#i remember the first time i saw the movie & how hard it socked me in literally thirty seconds

[muutos]

i think half the reason i fell so in love with rambo is his theme song

#to be deleted. #i think about this all the time but i never say it. #this score brings out so many different emotions and it's ten goddamn minutes #the first few minutes that play as the opening credits of first blood start? i could cry #i remember the first time i saw the movie & how hard it socked me in literally thirty seconds #misc * / out of character

[greymoonfeelings]

Sweet Reunion

pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Fem! Reader “Nightshade”

word count: 3k

warnings: smut, unprotected sex, male receiving oral, P in V sex and creampie 18+ ONLY

summary: You and Rooster were a thing of the past but now that you’re back in the place where it all began, the two of you are feeling a little bit nastolgic.

note: thank you to @marvelousmermaid for helping me when I was stuck! and thanks to @green-socks & @lorecraft for beta-ing.

~~~

North Island was the last place you ever expected to be again, but here you were in your old hang-out spot, The Hard Deck, surrounded by fellow Navy Servicemen.

When you first got the orders to go back for a special mission, your immediate reaction was dread, but now that you were hanging out with your old friends you couldn’t fathom why that had been your reaction.

That was until you heard his name.

“Bradshaw! Is that you?”

The name sends a shock coursing through your body. Your head snaps up just in time to see Bradley Bradshaw confidently striding through the bar.

He’s changed, which was to be expected after six years. He’s bigger, broader and his curls are more sun-bleached than you remember them. He was always attractive, but now he looks purely god-like.

“This is gonna be a long night,” you mutter under your breath before taking a big sip of your whiskey.

You turn to walk back over to your group of friends but you notice that Rooster and Hangman are in the middle of one of their pissing contests. You don’t feel like entertaining their antics tonight, so you decide to stay seated at the bar until the coast is clear.

“Did you see who’s here?” Phoenix takes a seat next to you.

“It’s hard not to, he sticks out like a sore thumb in that fuckin' shirt.”

“Hey, this might be your chance to finally make your move. With all the nostalgia of being back here, who knows what could happen between the two of you.”

“Nothing is going to happen between us.”

“Why not?”

“It’s been years. I’m sure he’s found someone else.” You cover up your frown by taking a sip of your drink, not wanting your best friend to catch onto your sour feelings.

“I don’t think so. You know how hard it is to find someone with our jobs. Plus, I saw him checking you out when he was walking in.”

“He was probably just taking in his surroundings.”

“Yeah, if taking in his surroundings means ogling at the smoking hot pilot wearing tiny jean shorts.”

“They’re not that short!”

Phoenix laughs at your defensiveness. “He was definitely staring at you before I called his name. He even blushed when I said something to him about it.”

“Did you really have to say something?” You groan at her antics.

“Please, Nightshade. If you’re not going to help yourself, then I have no choice but to step in.”

“Absolutely nothing will be happening between me and Bradley Bradshaw. It’s been six years and everything has changed.”

“Everything?”

“Everything,” you confirm.

“It seems to me like nothing has changed.”

Phoenix points to the wooden piano across the room where Rooster has just taken a seat. She flashes you a knowing smile before going to join all the other bar patrons in singing along to Rooster’s signature song.

As you watch him sing his heart out, a sudden swirl of memories plays through your mind like a movie. Memories of a similar night years earlier, the night you and Rooster had first hooked up. The night that led to a secret friends-with-benefits relationship during your original time at Top Gun.

“This feels wrong.” You mutter against Rooster’s lips as he pushes you against the bathroom door.

“Oh come on, Nightshade. You afraid of a little fun?”

Your heart jumps when someone knocks against the wooden door, trying to get in.

“I’m not afraid of fun, Rooster. I’m afraid of getting caught.”

“It’ll be worth it. I promise.”

He had made good on his promise that night and every time after the fact. Your sexual encounters were memorable, to say the least, and they hadn’t left your mind since.

You thought about him a lot during lonely nights on assignment.

The feel of his muscular body wrapped around yours, the way his big hands gripped your hips and moved your body just the way he needed. The way his large cock stretched you open and filled you. The way he would chant your name like a prayer as he came.

“I’ll have a beer, Penny.” A familiar deep voice pulls you out of your thoughts.

A large hand places a ten-dollar bill on the wooden bar. Your eyes trace the prominent veins up the arm and back to its owner, Rooster.

You look up at him a little dumbfounded. You had just been deep in a compromising flashback involving the man and here he was standing right next to you.

He meets your gaze, grinning. “Hey, Nightshade.”

“Hey, Rooster.” You gulp.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” He’s amused by the expression on your face, you can hear it in his tone. It’s like he can read your mind.

“It’s been a long time since we’ve seen each other.”

“Feels like just yesterday to me.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“I think about you.” He shrugs casually.

“Little old me?” You joke as if you weren’t imagining him minutes prior.

“Are you saying you don’t think about me? About us?”

“Can't say that I do,” you lie.

Rooster shakes his head in defeat. “Same old Nightshade, still stone cold.”

“Same old Rooster, still a big flirt.”

“I’m not as bad as Hangman.”

“Well, you’ve got that going for you.”

Rooster grabs his cold beer and walks away, leaving you to overthink what he’d just said.

Did he really still think about you, even after all this time apart? He must have had a girlfriend, or at least slept with other women, so why out of all of them did you stick out in his mind?

You don’t get any more time to ponder it because soon you’re being beckoned over by Phoenix.

“Nightshade! Get over here! We’re doing teams and I need you to show up Bagman for me!”

“Be right over!”

You sigh, finishing the rest of your drink before standing up. You weren’t about to let Bradley Bradshaw or some ambiguous statement he’d made ruin your night. You were back in a place where some of your best memories had taken place and you were going to enjoy it.

As you approach the pool table, Rooster’s eyes rake over your body as his tongue slips across his bottom lip. He's looking at you like you’re a tasty meal, something to be devoured slowly and savored. When his eyes finally make their way up to your face, he realizes that you caught him looking at you, but instead of shying away embarrassed, he winks.

It wasn’t enough to have dirty thoughts about your old friend plaguing your mind, but now he's here in person making it even harder on you.

•••

You had never planned on rekindling the flame between you and Rooster, but he spent the whole night trying to get your attention. He knew exactly what made you flustered and he was pulling out all the stops.

He spent the night invading your personal space and going overboard with little touches here and there.

He’d reach across you to grab a beer so you’d catch sight of his strong arms or reach into the bowl of popcorn at the same time as you so your hands would graze. When you’d fluster and pull away quickly, he’d just grin as he watched you squirm.

As he'd left for the night, he’d leaned in close to you and whispered his room number into your ear, inviting you to join him later.

Now it’s 1 a.m. and you’re struggling to fall asleep. You’ve been tossing and turning in your bed for the past three hours. You wanted to get a good night's sleep in preparation for tomorrow’s big meeting, but your body is buzzing with adrenaline.

Before you can process your actions, you’re throwing the covers off and leaving your room. You travel down the dimly lit hallway until you reach room 13 and knock on the door.

You want to scold yourself for landing in a position you swore you’d never put yourself in again, but any thoughts of going back to your room are gone the minute Rooster opens the door.

He stands before you shirtless in all his tanned glory, looking like he stepped off the cover of a cheesy romance novel.

You find yourself having to close your gaping mouth. It’s bad enough he’s got you here, he doesn’t need to catch you drooling over him.

“Nightshade.” Rooster smirks down at you, satisfied to see you standing on his doorstep this late at night. But then he notices the look on your face and realizes that maybe you weren’t here for the reason he originally thought. “Hey.” He reaches out and rubs your shoulder comfortingly. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. I was just teasing you earlier, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

His sincerity warms your heart and reminds you why you fell for him in the first place years ago.

“Just shut up and kiss me, you idiot.” You push your lips to his passionately, finally tasting him after so long. You kiss him with such intensity that it sends him stumbling back into the room, the door swinging shut behind you.

You forgot how good his lips felt against yours and how great of a kisser he was. You never cared much for making out, but you wouldn’t mind spending hours with your lips on his, not when it felt this electric.

You continue to move farther into the room until you hit the bed, forcing Rooster to sit as you continue to devour one another.

He pulls your top off, discarding the worn navy t-shirt across the room along with your bottoms so you’re bare against him.

Your skin is hot under the touch of his calloused hands which trace your figure, grabbing at anything he can to anchor your body as you grind against him, desperate to satiate the hunger he had left you with earlier in the evening.

“My cock is aching.” He groans at the painful friction from his sweatpants against his erection. “You gotta help me, baby.”

You pull away from him and get down on your knees in front of him, squeezing his thighs as he undoes the string of his sweatpants and pulls them down to his knees, freeing his erection.

Finally seeing his thick, veiny cock after six long years was like reuniting with an old friend and it was just as glorious as you remembered.

He begins to stroke his hard cock, but his hand is quickly replaced with yours as you’re eager to feel its weight.

You spit, letting it dribble down his shaft so your hand glides along better. Your other hand moves to cup his balls, fondling them as you lean down to take his leaking tip into your mouth.

His large hand grips the back of your head, guiding your mouth along his shaft as saliva begins to coat his length and dribbles from the corners of your mouth.

A string of spit makes its way down your chin, traveling down the valley of your breasts and the sight alone is enough to nearly make him cum.

“God, you give the messiest head. It’s fucking sinful how sloppy you get. Spit dripping down those perfect tits.”

You eagerly bob along his thick cock, taking him as far back as you can and work your hand around the part of him that you can’t fit in your mouth.

“You remember how we used to sneak around these halls between training exercises, looking for a quiet place for you to help me let go of all that pent-up adrenaline? Now here you are letting me use your mouth like old times.”

His hands hold the sides of your face, pushing you closer towards the patch of dark hair at his base. His heavy balls violently slap against your chin as he fucks your face.

Curse words spill out of his mouth when your throat spasms around him. A tear slides down your cheek as you gag, but Rooster is quick to gently wipe it away.

The sensation of your warm mouth is too much for him to last any longer. His hips buck a final time as he explodes in your mouth, his hot release shooting down the back of your throat, nearly choking you.

He pulls out, leaving you breathless and a slobbering mess.

