I doubt she has bigger than zero tolerance for harassment,” he exclaimed confidently as if talking to Pepper Potts (this time you assumed whom he was talking about – did he call all of the big bosses their first name…?) was an option for a regular human being like you. Realizing that all over again though, that was tough.

“While I believe that’s her policy, it's not like I can just walk into her office.”

Steve seemed to consider that, while his thumb was still drawing patterns on your skin, almost subconsciously.

“I think you could. But if you're worried it might take a while and you’re scared to go back to your office now, let me walk you. I can explain him that every employee deserves to be treated with respect,” he offered finally, deadly serious, yet still sounding kind.

Your heart swelled. A guy you just met (in a supply closet, a good story to be narrated at parties, you supposed), suggested to help you out, no hesitation. God, wasn't he just too pure for this world?

“I… thank you, Steve. But… while you do have an impressive frame, I think it would only get worse. I think I'll just enjoy this extremely hipster coffee, which I'll later have to pay for no doubt and… and go face my boss to hand him my resignation. There are plenty jobs, right? I can as well serve coffee in a café,” you said with a sad smile, letting your hands slip from his comfortable hold.

“That's not right. Especially if you worked hard to– not to mention it's a matter of principle. You run away once and… running is a very hard habit to break,” he whispered, as if a secret, trying to reason with you.

You bit your lip when the truth of his words washed over you, along with the way he spoke; with such a strong believe in principles that should stand a standard. It… he made you forgot your own trouble for a second as you let yourself get lost in him. In the way he treated you, the protector's persona, yet not forced. He had suggested you to ‘let him come with you’, not even a note of command in his approach. This was not a man seeing an opportunity to be a hero when spotting the damsel in distress; this was a man who believed in what was right and wanted to fix things that were apparently broken. You wished there were more men like him, selfishly wanting one of them to be your boss.

“And men like these – they need to be put in line,” he added darkly, snapping you from your daydreaming of a better world. “Let me come with you. I'll—I’ll help you fill in the forms, walk you to HR. You don't have to deal with this alone.”

For all the comfort the dark had offered you so far, you wished for a little bit more light now, enough to see his face, his eyes. You knew they would be burning with honesty, you were sure of it, maybe a little rage aimed at a man who dared to treat another human being the way he did.

The offer was so tempting. But just imagining the security escorting Steve from the building for wanting to help you was enough to put out the fiery need to accept. It was ridiculous to care so much about his well-being after what could be minutes of knowing him, but no one could call you out on it. And if they did, you could always play it cool with ‘matter of principles’; good people only deserved good things.

You carefully reached out, hoping to find his hand again. Your heart skipped a beat when you brushed his thigh instead, but at least his hand was right next to it. He released a surprised breath when you took it into yours, way smaller one. You bit your lip when leaning in a little, blindly trying to meet his gaze.

“You’re a good man, Steve. I’m sorry your friend is giving you a hard time, you don't deserve that – even though I'm sure he means well. If you ever want to get him off your back...” you wavered at the ridiculous idea, but hey, why the hell not, he had offered to help you out first, “you can say you're seeing someone. Give him my card. I'll confirm we're together �� he seems like a kind of a guy who would check.”

Shocked breathless laugh erupted from his chest and you assumed you hit the nail on the head. You fished out one of your business cards, handing it to him and releasing his hand then.

It was time to leave and face your fate, but Steve didn't make any attempt at moving out of the closet.

In fact, he seemed to examine the card for a while and then he quietly read out your name. You gasped in surprise. How the hell could he see anything? You could barely make out his silhouette!

“How-”

“I'm used to working in dark spaces,” he muttered absently. “Would you really do that?”

Slightly taken aback he was considering your offer, you nodded, only to realize he couldn't see it--- actually, he probably could.

“I would. Hell, I think I could handle one uncomfortable dinner with your friend vetting me,” you added, slightly amused at the idea. When you could hear his shocked exhale and wanted to take it back. “I didn't mean to-”

“Let me come with you to your office,” he repeated like a broken record and you frowned at the sudden change of topic.

“What-”

“It could throw your boss off your back for long enough for you to deal with the complaint. If you would be comfortable enough to play my girlfriend for a dinner time, why not now?”

Your eyes went wide and you almost choked on air.

“I-what? I told you it would probably only make it worse-”

“It will work.”

“How can you be so-”

The door yanked open and your eyes were hit by an unpleasantly sharp light, making you squint.

“Holy-” a ridiculously familiar voice you couldn’t place breathed out. “Wilson! I found him! You’ve gotta see this!”

You wanted to see the owner of the voice, but your view was completely blocked by the broad chest of your companion.