“Still so good for me,” he pants. “Taking all this cock like we haven’t skipped a day. I wonder if your pussy still remembers it too?”

Rooster runs his fingers up your throat, collecting the mixture of cum and saliva before bringing those same fingers down to your bare pussy. He uses it as a lubricant to glide his fingers through your folds. Your hips buck against his hand as he zeros in on your clit and begins rubbing the sensitive bud.

Rooster smirks as he watches your head fall back in euphoria.

“Does that feel good, baby?”

You nod, unable to respond in between moans.

“Has it been a long time since someone touched this pretty pussy?”

“Yes,” you admit sheepishly.

“How could anyone resist? It's addictive.”

“I don’t want them.”

“Who do you want?”

Rooster gently grabs your chin and forces you to look at him when you answer.

“You. I want you.”

“C’mere.” Rooster rids himself of his sweatpants completely before pulling you down by your hips to straddle him.

His cock is still hard against his stomach, his earlier orgasm not enough to give him any relief. If he still had as much stamina as he did six years ago, you’re afraid you might not make it through the night, but it’d be a lovely way to go out.

He grasps his saliva-coated cock, bringing the tip up to your soaking core. You help him line up with your entrance before slowly lowering yourself until you're fully seated with his cock nestled deep inside you. Your insides burn at how big he is, but it doesn’t detract from your desire.

“God, you’re so big, Roos,” you whine.

“You take me so well. Best I’ve ever had.”

Rooster peppers kisses along your collarbone as you adjust to his size. It takes everything he has within him to restrain from eagerly bucking into you, but the last thing he wants to do is cause you pain.

After a few moments, his hands wander to your ass as he begins to rock his hips, gently thrusting into you. Your pussy feels like heaven wrapped around his cock and he can’t believe he’s lived without you for so many years.

“I’ve waited so long for you,” he whispers into your ear.

His admission causes your heart to flutter but makes your need to be ravaged by him more intense. You knew he was being delicate with you and if he would just allow himself to give in, there was a beast inside him waiting to be unleashed.

“Don’t hold back, please. I want it all,” you beg.

With your permission, Rooster’s large hands move to tightly grip your hips as he begins to manually move you up and down his cock.

Your ass slaps against his thighs with every bounce and the resulting sound echoes through the bedroom along with the lewd squelching of your pussy.

Your tight cunt feels like Heaven, but this isn’t enough for him. He needs more and he knows your body well enough to know you feel the same.

He temporarily pulls out to flip the two of you onto the bed. He throws your legs over his shoulders before he continues pounding into you.

Slowly but surely all of your senses are flooded by him.

The smell of the cologne still lingers on his skin, his ragged grunts are all you can hear. His hot, sticky skin is pressed against yours. You can still taste him on your tongue and the only thing in your line of vision is his hulking form. You’re consumed by him.

“You’re so perfect.” Rooster whispers, sucking a mark into the delicate skin below your ear.

You turn your head to meet his lips, winding your hands into his dark curls as his tongue explores your mouth.

“Fuck,” you whimper as he angles his hips to hit deeper, finding that special spot inside of you that makes your brain foggy with pleasure.

“Are you close, baby? I wanna see your beautiful face while you’re making a mess for me. You always look so pretty when you’re milking my cock.”

The pressure of his pelvis rubbing against your clit combined with the sweet words he’s whispering to you push you over the edge.

You let out a strangled cry as your high crashes over you. Pleasure floods your system as you cum around his cock, soaking him.

When he feels your pussy clamp down around him, Rooster’s pace falters as he finally lets go. His hot cum fills your cunt as he works both of you through your orgasms.

When it’s over, he slumps against you as you struggle to catch your breath. Every inch of your skin still feels like it’s on fire, but it’s the best thing you’ve ever felt.

“God, that was amazing.” You pant as you rub his back.

Rooster finally pulls away from you, going to the bathroom to clean himself off. He comes back with a wet cloth to help you clean up before collecting your discarded bottoms.

When he joins you back in bed, he pulls you to lay against his chest with his arms tightly wrapped around you. The two of you lay in comfortable silence until you speak up.

You turn in his arms to look deeply into his eyes. “I lied earlier, at the bar. I told you I never thought about you, but I did, I do. I think about you all the time.”

“I meant what I said, Nightshade. I’ve waited forever for another chance with you. I let you get away the first time, but I won’t make the same mistake twice.”

Rooster pulls you in for a kiss to prove his love to you and you back to laying in his arms, pleased with the way the night had turned out.

#heather writes #tgm fanfic #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw

[fandomstickyy]

You never thought you'd love like this

Fluff

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

The faint buzz of rain tapped through the window. The wear of your pajamas is on the shabby side. Loose threads peak from cotton shorts under his shirt, baggy and long on your form. You do give it back every now and then because he loves that shirt too. The view of someone he loves wear and parade around in something he loves- something that belongs to him trumps whatever need for a shirt at all. Who needs clothes he can give them all to you if it means you'll be marked by his scent.

Besides you is a man. A man that never fails to make you feel understood and loved. It's like this man gets high off connection or smth because the way he looks at you... damn it can make you dizzy. He thinks you're so beautiful. 'Easy competition for Aphrodite'. He is love sick for sure. In this moment of the rain falling, snuggled up on the couch watching a movie on your guys' 'must watch together list' you can't help but look up at him, collecting every ounce of his beauty and essence you can hold onto when morning comes and he has to go to work. Just the thought makes you hold him tighter.

You hadn't seen him in what felt like too long. A couple of days- a week, it doesn't matter. The bed has been dull without his soft snoring, lulling you to sleep. His strong body seemed too big in your bed. It was almost comical at the way yall had to twist and turn in the full sized mattress just to sleep comfortably. If it wasn't for him clutching you in his arms you might just up and fall out of bed. His legs are messy. Either intertwined with yours or spread out in all sorts of angels. If his arms are not wrapped around you he always makes sure you guys are touching in some way. A hand on the arm or on your heartbeat. God forbid if you want a late night snack, this man will follow the trail of your beautiful smell to whatever room you found yourself after hours. And if you REALLY want some alone time, he'll squeeze you tight by the arm, hand, hug, thighs it don't matter. (He just wants to remind himself that you'll come back. Please squeeze him back!)

Baby has a really hard time falling asleep knowing you're in the other room. That all separating you two is a couple walls and your desire for late night ice cream. Walking back into your shared bedroom your heart jumps at the sight. His head deeply snuggled into your designated pillow, you pad over getlntly not to wake him. He's always beautiful when he sleeps. His cheeks are soft and his eyebrows twitch a little when dreaming.

You two finally had a day where you were both off work. The night prior your phone held onto messages of love and longing.

Sleep well baby, I want you nice and well rested for our day together tmr <3.

Saccharine goo poured from the two of you whenever the other is involved. You don't remember when you got so whipped but in the swell of thoughts you have about him, regret of love ceases to show.

Your friends gushed when they met him for the first time. The next time you saw them, the first discussion was about if you guys said the 'big 3 words'.

"What?! We're not that serious..he's just a cool guy. Don't get so caught up. If it goes somewhere it does, if it don't it dont." You almost couldn't contain your smile. You shrugged them off then, but so much has changed. You can no longer hold those statements as truth. Too many memories have been made. You know he sleeps with his socks on or how he chews ice when he's really nervous. You know his favorite pastry always brightens his day because of a one off memory in his childhood. You two care too much about each other for this to be anything but casual. You were love sick too, it's true.

"Y-youre making me nervous there"

Lost in thought you hardly heard the fade in to his voice. The rasp of his voice settled in your ears. He's so cute like this. The soft glow of the movie playing. Hair messy, remnants of your handcrafted braids floating about his hair, peaking out at the tilt of his head. Oh, wait! He's staring at you-

"Huh?" Cheeks heating up, unable to hold back a toothy smile. His chest bounced lightly in laughter, shifting you slightly.

Gesturing towards the tv, "I'm trying to watch this movie my love has been waiting and waiting to watch," when he turns to look at you there's a pause, "and you...."

"And I..what?" Things were different now. There's home in his eyes. You hang off every word, every facial shift. It's deeply ingrained in the way you move. The way you talk to strangers. The way you look yourself in the mirror is different now. All your features are the same, but your heart is filled with his. All the things you ached away from about yourself beam with a desire to be loved. Your stretchmarks, he's traced so delicately. Your belly, he's slept on so gently. And your scars, he's kissed so lovingly. You never thought you'd love like this.

"God.. what I would do without you I hope I never know." The glow of the movie long forgotten shines on his reddened cheeks as he tries to bury a complicated smile. A smile that says 'I love you, please don't leave.' You can only hope he knows your smile says the same.

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

KIRISHIMA, Denki, Sero, Hawks, BOKUTO, itadori

(Anyone you thought I missed 👀? I left it pretty vague this time)

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

Au: wow haven't written fan related content or at all really in so long! Tell me what you think xx

What would be on your 'must watch together list' ?? I think mine would be Black Swan, a Twilight movie bc slay, and a horror movie bc I'm too scared to watch them by myself 😭

#kirishima eijirou #kirishima x reader #denki kaminari #denki x reader #bnha denki #sero hanta #sero x reader #bokuto koutarou #haikyuu bokuto #haikyuu #yuji itadori #jujutsu itadori #jujitsu kaisen #itadori x reader #mha hawks #hawks x reader #keigo x reader #mha

[secretgamergirl]

When Complete BS Becomes "Common Knowledge."

Someone told me they stopped paying attention to someone who reviews movies after one too many mean-spirited jokes about trans people, and it was one of those cases where the reviewer in question definitely had the vibe of someone who'd go around doing that, but I couldn't think of any real flagrant examples. Cut to me watching a movie the other day, remembering that oh yeah, I skipped that one guy's review of it because I wanted to go in blind, and sure enough, that review has this big long crappy 5 minute aside of an out of left field "DID YOU JUST ASSUME MY GENDER!?" routine. So that's a shame.

Now this particular guy rather famously Does Not Get Out Much. Pretty sure he hasn't really have any exposure to a single trans person, or to any real die hard transphobes, and most likely what happened here is he saw I dunno, an episode of South Park or a facebook post from some bigoted aunt, or some Tiktok video, something like that, and just blithely assimilated it into his world view.

But you know, the reality is... to the best of my knowledge no trans person has ever actually said this, or anything similar to this, and we sure as hell don't live in a world where anyone would have the back of someone who did? But you know, here we are.

Now I want to be clear, this isn't some kinda thing where trans people can't take a joke or anything. Literally while I was typing this, some cis guy just tossed this out, and this is a real tired old hokey one, but I cracked a smile, because oh yeah, the whole "programmer socks" bit really is a weirdly accurate stereotype.

And there's plenty of other trans jokes I'll laugh at. Ones directly at my expense. Some real dark ones even. You wanna go off on trans women all having the same like 10 names and them all sounding like we were born in the 1800s, go for it. Other stuff about how we all dress? Coping mechanisms? Low standards? Being too into pickles and sriracha? There's plenty.

But "DID YOU JUST ASSUME MY GENDER!?" and while we're at it, "I identify as..." don't even have the vague shape of something you're ever going to encounter in reality. Like if I didn't know the context of where these came from and hadn't had them posted a thousand times or so by people with swastikas for avatars and such, these probably would get a laugh from me the first time I heard them, because they sound like weird surrealist humor. Like, "don't you hate how every time you go to the laundromat, you have to play chess with the dragon before they let you in?"

But, again, I know the context. And the context is a bunch of fascists want people like me dead, and they're both too scared to pick up a gun to do it themselves and too incompetent to know who to point it at or where to find them. So they sit around with each other and go "hey, what sort of person does everyone hate? Let's all say trans people talk like them!" And because they haven't spoken to a single human being besides each other and the rich parents they're sponging off since getting banned from the Something Awful forums in the 90s/punk bar in the 80s/whatever, they settled on "rich white person calling the cops on somebody for walking down the street" and "didn't I first get into being a hatemonger because I was stupid enough to think that time I saw someone roleplaying he really thought he was a big scary dragon?" Which has honestly worked out weirdly well for them when you stop for half a second to appreciate just how absolutely ridiculous it is to ever imagine cops coming to the aid of trans people.

Like... here's a situation that actually plays out in reality. I have a bad tooth. Dentist says I need a root canal, and she doesn't do them. Refers me to another dentist like an hour and a half away. I walk in, write my Victorian sounding name on some paperwork, fill in all my various medications, wait a bit, hop into the big dentist's chair, so far so good. This dentist busts out the pick and the mirror about to have a look, and goes "hey, so I noticed on your medications you're taking a ton of something called divigel? What is that?" I say "oh, yeah, I'm trans, so I'm on supplemental estradiol." She almost drops the mirror, stares at me like she just realized I'm Venom and if she bent down to look at my teeth I was about to swallow her whole head. She stands bolt upright, says, "your teeth are fine, get out." I'm a bit confused, but I can read a room, so I say "well that's weird, but OK..." and start to leave. I get a "have a nice day SIR!" shouted at me. And then I go out, call the cab company to say my appointment ended early, and get told too bad, it's coming when it's scheduled, and someone snickers. See, at some point in having to take cabs to all my appointments, a driver worked out that this woman he'd been picking up from this address for the past year has a similar voice to and maybe vague family resemblance to who he'd been picking up from that same address the year prior, and after getting the courage to ask me, guess who's constantly having cabs show up late, or not at all, or on time with a driver staring angrily into the rear view mirror while blaring AM radio with someone shouting about all "the gays" needing to be rounded up so they can burn in hell. And I just need to suck it up and live with it. I'm sure as hell not going to pick a fight over it. I'm just gonna stand out in the cold (fortunately with nice warm knee-high socks) waiting for this cab for an hour because I sure as hell can't stay in this lobby.

But again, the whole weird myth here posits a world where trans people are all-powerful and control the government and stuff. And the basis for that is like... sometimes people refuse to pass ridiculous laws to stop trans people from doing things we only do in bigots' imaginations at great taxpayer expense, and SOMETIMES someone is responsible enough to double check what's up before they allocate the funds. Like... hell, you know what's exactly as completely divorced from reality and honestly the same people doing to same crap? That wild BS about "schools keeping litter boxes in classrooms because all this acceptance of trans people means we also have to accept kids who think they're cats!" Like... how the hell can anyone actually be stupid enough to believe that anyone else could be stupid enough to believe that they're actually stupid enough to believe such an OBVIOUSLY made-up narrative? Like... lawmakers bring that one up and try to get bills passed on it. Everyone else in the room is socially obligated not to laugh and ask whether they also want to pass legislation against Bat Boy and UFO abductions. This is Ralph Wiggum tier absurdity.

But like... what do you do about this sort of thing, really? As the person ultimately has to deal with the dentists who think I'll bite their heads off, ask to speak to their manager, and drop trou over a sandbox the state mandates they keep in the middle of the room, I'm... not in the room when this BS gets concocted, or discussed, or shared in Minions meme some film critic sees and imitates to try and be relatable and relevant. Can someone else start grabbing all these people by the lapels and shake them and shout questions about how they can be this stupid, maybe invite them back to reality for me?

#bigotry #transphobia #out of touch boomers #the one joke

[sadhours]

Sixteen months have passed. Billy is an angry kind of bitter. ‘Cause he didn’t ever really open himself up to anyone. In preparation for moments like this, where he gave himself entirely to someone and loved them more than he loved himself. Which was kind of easy for him to, since Billy didn’t even like himself. The thing is, he resisted Steve. Yeah, maybe he started it back in basketball practice. But then Steve figured it out and Billy stayed away. Wouldn’t allow them to be alone together.

Steve grew persistent. So much so that Billy couldn’t ignore it and really, he was human. The second he saw those big, down turned puppy dog eyes and floppy hair he was certainly smitten. But those words his dad liked to call him flooded his mind whenever he looked at Steve ‘cause it was like Neil knew before Billy did. He smelled the queer on Billy before he could even figure it out for himself.

He remembers it down to the fucking socks Steve wore, how it finally happened. They were argyle, ugly pink and pale yellow. Golf socks probably. Steve’s mom definitely bought them. Billy laughed at them, in his dumb room with his ugly plaid wallpaper and his baseball trophies that can’t be hard to earn in a sweat stain of a city like Hawkins. Some semblance of a truce when Steve invited him over that night. Steve offered weed that’s laughable compared to what he was used to in San Diego but he still smoked it. Tried to fucking impress him with smoke tricks but Steve could do them all too. Cheap beers went down easy and then they talked. Steve complained about his parents and Billy was just barely intoxicated enough to admit the horror movie his own home life was like. Steve seemed concerned and Billy pushed it away, felt sober when Steve touched him. He confronted him, and Steve came clean.

“The hell did you even invite me here for? Soap opera bullshit?”

“I think you like me,” Steve had blurted out, “Or at least, maybe there’s a different reason you smashed my face up.”

“What the fuck are you saying?” Billy got all aggressive which looking back, he feels ridiculous about because Steve wanted him just as much.

“There’s like this look in your eye, it’s like, at first, I don't know,” Steve had exhaled, “You scared me at first, or annoyed me at least but then you almost killed me and after that, you looked at me different. Like you felt guilty. And I wracked my brain for why. Thought it was just like, you know, normal guilt but you didn’t apologize. Or like acknowledge it, and maybe… I figured maybe it’s because you were picturing your own face when you were punching mine.”

A beat of silence. Billy had no fucking clue what to say. But Steve said, “Then I realized you felt mad about it because you’d really rather kiss me than punch me and that scares you more than anything. And like, listen, I’m not gay. But I look at you and I find myself being attracted to you and I don’t question it. Must be natural if I’m feeling it.”

Billy stared at the stars after that but when Steve reached for his hand he didn’t recoil. He let him. And then Steve went inside, and Billy followed him.

So yeah, when Steve told him he didn’t feel that way anymore, it ripped his heart out. ‘Cause the reason they even got to where they were is because Steve’s stupid, pretty mouth got ‘em there.

Billy hadn’t liked anyone like he liked Steve. Hadn’t ever gone to bed, holding himself and imaging it was someone else. He was so used to being the only one there for him. And it became where he wasn’t home ever and it wasn’t because he was trying to get away from Neil. It was because he didn’t feel like himself if Steve wasn’t in arms reach. It was because Billy felt like he couldn’t breathe if he wasn’t in Steve’s company.

Like, yeah. It wasn’t healthy. Billy allowed himself to become utterly codependent on Steve. It was only a matter of time before Steve felt suffocated. Billy was up his ass, literally and figuratively.

For the dumbest shit. Steve said he missed women. And that just doesn’t make any sense to Billy. How can you miss something you don’t even have? Well, fuck, okay… he doesn’t have Steve and he misses him. Doesn’t have his mom and misses her. Fine, okay, it makes sense but Billy’s still mad. He didn’t even accept he liked men before Steve forced it on him, but he doesn’t miss women. Just misses the way Steve would play with his hair and the way his eyes crinkled and that little dimple in his cheek.

Billy discovers Nancy Wheeler is the reason for their break up. Jonathan’s out in California and well, Steve isn’t. Steve’s here. And Nancy’s still in school. Billy hopes she isn’t like her mom. That she won’t fold to the first love telling her he wants a family. Because Steve wouldn’t shut up about a family. Told Billy he wanted like, a fuckton of kids. Which like, Billy can’t physically give him. Maybe he’s cursing biology to this day for it, that’s his own business.

So Nancy and Steve pick up where they left off. Billy avoids them like the plague, can’t even fathom seeing Steve but Heather tells him all the gritty details. But he can’t avoid Steve forever. Because Maxine needs to rent a movie, and Billy’s still her designated chauffeur while he’s living under Neil’s roof. The BMW is parked outside so Billy insists he’ll wait in his car. It goes smoothly. He doesn’t see Steve. He stares at the fucking dumb car his daddy bought for him and thinks about all the times he spent in the backseat. A seething anger takes over him and he’s cruel to Max when she climbs back inside the Camaro.

But she keeps asking. And two nights he’s staring at the car under the horrible neon lights of Family Video.

Max takes a loooong time one night. Like thirty minutes. Billy chainsmokes until he can’t take it, too impatient as he storms through the doors. And then those puppy dog eyes meet his and it’s like a fucking freight train runs through him. His heart literally breaks again as his eyes catch the glimmer of a ring on Steve’s finger. Heather hasn’t told him this. There’s no common courtesy left in him as he grabs a hold of Max’s hood and drags her out of the store. Ignores the look on Steve’s face as he manhandles his step sister out of the fluorescent lit shop. Max doesn’t say a single word on the way home.