So you at least raised your head to meet Steve face to face so to speak. You couldn’t see much, your eyes still adjusting; with the light shining from behind him, playing a mysterious game with his blond locks, framing his impressive figure, he looked like a freaking angel, beautiful and righteous, bringing justice, yet wrapped in an aura of peace and serenity. You barely kept your jaw from falling on the floor.

You kept staring, focusing on his face, and slowly started realizing that his features too, were familiar. Mortification was creeping up your back as the puzzle pieces started falling into place, creating a horrifying picture, making you wish for the Earth to swallow you.

The voice from behind Steve’s back resolved the last doubts you had about your temporary mysterious roommate.

“Wouldn’t peg you as a get-freaky-in-a-closet kind of guy, Capsicle.”

You wanted to immediately protest that you had definitely not been getting freaky in the closet, but your brain was still frozen because of the big revelation – that you had just been comforted, hell, that you had just offered to be a fake date to Captain America.

You simply stared at him, unbeing able to hold your jaw from falling anymore. Because– because-- oh god.

Now it made perfect sense that he thought Thomas Gregory would be intimidated… by the idea of harassing Captain America’s girlfriend. You couldn’t really blame Steve for being sure it would work. Also, it kinda explained why he called Mr. Stark or Ms. Potts their first names – they were on the first name basis.

Which really was the least relevant thing right now.

A bashful smile appeared on Steve’s lips, a little guilty perhaps, and you just… giggled at the absurdity. You couldn’t help it. You had just spent minutes in a supply closet with Steve Rogers without having a single clue about it and while you didn’t do anything heated as someone would assume, it was one of the most amazing minutes of your life.

You must have looked like an idiot or something, because he chuckled too, completely ignoring another male voice growing in volume as the newcomer approached.

“Holy hell, man! I can’t believe what I’m seeing!”

At those words, Steve tentatively took your hand with an encouraging smile and led you out to the hall. You were met with two pairs of curious eyes examining you from head to toe. You lowered your gaze, now fully aware of the fact they belonged to Tony Stark – the Iron Man – and Samuel Wilson – the Falcon.

Well. Now the ‘party story’ finally got the right juice.

“Then don’t, Sam, because it’s not what it looks like,” Steve replied to his match-maker friend and took a deep breath, squeezing your hand tighter. “Tony, this woman would like to report harassment on her workplace.”

Your head snapped to Steve’s face with panicked gaze. What the hell was he doing?!

Tony Stark made a noise of disapproval.

“Couldn’t you try harder so she wouldn’t complain about you?”

“Tony,” Steve addressed him, his voice solemn just like his expression, which clearly surprised the billionaire. “I’m serious. It’s not about me. Her boss is the reason why she was hiding here.”

Without commenting any further, Steve handed him your business card and Mr. Stark hummed. You weren’t brave enough to look up. Was he going to wave it off? Was he going to fire you?

He said your name, making you gulp in fright. You had to look up now and you really didn’t wanna, too afraid of what you’d see. You were shocked to meet with a searching gaze, but not a mean one.

“It is true? Is your boss giving you trouble? Making sexist comments? Worse?”

You felt tears in your eyes, utterly taken aback by his sensitive tone, the inviting light in his eyes. It was too much to bear and you wanted to escape the kind gaze; and he wouldn’t let you. You only managed to nod when you felt Steve’s thumb caressing the back of your hand.

Mr. Stark sighed, adding a dark ‘goddammit’, and returned Steve the business card.

“Alright, kids. Let’s have a trip.”

And you just stared.

…what?

Part 2

I know, I know, Steve is a little bit of Knight-In-Shining-Armour here, but it made sense to me O:-)

Happy weekend!

Thank you for reading!

[thewinedark]

Summer Dark Academia Fashion

The forecast says it’s going to be almost 80 degrees this weekend. It is time to leave your cave. You go to your closet and open it to find racks of wool sweaters you have collected over the past eight months. There is a single t-shirt balled up in the corner. You are me. 

Tops

Turtlenecks are no longer an option.

Suit vests. You don’t need the oppressive heat of a button down to wear suit vests. If your vests are a little more low-necked then you’d like, wear a tank top or something with short sleeves underneath. I’m wearing a suit vest in this post, if you want to see styling ideas. 

Silk button downs. Obviously short sleeves are preferred, but long sleeves are still possible in the summer. With a material like silk especially, because it feels cool and also helps to keep your skin safe. You just need loose sleeves. That is the theme with this post: loose. If you want to continue dressing long sleeves or long pants in the summer, tight clothing is not an option. You need to be able to get airflow to your skin. 