He’s having lunch with Heather when he sees the happy couple. He manages to keep calm. Mostly for Heather’s sake. Because Billy’s seeing red, wants to turn into a little tornado of destruction and Steve’s a pathetic trailer in his path. He lights a cigarette instead, tells Heather the most embarrassing things about Steve he can think of.

And then it’s calm for a while. Billy works an excruciating amount of overtime to distract himself. His dad finally tells him he’s proud. And Billy breaks then. Gets in his car and drives the familiar roads until he’s in Loch Nora. The BMW is parked where it always is, alone. He doesn’t even knock. Flies into the house with the anger he’s been bottling up for months.

Steve’s on the couch, stands upright and panicked when the front door smacks against the wall. Looks terrified. And Billy wants to be violent, wants to punch Steve’s lights out but he doesn’t. Instead he looks at him and cries, “Why?”

He’s cried in front of Steve before. It’s not new, but they haven’t talked in so long.

“Billy,” Steve’s voice is firm, like Billy’s a fucking dog and he just has to scold him.

“No! Fuck you!” he shoves Steve, but the taller man doesn’t budge. Grabs onto Billy’s biceps. “I loved you!” Billy cries, “You made me love you!”

“Hey, hey… woah,” Steve looks so alarmed, his eyebrows knit together and fuck, he still loves him.

“Why did you do this?” Billy blubbers, punching weakly against Steve’s chest.

Steve wraps his arms around Billy, pulls him flush and he can’t fight back. He’s where he’s wanted to be this whole time, in Steve’s arms. He cries, shoving his face in Steve’s neck as the sobs wrack through his body.

“I hate you!” Billy cries and cries, clutching onto Steve. He rubs soothing circles into Billy’s back. Still knows how to calm him down. “I can’t— I can’t— Steve!” he sobs, welcoming the tight embrace. “I love you…”

“I know,” Steve comforts him, squeezing hold of Billy. It’s wrong but it helps. Just being close like this again with him. He feels whole again.

“Why?” he cries a little softer this time.

Steve sighs, pulls back but starts petting Billy’s head, “Because... the way you feel about me… it’s how I feel about Nancy.”

Billy’s heart twists, Steve might as well reached inside his chest and wrung it out himself.

“No… Steve…” Billy hiccups, wiping his nose with the sleeve of his jacket, “I… what about me?”

Steve sighs, “Listen… I do love you, still. There’s always gonna be this place in my heart for you but it’s done. I’ve moved on, Billy.”

He sniffles, looks up at the man he loves but decides he’s embarrassed himself enough. He pulls back and straightens himself out, “Yeah. No. I’m… fuck, okay. Yeah, that’s fine. I’m sorry that I couldn’t be what you wanted. But you’re right. It’s done.”

—

“Heather,” Billy laughs, reaching for her hand. “C’mere.”

She laces their fingers as she leans into him. Okay, so he never saw this coming. And yeah, he sees Steve around. Sees Nancy and her huge belly. Sure it still hurts. But he’s got Heather. He thinks that’s all he needs.

#billy x steve #harringrove #angst

[tinythebunni]

Nightwing x Crybaby reader

Babydoll

A High school AU

｡.｡:∞♥︎*❤︎︎

The first time Dick saw you, is a faded memory only he will remember. It was a Thursday, the sun was shining in the west and it was partly cloudy.

You, the embodiment of innocence, were wearing a ruffle tiered white skirt, a pink top with strawberry shortcake on it, and impossibly white knee high socks. You had your hair in half up half down pigtails.

His own personal dream. His own personal heaven. His own personal angel to corrupt. God he needed you badly.

The first time you guys spoke, you initiated the conversation. Two months after Dick first saw you.

“Hi, I’m y/n! I noticed you taking pictures around the school, and I was hoping I could see some?” Your voice was angelic. Slightly raspy, but still so heavenly.

But you could never see his camera. What you didn’t know, was that Dick had been taking perverted pictures of you. Pictures of your skirt flying up during cheer practice, your lips around a red sucker, and some of you sleeping.

Not sleeping in class, no that’s too obvious. Pictures of you sleeping in your bed, at your house. Dick takes advantage of his Nightwing “powers” often, usually for mundane things like walking around the city. But he’s been using them for, extracurricular activities too.

Like climbing to the wall of your house to watch you sleep. Using his agility to open your window and climb inside. Using his stealth to take pictures of you sleeping, pictures up your nightgown, pictures of you laying in your bed, helpless and innocent.

You could never, ever see his camera.

“I’m really sorry but my pictures are private. Each one has significance to me” bullshit. He just didn’t want you to see pictures of your underwear covered in his cum.

“Oh no that’s okay! Sorry for bothering you. I’m just gonna go…” You said pointing to the field behind you. But Dick stopped you once again.

You were finally talking to him, he couldn’t let this opportunity pass him up. “But, if you want, I could take some pictures of you?”

The way he said it sent butterflies down your stomach and up your spine. You’ve never felt like that before. “Y-yea sure! I, um, do you need a certain pose?” You stuttered, hand behind your head, nervous.

God you looked so pathetic right now. “No, just act nonchalant.” He was so demanding. You kinda liked it.

He took 36 photos in total. 27 for you, and 9 for him. 9 photos of you off guard. Where you didn’t know he was watching you. So oblivious to his intentions.

“So how do you want these photos to look like?” Dick asked. He didn’t even know if you liked the photos. You just stared up at him.

“I mean, I could always give you my number?”

Holy shit. Holy shit. You wanted to give him your number. Just for some pictures? No way.

“Seems like you had secret intentions from the start, angel.” Dick said, sliding you his phone.

Angel. Angel. The word, repeating in your head. It had just slipped out, but god it made you wet. You felt hot, you needed him. So you would have him.

You dazily typed in your number and said bye. As you walked away, you tripped over a rock in your hazy state. Dick, being Night-Wing and all, caught you before you could hit the ground.

You stared up at him as he grabbed your arm. You felt small, tiny even. Helpless, pathetic, like he could toss you around. This man was perfect for you. The embodiment of sin.

“Be careful there, wouldn’t want you to mess up your pretty socks.” Dick spoke, walking away with his camera after making sure you were okay.

You were soaked. Dick was hard. There were 10 minutes left for lunch. You had needs, Dick had needs. (You can pretty much guess what happened.)

‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵

The next time you spoke to Dick, was during 9th period on a Friday. It was AP History, you had a substitute today. All you were doing was watching a movie while the substitute typed on his phone.

Connor Kent was having a party tonight. You, of course, had been invited. You’d only been invited because Connor wanted to get in your pants, but you didn’t know that. Oh how oblivious you were…

Dick sat a row in front of you, one desk over to the right. He had his head down, left cheek on his left arm. You had been trying to get his attention with paper balls.

Dick knew this, of course he did. He’d noticed it a while ago, he just wanted to see you fail and have to get his attention verbally.

Eventually, you gave up. You reached forward, your skirt lifting up just slightly, and tapped his shoulder. Dick turned around just slightly, so that he could look at you. You were blushing hard, for a reason he couldn’t figure out. But he could guess.

You were blushing because of how he looked right now. Absolutely sinful, eyes dark and predatory. He always looked at you like that, you’d noticed. His lips spread in a slight smirk, hair awry. He looked so pretty.

“Um, i um…” god you were stuttering like an idiot. “Come on bunny. it’s okay, just try again.” Dick said. You blushed even harder, his voice was so deep and raspy.

“I just wanted to know if you’re going to Connor’s party tonight?” Connor’s party. The only boy who he despised out of the entire highschool. He had been invited, yes. But he didn’t want to go. Parties weren’t his thing.

But for you, they would be. “Yea, I didn’t plan on it but I might show up now.” Oh. Oh. What did that mean exactly. Was he planning on seeing someone? Did he have a crush already? Your heart chipped in that moment.

“And why’s that exactly?” You truly truly hoped you were wrong. You’d just found the perfect boy, and he already had a girl.

“The girl I wanna see is going. I’d have nothing to do when she’s not there.” Oh my god. This was your last straw. You wanted to cry.

“And what’s this girls name?” You needed to find out who this bitch was. You swore to God that you’d kill her. You would-

“Angel.” Oh. Angel. Angel. It was you. You were the girl. Your cheeks heated up, so much so that it was evident on your face. Your eyebrows scrunched just enough to make you look beautifully confused. Your leg, that had been bouncing for the last few minutes, stopped. You were content.

“Now let’s go back to watching the movie, angel. Wouldn’t want you to lose any valuable knowledge because of me.”

You still wanted to talk to him. “But I wanna talk to you, this movie is so boring!”

“Be a good girl and listen, why don’t ya? Behave and you’ll be happy you did.”

Yes sir. Don’t gotta tell me twice. You thought to yourself. Turning around, you tried to focus on the movie, yet your mind was busy thinking about Dick. You needed him bad, every part of him.

#nightwing smut #nightwing imagine #au #nightwing lemon #nightwing #dick grayson smut #dick grayson imagine #perv!dick grayson #stalker!dick grayson #dceu fic #dc #batman #dick grayson

[shysneeze]

robin buckley (dating) headcanons:

warnings: swearing, fluff, mention of nightmares, kissing, cheesy romantic bs

(ik i’ve done a lot of these, but this one is a general thing of all the little things i think dating rob would include)

robin buckley is a needy gf i stg

always holding your hand: running her thumb over your knuckles at home whilst she talks, hands hidden in her pocket around town, linked pinkies in the break room at work

kissing all of her freckles on lazy sunday mornings???? oh my god

she likes to listen to music when you’re making out but god forbid a record finishes whilst you’re kissing, she will get up to flip or change it: she doesn’t like silence

“robin…”

“i know, but if i don’t flip it, we’ll miss the chain, which is arguably one of the best make out songs on the album-“

nothing stresses her like labels on clothes, you always cut them off for her and make sure they’re aren’t any loose threads to irritate her

she finds it really endearing that you know her well enough to do it for her

robin is the mostly little spoon because i say so

her favourite way to cuddle though is sitting on the sofa, head against your chest, lying between im your legs whilst you play with her hair

talks a lot when you’re trying to sleep, she remembers all the little things she was meant to tell you but forgot, and it all tumbles out at once

“did i tell you about the biker who rented cinderella today?”

“oh my god, i saw this little frog today-“

“i think steve likes eddie because-“

it’s a good thing you love her because that would drive anyone else insane, but it’s nice to listen to robin talk

steve drive you around for your dates

(accidentally elbowed the horn the when robin kissed you on the porch during your first date because he was so proud of her)

he loves teasing the pair of you at work, especially how you manage to make robin blush everyday

robin once tries to make you a romantic meal and burns her finger tips - only stops being embarrassed about it when you kiss each red finger individually and tell her you love her

it’s the first time either of you have said it and she nearly melts - you both spend so long kissing that you forget about the food entirely until all the smoke alarms are going off

( you order take away )

calling robin “bub” because i want to

and ‘love’

stealing her socks everytime you’re over until she starts to run out only to find out you’re hoarding them all at a drawer at your place

“they’re comfy and colourful”

“i totally understand that, babe, i bought them for a reason after all.”

(she buys you some the next day - it solves the problem for at most a week)

holy fuck, her talking to you in different languages - i need it

she tries to teach you some french but you get too distracted and flustered, and she never stops teasing you for it

i mean just staring at her lips as she talks distracted, i’d be mesmerised

she feels the need to pick up every cool looking rock she finds (mood) and gifts it to you

and obviously you keep them, dotted across your dresser in your room

you pick her flowers and she presses them in her textbooks (because their the heaviest books she owns) before taping them carefully on the back of polaroids of the pair of you

that one was very specific but i would simply pass away if any did that for me

holding her through nightmares, stroking her hair and whispering reassurance in her ears.

“you’re okay, rob,”

“i’m here, you’re safe.”

“i wont let anything hurt you.”

kissing her tears away as you settle back down against the mattress, talking to her about everything and anything until she falls back asleep again

more cheery though: i reckon robin would be super comfy to fall asleep on, like it’s hard to make it through movie night without fall asleep on her shoulder

she loves it too, knows you must trust her to be that comfortable around her

anyway could do a part two but these are the general little things i imagine dating robin would include

taglist: @woahhhfidget @sireeeeee @lovelyy-moonlight @starselle @robinsprker @flourelle @robinbuckleysgfreall @robinbuckleyluvr @lesbiihoenestt @sumobug @milkiane

#robin buckley x reader #robin x reader #robin buckley imagines #robin buckley #robin buckley headcanon #robin buckley headcanons #dating robin buckley #robin buckley x y/n #robin buckley x you

[thenightling]

I'm going to sound like an old fart here but after seeing some posts of Nightmare before Christmas Valentine's Day merchandise and seeing a Youtube video complaining about there being too much Nightmare before Christmas merchandise allow me to give you a weird throw back.

Imagine being eleven-years-old in 1993. Nightmare before Christmas comes out and you are fast obsessed. One night during SNICK (Saturday Night Nickelodeon) you see a commercial for the action figures. Your loving mother buys you some of the figures at Toys R Us as fast as she is able. But then... A few months later it all disappears from store shelves. No Nightmare before Christmas merchandise anywhere to be found.

This was my teenage-hood. Between 1994 until 1999 Nightmare before Christmas merchandise was VERY hard to find. I had a shelf in my bedroom dedicated to what I could find. For part of the 90s I was lucky to find one item a year.

A neighbor even gave me a Sally doll without a head (her son lost the head) and my mother cleverly constructed a replacement head that looked surprisingly genuine for the doll. She used a pillow case the same color as the doll's skin, dark red yarn for the hair, a tennis ball for the interior head wrapped in a white sock for the whites of the eyes, it was really well done. I cherished her. And when my mother finally saw the original doll head on a reproduction from 2003 she was proud of herself at how accurate her own version had been going just by the movie appearance of the character and some old sketches from the Making-of book.

In 1999 or so Nightmare before Christmas became popular in Japan so new merchandise started to slowly creep over back the US, especially through Ebay (Nightmare before Christmas was one of the first big searches on ebay when it was new).

In 2003 there was the Nightmare before Christmas 10th anniversary and much of the 1993 merchandise that had become scarce was now being reproduced.

In 2006 Nightmare before Christmas was released again cinematically, this time in 3D. And Disney had finally put its name all over it, instead of their Touchstone division to distance themselves. This is actually an important distinction because the older merchandise with the Touchstone logo and no "Disney's" are still the more sought after collectables.

From that point on Nightmare before Christmas merchandise became... well, common. Particularly around Halloween. Today I can't even keep up with what's out there.

But when you talk about how over-marketed Nightamre before Christmas is, how "Hot Topic" it all is, and how Jack is more of a brand than a character, please remember that eleven-year-old who had to roam store after store just to find a plastic wrist watch in 1994. And how those of us who loved it from the start were starved for nearly a decade because it hadn't achieved "Cult classic" status yet.

Sometimes I think eleven-year-old me would be jealous but maybe she'd also be burnt out with how common it is now. It's not something private and personal anymore.

I still remember listening to the soundtrack on audio cassette with my walkman and some kid asking what I was listening to and when I said "Nightmare before Christmas" I got a "Never heard of 'em." I think how jealous eleven-year-old me would be of hearing Danny Elfman's original demo recordings (which weren't available until 2006), his annual concerts of the songs, and even the unreleased unused song "This Time" song. How twelve-year-old me would have killed for that.

#Nightmare before Christmas #Tim Burton #Danny Elfman

[dying-suffering-french-stalkers]

Tag 9 people you want to get to know better no <3 but please feel free to steal this and tag me in it!

Thank you @avisalix for the tag!

Three ships: I saw them come sailing in on Christmas Day in the morning Hmmm, let's see, what have I been vibing with recently? 3zun (Jin Guangyao/Lan Xichen/Nie Mingjue) from MDZS continues to fascinate me. On some level I am always rotating Lupin/Jigen (Lupin III) in my mind. Melia/Fiora (Xenoblade Chronicles 1) also delights me and tbh I can't truly imagine a postgame where they aren't together.

First ever ship: Ichigo Momomiya/Kish from Tokyo Mew Mew (the latter's name is also rendered Kisshu or—most accurately—Quiche, depending on which translation you read, but unfortunately for me ye olde Tokyopop dies hard). I shipped them bc Ichigo's token love interest was boring as hell in the original manga and also I was #not like the other girls and loved contrarianism (diagnosis: ace and annoying). I wanted to see the catgirl hero and the horrible little gremlin antihero KISS, goddammit (Yes I DID love Catra/Adora in the She-Ra reboot thanks for asking), and I remember losing my tiny shipper mind at Kish's big death scene in the final volume. I just realized that I never finished s1 of TMMN, I should do that.

Last song: “Soarele și Luna” by Pasha Parfeni. Another highlight from this morning's commute: The Cambodian Space Project's cover of Pan Ron's “I'm Unsatisfied.” My housemates have also been playing The Album by the Jonas Brothers nonstop and it's very pleasant.

Last movie: Not counting my Dark Crystal rewatch, it was Day of Anger (1967) on @girlfriendsofthegalaxy's ever-impeccable recommendation.

Currently reading: I'm half-reading (abandoning) a truly wild number of books right now, so let's talk fic instead. I just finished “Twilight on Owl Creek Bridge” (Star Wars by way of, you guessed it, An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge) by @yellowocaballero and it blew my socks clean off, so I'm now neck-deep in their queer Artemis Fowl redux “The Great Gender Heist” and having the time of my life. I'm also still working on several Lupin III fics by @dandunn! You know that photo of a girl being handed bites of, like, pancakes or something on about 12 different forks? That's me with good fic rn.

Currently watching: The Tatami Galaxy with @venhediss, to kick off a larger (casual) watch of Masaaki Yuasa's creative output.

Currently consuming playing: The Legend of Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom, though that might still count as consumption considering how voraciously I am digging into it. I love this game so much and I've barely even touched the plot so far.

Currently craving: The end of the workday (so I can go play more TotK). Some kind of soup or stew. Maybe a hug. A(nother) rare CD that will cost me an arm and a leg in international shipping. An English-subbed blu-ray release of Showa Genroku Rakugo Shinju.

#personal #boy i hope this posts

[annahxredaxted]

Forgot.

Parings: Asher/ baabe

Summery: asher forgot baabe and his anniversary. (Opps) 👀

I literally live for Asher angst. It's my fav.

So Tw/ forgot anniversary (dunno if that's Tw or nah)

Part 2

You walked through the door after a long dreary day at work. It was the worst. Your coworkers, and boss nitpicked ever itsy bitsy little thing you did. As if you were crazy, on top of that, Asher hadn't said anything about your guy's anniversary at all that day or the day before.

You thought maybe he was planning a surprise and  didn't want to attract to much attention, but it was Asher. He loves attention, he couldn't keep his mouth shut for anything, surprises, promotions,gifts, secrets, you name it he already told half the universe about it.

You grumpily took off your coat, and hung it up. 'Maybe ash already took care of dinner?' You silently thought to yourself. Stepping into the kitchen you realized that was not the case.

Your eyes brightened when you remembered the gift you had gotten ash, as a (I'm assuming 3-4) year anniversary present!

You kicked off your shoes and raced to your bedroom where you sneakily had hid the present. You were so ecstatic you could hardly contain yourself!

Suddenly you heard a noise. The door opening and closing. No, 'hey baabee im home!!' Just a loud sigh.

You speedily changed into your pjays before ash came into the bedroom. He was probably gonna go to the kitchen first anyways.

You gently, but quickly clutched the present towards your chest. Aghhh you could hardly wait to see his reaction for the gift.

You hid the carefully wrapped gift behind your back and slowly walking toward the kitchen, looking down, only seeing the floor and your fluffy socks.

The second you walked into the kitchen, you frowned, the dull look on ash's face was unbearable. He sighed and shook his head a couple times.

"Hey baabe. I'm kinda tired, prolly gonna go to bed." He stated walking past me after a quick kiss on the forehead.

Bed? No 'Happy anniversary baabe, so glad to have spent 4 years with you' just bed.