Cotton. Cotton is a great material for heat; tops or bottoms. If you have a long sleeve button down, you can roll up the sleeves and tuck it into something high waisted. Add suspenders (optional, but highly recommended), and that’s summer dark academia right there you mad lad. Short sleeves or no sleeves work just as well.

T-shirt or tank top. Yes, even a basic t-shirt can be “dark academia” if styled right. Granted, you’re likely going to end up looking more like a “Milo Thatch from Atlantis” kind of academia, that’s hardly a bad thing. (Look up Cole Sprouse dressed as him and thank me later) A simple white top in black bottoms is reminiscent of a suit, while tan bottoms looks more “Lara Croft on an archaeology dig”, which is fun. 

Camisoles. If you want as little fabric on you as possible, silk camis are the way to go. Plus, you can find tons for super cheap in the pajamas/underwear section of most thrift stores. Is it weird to wear shirts people probably had sex in? Kind of. But if you’re cheap like me, you move past that quickly. Tuck into a pair of high waisted, loose pants that are black or tan, and you remain dark academia and without heatstroke (drink water). 

Bottoms

Unfortunately, they must be worn.

Shorts. Best material is linen, and you can find a lot of options and styles on Etsy and more high-end online stores. However, they’re also more expensive, so here are some other keywords for shorts: pleated, high waisted, paper bag. Look at ASOS, Express, or SHEIN for cheaper options. Jean shorts can also work, but they should be dark and definitely not cutoffs. A belt can also help to make the outfit seem more together. And, as always: high waisted, unless you want a more masculine fit, in which case avoid high waists.

Trousers. It’s trouser time baby. Suit pants are out. Skinny jeans are (unfortunately) out. We want loose, flowy material. Pleats are excellent. Actually, pants like these are pretty easy to find these days, and not just on the internet. Straight leg trousers look more streamlined and put together, whereas wide-leg are a bit more roguish. Tuck in a white top of your preference, add some suspenders, and drink water. You’re set.

Skirts/Dresses. Oh to be a wandering poet, running through fields and wildflowers in a flowing linen dress as the sun casts a crown above your head, and the wind gives you countless kisses on cheeks and hair. Wait! That can be you! Stop fantasizing and start doing- get a pale dress, linen or cotton is best. Pale colors are preferred for summer. Find a field. Frolic.

Shoes

Please put away your oxfords.

Mary Jane sandals. Mary Janes are pretty much the oxfords of summer shoes. Especially if you can get them in leather with low heels, it looks very classy.

Gladiator sandals. When in Rome. Or, when you’re into an aesthetic that really likes latin. Either way, these shoes are pretty much string and a sole, so they’re about as cool as you can get, temperature wise. 

Ballet sandals. I mentioned these in my unique dark academia fashion post, but I’ll do it again for summer. They’re similar to gladiator sandals in style, but I think they look fancier. Plus, you can tie them in little bows, which is adorable.

Accessories 

You know what I’m going to say. Say it. Out loud. 

SUSPENDERS. Ten bucks on amazon, and I promise they’re the best investment into your wardrobe you could make. They’re magic- take your boring shorts and shirt, add suspenders, and POOF. It’s dark academia. So classy. 

Sun hat. Cottage core and dark academia have pretty much moved from distant cousins to siblings at this point, might as well embrace it. Get something with a black bow out in. Have a picnic and read Keats.

Watch. I feel like a nice classy watch would be a great accessory that doesn’t involve adding fabric to your body. I mean, I don’t have one, but I feel like it would. 

Hair. If you have long hair, do yourself a favor, buy a french comb, and learn how to do a french twist. It takes a few tries to get right, but there are youtube videos and it is one of the easiest hairstyles that looks like it takes so much effort. I have pretty much switched ponytails out completely for french twists, and especially for the summer it’s great to get all your hair up and off your neck. If you have short hair, feel free to gloat. 

Feel free to add your own in the tags, and stay hydrated! 

[kaunis-sielu]

October Challenge: 12

Sparklers and Fireworks

You’re so excited to have some of the pack over to Sunrise Valley for a little housewarming party. It’s not all of them, Bucky isn’t coming due to his rut and Vision, Peter and MJ are all working but several of the others are coming.

Becca is bringing Pietro, Tony and Pepper are coming, as well as Sam, Carol, Natasha, Clint, Wanda and two members of the pack you still haven’t met. Bruce and Betty. Bruce is a professor and they’ve been off doing research, for his latest book.

Sam and Carol show up first, which isn’t a surprise, and Sam has a large box with him. Steve is instantly suspicious.

“What’s in the box Sam.”

“A surprise.”

“Yea that’s not good enough.” Steve says folding his arms over his chest and Carol sighs.