You scoffed. Then remembered you don't have the courage to back it up

"B-bed?" You questioned, with a lump in your throat. Did he forget?

"Yes. Bed. You coming?"  You glanced over to the clock. 8:23pm

"Right now? Today?" You questioned once more.

He looked rather confused. "Uhm?? Yes ..?" He slowly walked toward me.  "You okay baabe? Any cold sweats?" He asked feeling the back of his hand to your forehead.

You didn't believe it. All this work, put into making this gift for the love of your life, for 4 years, and he just 'forgot'

You mustered up the strength and straight up asked him.

"Did you forget Asher?" You used a firm voice, one he knew meant you were dead serious. You tried so hard not to cry. Did he actually forget?

He chuckled and looked around "forget what?" He was more confused.

You felt a stab in your back. Your heart sank. Eyes probably glistening with tears about to betray you by falling, a lump in your throat yearning to cry.

You looked down and nodded. 'Of course,' you thought 'why is it always me that's not important enough to remember?'

"Baabe?" He broke through your intrusive thoughts.

He put a hand on your shoulder. Knowing you were gonna cry.

"Hey,Hey, what did i forgot? Birthday? Promotion? Date nigh-," you cut him off

"Our anniversary ash!," you paused. He looked shocked, then guilty. ,"I have spent months putting this stupid present together. But who cares, happy anniversary." You remarked as you threw the present at him, he caught it, you ran off to your room.

Asher's POV

The fuck? HOW AM I SO STUPID OH MY GOD I FORGOT- SHITTT I AM AN ASSHOLE.

i slapped my face.

I looked down to see the nicely wrapped present still, in my hands.

As I carefully undid the paper I found a scrapbook.

"aww baabe.." I whispered.

There was a picture from our first date, the picture of the paper I put my number on, a movie ticket from the movie we saw on their birthday,so much stuff from the last 4 years of our lives and I just

Forgot?

WHAT KIND OF AN ASSHAT AM I???

I can't believe I forgot..

////////////////////////////////////////

#redacted asmr #redacted asher #redacted baabe

[maryellencarter]

Memed from @thisbluespirit : "Share ten different favorite characters from ten different pieces of media, in no particular order, then tag ten people."

Do I even have ten blorbos? Surely I must. I don't have handy gifs of most of them, I don't think. How far back in my fannish history am I going to wind up going here?

1: Jigen Daisuke, from Lupin III. I've told this story in a few different places, but about six or seven years ago -- I think it must have been 2015 because some of the promotional material from Part 4 looks awfully familiar -- VirusQ was reblogging an assortment of Lupin stuff. Now, VQ and I have *extremely* similar taste in sharpshooters. I saw about a five-second clip from Jigen's Gravestone, the bit where Jigen is explaining to Lupin why he lost the first quick-draw duel in that movie (I'm pretty sure it was the Japanese subbed version but it could have been English with dubtitles, I know the audio was written down because like fuck would I have remembered Jigen's name six years later if it wasn't), and I said to myself, "If I see *any* more of this man I am going to have a new hyperfixation, and I do not have the spoons for that right now," and I blocked the Lupin III tag on Tumblr for the next six years.

Then, late last year, Leia asked me "hey would you buy me an action figure for Christmas if I asked", and she linked me a figure of one Goemon Ishikawa XIII, whom I had never heard of in my life. But I clicked through to the Amazon listing, and you know how those have the long stringy search-engine titles, so it was something like "Banpresto Goemon Ishikawa XIII Lupin III", and I was like "I know that name, Lupin III" and I had a feeling as of impending fate. (Not to be melodramatic, but I really did. I have a habit of putting off many visual medias until the stars align, and sometimes they actually do align and it's a very particular feeling.) And then I scrolled down to "other people also bought" and went I KNOW THAT SKRUNKLY ASS MOTHERFUCKER ^_^ and then I very cautiously made noises (not to get Leia's hopes up too far) indicating that I would be amenable to being shown the thing, and then she did, and now I've seen 95% of it and we're in the middle of publishing a 50k novel about it :D

(Also I've dragged at least two other people into it after me. The First is one *hell* of a gateway drug. XD)

2: Wes Janson, from about ten seconds of Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back, and also four tie-in novels by Aaron Allston from the '90s. If you've seen ESB, you presumably remember the scene on Hoth where they use the snowspeeder tow cables to wrap around the AT-AT's legs and knock it down. Wes is the gunner who actually makes the shot that anchors the tow cable to the AT-AT's foot. This is his entire existence on film. However, because Star Wars, his personality and backstory was greatly expanded in the tie-in novels (and some comics which I read much later and so only regard when they happen to add important details like the existence of socks in the GFFA). He became Rogue Squadron's class clown with some underlying survivor's guilt and PTSD that presents *really* similarly to mine, plus the ability as a trainer to turn a ragtag band of misfit pilots into a found family -- an ability which his friend and boss Wedge Antilles weaponizes as the premise of the Wraith Squadron trilogy, because Wedge never saw a character trait he didn't think tactically about.

I first read the tie-in novels in 2007 or thereabouts, while being extremely isolated and struggling with undiagnosed PTSD, ongoing emotional abuse, and an assortment of other mental health bullshit, and latched onto Wes *hard*. I've wandered in and out of the fandom several times over the years; I originally wanted to grow up to be Wes but didn't think that was possible. When it occurs to me to think about it, I'm still quite thoroughly confused that I've not only grown up to be him but have also managed to acquire my very own Hobbie Klivian. (That's the guy in the background of Princess Leia's briefing scene on Hoth who says "Two fighters against a Star Destroyer?" In the comics and at least one of the novels, he's Wes's BFF, wingmate, and partner in crime. He's laconic, sarcastic, pessimistic, and has up to three prosthetic limbs and possibly a prosthetic dick, depending on which parts of canon you accept and which ones you think are an editing error, a stupid throwaway line, etc. Star Wars! *jazz hands* Hobbie is a massive troll, but quiet enough that people usually notice the much more flamboyant Wes first.)

Did I mention Wes is also a sharpshooter? For some reason, I have a *type*, and very little about it is physical appearance -- I think "sharpshooter with a soft spot for people who need help, probably has PTSD, also a knack for unexpectedly wise insights possibly delivered in a rusty baritone" is probably gonna be at least half the guys on this list.

3: Zaeed Massani. Case in point. Zaeed is a DLC character from Mass Effect 2, voiced by the late and greatly lamented Robin Sachs, who was an absolutely amazing voice actor (possibly better known as the recurring chaos sorcerer Ethan Rayne in Buffy the Vampire Slayer and the main villain whose name is escaping me in GalaxyQuest, although there's something wrong with the mike setup or the ADR in GalaxyQuest so you don't really get the full effect of his amazing vocal range). Uh. Where was I? Right. Zaeed is yet another sharpshooter, a merc in his forties or fifties -- Mass Effect continuity being what it is, he has at least two wildly contradictory backstory timelines. Point is, twenty-odd years ago as of ME2, he founded a mercenary group which became very large and successful, and his co-founder double-crossed him and shot him in the face at point-blank range. Being made primarily of steel wool and hatred, Zaeed survived this with only the loss of an eye, which you'd think would be a problem for a sharpshooter, but nope, he's still one of the best there is at what he does.

As of ME2, Zaeed has been trying for twenty years to find and get revenge on the man who double-crossed him. Being a DLC character, he has a nice compact little story where you can either help him get his revenge -- having to let a factory's worth of trapped workers burn to death in order to do so, because video games -- or save the trapped workers but let the enemy get away. When I first played ME2 on a severely underclocked computer, I had planned to take the "Paragon" route where you save the workers (me being me, I had read a walkthrough of the mission beforehand), but there's a puzzle minigame you have to solve to open the door to that route, and my computer lagged too much to get through the minigame, so I had to take the "Renegade" route where you take a quicker path through the burning factory, help Zaeed get his revenge, but have to listen to the distant screams of the dying factory workers the whole time.

I've since played both routes, but Robin Sachs absolutely *nailed* the voice acting, the script was fantastic as well ("Don't you call that a goddamn grudge!" hits me really hard for personal reasons), and I always wind up going Renegade because... well. Depictions of PTSD mostly have a tendency to trigger my own PTSD (it's complicated), but some of them land just right. Plus, listening to him tell the story about Jessie, his first gun that ge finally had to retire a couple of years before ME2... god, he absolutely breaks my damn heart every time.

Actually, I should probably tell the story about Jessie, too. It's this weird recursive piece of causality. So, okay, when I was very first getting into Mass Effect 3 multiplayer, this would have been in early 2013. There used to be these weekend challenges where you competed to get a certain number of points with certain weapons, or killing certain enemies, or whatever. I hadn't played any of the singleplayer games yet, didn't know any of the characters, I was just messing around in what is still objectively the best co-op shooter multiplayer ever created. Early March 2013, it was announced that one of the voice actors had just died and there was going to be a memorial weekend challenge, so many kill points with this specific gun and so many with this specific power. Well, I didn't have any kit with the required power (it took me literally another year to finally unlock one), but I had the gun because it's one of the five starter guns you unlock on your first multiplayer login. So I'm always down for a memorial event like that, so I did what I could. Didn't get very far that weekend, but I did find that I liked the gun -- a basic shooter game assault rifle, very "spray and pray" style (which was about all I could do on this extremely laggy underpowered computer), kind of a peashooter as far as damage per bullet but with a really big clip and easy to aim.

So then I carried this gun as my default for quite a long time, and of course anytime people were talking about their favorite guns in the game they just had nothing good to say about it (because, gamers being gamers, there are like two or three guns that are really best suited to the highest difficulty level, and this gun really is only suited to the lowest difficulty but that's what I played). So then when I finally got around to playing singleplayer, and I got to Mass Effect 2... even before you do Zaeed's DLC mission, as soon as you recruit him, you can go and talk to him about various items scattered around his room, get some war stories and characterization out of him. And one of those items was his first gun, which he named Jessie, which was this same model of starter assault rifle. He spoke so fondly about it that a big part of why I initially latched onto him is that I'd finally found someone else (even though a fictional character) who appreciated this gun. Which, of course, I only appreciated so much because of the memorial weekend challenge for Robin Sachs, where we had to use Zaeed's gun.

Damn, now I want to play Mass Effect again. I take Zaeed everywhere in ME2, every mission that you get to choose a squadmate on (there are some where you can only take required squadmates). Because squadmates don't have bullet/power travel time but the player character does, and because my computer was so laggy, telling Zaeed to shoot a particular enemy off me was often the only way I stayed alive.

Am I gonna be able to fit ten blorbos in a single tumblr post at this rate? Fuck if I know.

4: Wolverine / Logan, from the X-Men (comics and various assorted animated shows, I've never gotten into the live action X-Men stuff). Not a sharpshooter, for once. ^_^ So back in 2004, Spider-Man 2 (the Tobey Maguire one with Alfred Molina as Doc Ock) came out, and somebody recommended it to my mother, who became absolutely obsessed with all things Spidey. So a friend of hers was taping the '90s Spider-Man animated TV show off cable at the time, and I wound up getting assigned the rather drudging work of cutting the commercials out of said show using some video editing software we had for reasons, so we could burn it to DVD-R without having to sit through a bunch of ads. I still owned that set of homemade DVDs until I lost all my most treasured stuff a few years back, actually, but it's on Disney+ now, so there's that.

Point is, the '90s Spider-Man cartoon did a crossover two-parter with the '90s X-Men cartoon, and I *really* have a thing for those growly baritones, okay? So I wound up finding the bulk black-and-white "Essential X-Men" reprints of Chris Claremont's run at the library -- they had volumes two and three, which turned out to be the perfect introduction for me, covering most of John Byrne's run as artist (including the classic Dark Phoenix Saga, which literally every X-Men adaptation apparently has to cover at some point) and all of Dave Cockrum's second run, and more to the point, covering the most pivotal part of Wolverine's character development from a feral hypothetically-teenage asshole with no known name to something pretty much approximating his "standard" characterization in the years since. As an autistic tortellini dealing with constant forced overstimulation and unpredictable meltdowns, I really latched onto the portrayal of Logan's struggle to control his "berserker rage" meltdowns caused by his enhanced senses.

Of course, Herself was always terrified of anything that she feared might get me in touch with my violent side, and for good damn reason -- both my parents strongly deserved to have me snap and kill them, and I'm convinced that she at least knew it. (I have not, for the record, killed anyone irl. Yet. You never know.) She forbade me to read X-Men comics, I attempted to set An Boundary on my eighteenth birthday by telling her I would respect her rules and not bring them into her house but I was an adult who needed to make my own moral decisions and I would continue to read them at the library, and she very conveniently started the Remodel of Doom a few months later which kept me 100% isolated and under her control for the next five years as well as permanently ruining my health... but also forced me to spend most of my waking hours at the library because the house where I was living didn't have running water or, uh, installed toilets for a lot of that timeframe, which meant I found a compilation of "40 Years of X-Men" on CD-ROM at the library and read *the entire fucking thing*.

With that kind of isolation and that kind of input, I wound up developing a headmate version of Logan, who helped me massively with surviving and getting out of that whole situation. He very, very rarely shows up anymore, which is a really good sign, because it means I haven't been in that kind of a survival situation in... several years at least. I still think of him as my big brother, though (which is from a whole other situation I may have mentioned where my sisters and I had this incredibly complicated multi-crossover found family storyline going on... it says a lot about our general situation that the one who insisted no abuse was happening and I couldn't even use the term "a bad situation" about my experiences, was also the most heavily involved in creating a world where none of us had any interaction with our RL bio-parents.)

(My name in that storyline was Estel, which is Sindarin for "hope". On the nose much? ^_^ Logan still calls me Essie, which nobody else who's still in my life does. I've tried on a royal fuckton of names over the years. If I was going to change my legal name again, I'd probably take the last name Logan. Unless I made it my middle name and chose something that's not a first name for my last name -- my current legal name consists of three names that can all be first names, and the confusion it causes at doctor's offices is a pain in the ass.)

... that's only four blorbos, but I am out of spoons. I'm pretty sure the other six would fit the pattern as well. Let's see if I can at least make the rest of the list, if not say anything about them.

5: Adam Cartwright, from Bonanza. The original reason I wanted a hat, before Logan even entered the scene. Another sharpshooter, soft-spoken, mechanically minded (I have been known to say that my type is guys you'd want around to help you rebuild after an apocalypse, specifically a lot of them have engineering and/or childcare skills), and -- man, I don't know if it holds up, I don't even know where the hell I'd watch it since my VHS tapes are long gone, but I loved the hell out of early Bonanza back in the day. It hit the same kind of "eye-opening social justice for an extraordinarily sheltered tortellini" buttons as Howard Pease's 1930s YA mystery novels. The very first episode I ever saw was about the ways USian society treats felons after their jail sentences are up -- I can still hear the guest star saying bitterly, "They say you do your time and you pay your price, but don't you believe it!"

6: Richard Dean Anderson as MacGyver and Jack O'Neill, which are two very different characters but I'll put that down as a twofer.

7: Gandalf, because he is a delightful bitchy-ass troll. We read The Hobbit and LOTR out loud as a family when I was ten, which was possibly the best thing that ever happened to me as a kid, and I was hooked right from "Do you wish me a good morning, or mean that it is a good morning whether I like it or not, or that you feel good this morning, or that it is a morning to be good on?" (I am still *insanely* proud that, with no other spoilers than the fact that the blurb for ROTK in the back of The Hobbit mentioned Gandalf, I recognized him on his return as Gandalf the White at the same moment Aragorn does and for the same reason -- his "laughing long and softly" there is distinctive, he does it in that first conversation with Bilbo in The Hobbit as well (at least I think it's the first conversation, I have my one-volume of LOTR but I don't own The Hobbit currently).

8: Does Marvel count as one fandom? Seems like it's supposed to, these days, but I'm gonna put down Venom as well. I named my hat after him. Well, *I* didn't, exactly -- my sister had a brown cowboy hat of which the brand name was Eddy, so when I got my black cowboy hat, he was promptly named Venom. I didn't mind, because in the '90s Spider-Man cartoon, Venom is voiced by Hank Azaria nomming on all the available scenery and then some, and I do love me some good scenery-chewing. Also Eddie Brock is just kind of a dork in any incarnation, and depending on your version and timeframe, he's also very much the Catholic guilt superhero, which you can see why that grabbed me.

Anyway, then Herself decided my hat was in fact a symbiote and wouldn't sit next to him in church (another reason I wanted a hat was for taking it off in church purposes, because when that's about the only way you can express masculinity as a very suppressed trans tortoise, you do what you can). Well, she always said she didn't actually believe he was a symbiote, but in a defensive sort of way, and she really wouldn't sit next to him. So that's why my hat has pronouns. That and the fact that he was basically my only remotely physical companion during the Remodel of Doom. Have you ever had to figure out the logistics of crying on a hat's shoulder? I have. Much of my hat-wearing experience lends itself well to writing Jigen, but I'm not so sure about that bit.

(Technically I retired Venom-the-hat earlier this year, he has a spot on the closet shelf now, but the new hat seems to be inheriting the pronouns. Nearly twenty years of habit doesn't go away easy. The new one doesn't seem to have a name for now, presumably because I have other friends.)

9: Merryweather from Sleeping Beauty? Man, I am either running out of blorbos or not thinking of some. Merryweather was partly a color coding thing -- my birth name was a variant of Mary and my next sister's was a variant of Rose, so whenever there were things like toothbrushes to divvy up, I got the blue one and she got the red or pink one. Suited me just fine, not being the pink-coded one after she came along. Anyway, so in Sleeping Beauty, obviously Flora was "her" fairy and Merryweather was mine, but Merryweather is also very relatable -- the most aggressive of the three fairies, the one who it's implied does all the chores for the sixteen years Aurora is growing up, and also she's just a little cutie.

10: Dr McCoy, from Star Trek: The Original Series. My space doctor. *The* space doctor by whom all others are measured. I could do a whole essay if I wasn't so tired. Best space doctor.

#meme

[suckitsurveys]

What would you say is the worst part of high school, period? The constant fear and anxiety from every fucking aspect of it.

What is your favorite color of apple? Red, green or yellow? Green, and some red ones, like honeycrisp.

How old will you be on your mother’s 68th birthday? Is that ‘old’ to you? My mother died when she was 61 so technically she didn’t have a 68th birthday, but I was 30 on that day.

Ever thought you were dying of something you weren’t even close to having? Sure.

Ever want to be a doctor? Is it because of all the hospital shows? I wanted to be an animal doctor for a bit as a kid but never a human doctor.

What do you think of all these reality shows that try to alter personality? I’m not sure what you mean.

Where are your favorite pair of shoes in the whole world right now? In my closet.

Do you live anywhere near a mall? Which one exactly? Yeah, I do. There’s a few in the Chicago area.

If you were dying who would you say goodbye to first out of everyone? I don’t fucking wanna think about that thanks.

Are you someone who actually likes to babysit children? Just my nieces.

Do you ever have those ‘ah ha!’ moments? Do those annoy you? Depends on the moment?

When is the next time you’ll eat a cupcake, if you know when? I'm not sure but there’s nothing really stopping me from going to get one at any given moment..

Does your family go on a lot of vacations? Are they more boring or exciting? We did every summer when I was a kid and we try to go somewhere as a family once a a year. We’re actually all going somewhere in a couple weeks!

Where did you last buy socks from? What do those socks look like? I don’t have a specific place I get socks from.

Do you ever lay in the grass and look up at the sky, just because? Not really but I’m not opposed to it.

When do you normally go to sleep on the weekends? Anywhere between 11-1am. I’ll stay up a little later on Saturdays if SNL is on.

Have you ever met someone with the same ‘biggest fear’ as you? Sure.

Do you ever have movie nights with your significant other? Yeah, or TV show nights. Last night we watched a few episodes of Bob’s Burgers.

Would you rather write with a pen or a pencil? Why is this? Pen. I don’t like how pencils get dull so quickly.

Who was the last person to call you fat, if anyone at all? My 5 year old niece. I told her that there is nothing wrong with being fat but it isn’t nice to comment on people’s bodies.

Are you afraid of being kidnapped if you go outside at night time? Yeah.

Has your mother ever called your school because of your grades? I don’t remember a specific incident but it seems like something she would have done if she felt I was being graded unfairly.

The best field trip you’ve ever been on; where was it to anyway? I loved field trips to the zoo as a kid.