“I told you this wouldn’t work.”

“It might have if Carol was carrying the box.” Steve says and Sam scowls at him.

“That’s rude as hell Steve.”

“But also true.” Steve says, “What’s in the box Sam.”

“Fireworks and sparklers.”

“No. Absolutely not. We are not going to be responsible for starting a fire.”

“We’re not gonna start a fire. It rained two nights ago and we’re gonna shoot them over the valley. It’ll have plenty of time to burn out.”

“No Sam.” Sam looks down at you and you wink at him.

“Steve,” you say cautiously and he looks down at you. You’ve got your best puppy dog look going on and his mouth forms a straight line. “Please? I love fireworks and I’d love a photo with you and some sparklers. We can be extra careful.”

“Honey it’s not a good idea.”

“Alpha,” you purr playing with the open part of his button up, “we’re celebrating so many things.”

“Omega.” He groans but you don’t say anything, you just look back up at him through your lashes. “Fuck! Fine. Fine you win.”

“Really? We can shoot off the fireworks?” You ask and he drops his head back and groans.

“Yes. We can shoot off the fireworks.”

“Oh Alpha! Thank you!” Steve grumbles something that sounds a lot like

“Completely unfair. Can’t say no to my pretty Omega.” And you shoot Sam and Carol a triumphant smile, they both look dazed.

“Um, Steve?”

“Yea Honey?”

“What’s wrong with Sam and Carol?” He looks up at the pair and moves you behind him.

“You influenced them.”

“What? What does that mean?”

“It means that they’ve completely accepted you as the pack Omega. The True Omega. So, like you can influence me and the decisions that I make you can do the same with them. So when you were being a charming little brat just now,” you let out a gasp of indignation, “you were also charming them.”

“Oops.” You say with a small laugh as the two other Alphas seem to snap out of whatever daze they were in. “Uh, sorry.”

“What the hell?” Sam mumbles looking over at Carol in confusion. She looks equally bewildered.

“You were Omega charmed.” Steve says with a laugh.

“Does she make you feel like that all the time?” Carol asks looking at you apprehensively.

“Not to that degree but there’s always this need to make her happy. To do what’s best for her.”

“So weird.” Sam murmur, “I need a beer.” Carol nods and you and Steve watch in bemusement as the two wander away.

“Do you think that’s the first time they’ve felt the effect of an Omega?” You ask and Steve nods. “Whoops.”

“It’s not entirely your fault Honey. Sam goaded you into it.” Steve says wrapping an arm around you and you laugh softly.

“That’s fair. Thank you for letting us do fireworks. I’m super excited.”

“You said something about pictures? What are you thinking?”

“Sparkler ones.”

“Okay Honey.” He kisses you softly as Pepper and Tony come into the house, Pepper with a wide smile on her face and a basket of expensive cheese in her hand. Tony has vodka, which honestly isn’t a surprise. You hug both Alpha and Beta, Pepper is one of the few Alphas that you’re comfortable giving physical contact to, and Tony just is one of those Betas you can’t help but love.

“You stink of Rogers.” Tony gripes and Pepper jabs him with a finger. You laugh as he squirms away,

“Well she did just True Omega charm Sam and Carol so I felt like I should remind everyone she’s mine.” Steve says draping himself across you again.

“Oh! I wish I would’ve felt it too.” Pepper gushes, “I’ve never felt it before. Obviously, since I mated with a Beta.”

“I don’t think they liked it.” You tell her with a laugh.

“Still, it would be an interesting experience.” She says as Tony pouts behind her. “Oh Tony stop it.” She says with a laugh before dragging him further into the house. The only room people aren’t allowed into is your room, neither you nor Steve wanted your bedroom to smell like the pack.

The rest of the group comes to the house and at 9:30 Sam and Steve set up the fireworks. When they go to start you know Steve feels your disappointment because he says something to Sam then jogs away and back to you.

“Didn’t think I was gonna make you watch these alone did you Omega?”

“Maybe for a second.” You admit curling into his side.

“Not a chance.” He says before kissing you, he doesn’t move as a firework goes off over you and when he pulls away you see why. Becca is behind you with her camera out and pointed at you.

“Sneaky.”

“It’s super fucking cute Fawn.” She says showing it to you and she’s right, it is super fucking cute. You also do a couple pictures with the sparklers and a long exposure where Becca gets Pietro to run around you and Steve. You’re thrilled to have some couple photos that you can get framed and put up in the house.

When the rest of the pack leaves, after a very thorough search for embers in the grass, you, Steve and Cooper head to bed.

“Good day Omega?”

“A wonderful one. Thank you.”