In the next twenty minutes, what will you be doing and where will you be? I’ll be here, probably doing another survey since I’m on a roll right now haha.

Do you work? If so, have you ever been fired, then rehired from the place? I do work, but have never been fired from here. I did get “let go” as a temp in the beginning but then they hired me full time not long after.

Can you tell when people are lying or telling the truth? That’s hard to answer. Some people can lie effortlessly.

What would you say your average word per minute time is on the keyboard? I don’t know.

What is your least favorite class in school? Why is this? Math because it didn’t really allow for creativity.

Do you bite your fingernails or tap them on desks? I tap them a lot lol.

Have you ever wanted to be in a band? What position exactly? Sure.

Do you ever call your cousins just to talk to them randomly? Not really.

When did you last spend the night at someone’s house? Uhhhhhhhhhh I guess technically in October when I slept in my friend's friend’s camper after me and my friend saw Pete Davidson in Kalamazoo. We weren’t really in her house but we were on her property.

Do you find any of your friends’ parents creepy or really mean? I don’t interact with my friends parents often enough anymore to find them mean or creepy.

Do you ever have to wash your clothes at someone else’s house? I wash our clothes at my dad’s house because the washer in our building is so small and only holds like 2 pairs of underwear.

When is the next time you’ll go to the library? Why is this? I don’t have plans to do that.

Do you know how to play pool? Are you any good at it? Yes but I wouldn’t say I’m great at it.

Are you someone who likes to get in arguments or fights a lot? Not at ALL.

#surveys

[handsomelyhiddleston]

Smitten - Tom Hiddleston x Curvy Reader

Filming sex scenes wasn’t the easiest task. There are weird nude undergarments or socks or tape or sometimes just a nude co-star…With Tom, though? There were nerves and feelings and a deep down hope that he couldn’t tell that you were incredibly turned on as he mimed fucking you twelve ways to Sunday.

“Cut! That’s a wrap on today. Great work guys!” the director called.

Tom collapsed onto your chest, laughing as the tension left his body. “These never get easier.”

“I don’t know” you teased, playing with his hair as everyone left the set so you two could leave the bed with some of your dignity. “It’s a lot easier with you.”

Tom held himself up on his elbows. “Don’t tell me your past romantic co-stars have been less than gentlemanly.”

“Not all of them.” You shrugged. Being a ‘larger than the Hollywood standard’ actress had put you in some…not very flattering roles in the start of your career. Sure, now you were the romantic lead with a conventionally attractive male actor, but lets just say you’ve dealt with a lot to get here.

“Well, I hope you know you deserved better.” Tom kissed the back of one of your hands, rolling off of you.

“Coming from you, I may actually believe it.” You laughed, gathering the sheet around you as you left the bed, grabbed your robe, and started walking towards your trailer.

The two of you filmed the movie…Where you’d usually fall asleep in one of your two trailers watching other movies…

The two of you attended interviews…Where Tom would almost always defer to you and even stuck up for you when a few interviewers were borderline sexist or would comment on your appearance…

The two of you even walked a few red carpets together…Tom’s hand always placed at your middle or  on your hip or in one of your hands...

He invited you out to eat with him before or after any shindig the two of you went to…

He’d walk you to your hotel rooms with kisses left on your cheeks…

He’d even tried to convince you to spend the week before the premiere in London with him…

In your mind, Tom was just too nice. He was nice to everybody. It all seemed very friendly…Until…

You hadn’t been watching the interviews as they’d been posted. Some interviews you did together with Tom and others you’d been split up and put with other actors from the movie.

Your phone pinged…

*best friend* - HAVE YOU SEEN TOM ON FALLON?!?

Before you could reply, your phone started blowing up.

You scrolled through the texts until you saw Tom’s

Tom – Darling, I hope you know how much you mean to me. Regardless of what your answer is, I’d never want to lose your friendship. It’s not every day you get to work with one so incredibly kind and thoughtful and talented and beautiful and…every moment I’ve spent with you has been a privilege. Please put me out of my misery and let me know you’ll at least let me see you again.

“What the fuck?” you asked yourself, opening your laptop and googling “Tom Hiddleston and Jimmy Fallon”

You saw that the Fallon YouTube channel had just posted Tom’s segment of tonight’s episode…

“How are you doing, buddy?” Fallon asked, pulling Tom into a tight hug.

“I’m doing incredibly well at the moment, actually.” Tom answered, sharing that the movie you two had filmed together had done extremely well on its opening weekend just a few days earlier.

“I know! It was amazing. I’ve seen it twice!” Fallon replied, always enthusiastic.

“I’m so glad you liked it. Y/n is incredible, right?” Tom turned to the audience, loving that they cheered when he brought you up.

“Oh my god, you two are so good together. I kind of thought maybe you two were…you know…” Fallon waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Tom threw his head back laughing, fidgeting with his tie and avoiding looking into the audience.

“Come on, you can’t tell me you two don’t have SOME sort of real chemistry. I saw the movie.” Fallon gave Tom a look like *Don’t lie*

“Well, perhaps we’re just incredible actors and you’re simply complimenting our craft.” Tom shrugged, trying to look anywhere but at Jimmy.

“Well, yes. The acting in the movie is amazing, but I don’t think that accounts for this.” Jimmy turned and pointed to the screen. It was a series of clips pulled from Tom’s interviews where all he did was gush about you.

“I missed being home, but it’s hard for anyone to stay upset when they’re around Y/n. She just lifts the mood in any room she’s in. You could say she makes anywhere feel a bit like home.” Tom had answered when a woman asked him if it was hard being on site away from home for 5 months.

When another interviewer asked Tom what his favorite line in the movie was, he answered, quoting one of your lines. “When she delivered it for the first time, it kind of took my breath away. I felt very unprofessional. I had to apologize and ask to start over. I couldn’t remember what I was supposed to say next. She tends to have that effect on me.” Tom laughed, a slight blush on his cheeks.

The final clip was one of an interviewer simply asking Tom how his day had gone. “I feel all out of sorts, if I’m being honest. Y/n isn’t here today because she woke up not feeling the best and with Covid still being an issue, she didn’t want to risk getting anyone else sick.” Tom answered with a sad smile on his face. When the interviewer shared that they hoped you would be okay and feel better soon, Tom answered with “I’ll make sure to pass on your sentiments when I bring her food later on.”

“COME ON!” Fallon laughed, throwing his arms up.

“I know, I know. I’m not very good at hiding how I feel, I guess.” Tom admitted, leaning back against the couch and laying his arm across the top. The crowd went wild.

“So, you admit it! Are you two together?!” Fallon asked, sitting on the edge of his seat.

“Unfortunately, not.” Tom answered, ducking his head as his cheeks flushed.

“Why?!” Jimmy asked. “You’re clearly smitten!”

“Hey, it’s not my fault!” Tom rebutted, looking to the audience for support. “I’ve tried!”

“Aww, now I feel bad for bringing it up.” Fallon chuckled and looked at the audience as they collectively ‘aww’ed. “How could anyone turn down this?!” He gestured towards Tom as the audience cheered.

“Well, if I’m to be completely honest I guess I haven’t actually TOLD her how I feel.” Tom confessed.

“Wait, what do you mean?” Jimmy paused.

“Well, I thought she’d catch on. I assume she has.” Tom laughed, fidgeting in his seat. “I’m pretty sure everyone else that knows the two of us can tell I’ve fallen completely head over heels for her.”

“Tom, Tom, Tom.” Jimmy shook his head.

“What?” Tom asked, nervous about what the answer would be.

“I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but I think you may just be horrible at flirting.” Fallon said with a straight face, the audience busting up laughing after.

“Do you think?” Tom replied, eyes gone wide in exaggerated surprise.

“I mean, I think you’re just so nice.” Jimmy laughed, trying to stay serious…“that everyone thinks you’re flirting with them…Which means, when you’re trying to flirt it just blends in.”  

“Well, how would you suggest I stand out then?” Tom asked, putting his elbow on his knee and leaning his chin on his fist like he was really paying attention.

“I mean…” Fallon slowly pointed towards the camera. “You gotta shoot your shot, right?”

The audience went wild at the suggestion. “Oh, dear.”

“I can scrap this and we can just talk about the movie.” Jimmy offered, making sure Tom knew that none of this had to go on the air.

“I mean, if it’s truly that obvious to everyone what have I got to lose, right?” Tom answered.

“That’s what we like to hear!” Jimmy cheered with the audience.

“Well…Y/n.” Tom paused, a soft smile on his face. “I don’t quite know where to start. I feel as though I may have been remiss by not just telling you how I feel. The consequence of such is that now I’m doing it in front of all of these people *gestures to the audience*…and I’m sure you’re laughing at how red I’ve gone and how flustered I am so I’m going to get to the point. Darling, you’re an incredible woman. I could list a million reasons why, but hopefully later you’ll give me the time to tell you them in person. What I really want to tell you now is that you make me happy. You inspire me. You make me want to be the best version of myself and you even make me believe I can achieve it. I’d be honored if you’d give me a chance.”

Fallon had tears in his eyes and most of the audience did, as well. “I…That was so beautiful. I think we need to go to a commercial break.” He was all choked up and stood to give Tom a hug.

You pulled up Tom’s text, your fingers hovering over the keyboard. “Are you still in New York?” you text him. The two of you were there for interviews. You were even staying in the same hotel.

“I am.” He text back, but the ‘typing’ bubble stayed. “Did you watch it?”

“I did.” You answered. “Come over?”

You saw the ‘typing’ bubble pop up and then disappear a few times. Instead of a text, you heard a knock at your hotel door.

“So?” Tom asked when you opened the door. He looked nervous, a look you didn’t often see from him. He had his glasses on and his hair was an adorable mess. He was even already dressed in his night clothes.

You didn’t answer. Instead, you stepped forward and placed your hands on each side of his face, pulling his lips gently to yours. He quickly reciprocated, his hands finding your hips as he walked you backwards into your hotel room.

“And to think, I could have been doing that for a whole year already.” You teased him, connecting your lips again.

“Don’t worry, my sweet.” Tom answered, pressing kisses across your cheek and down your neck. His lips paused at the shell of your ear and his voice dropped. “It just means we’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”

#Tom hiddleston #Tom Hiddleston x reader #Tom Hiddleston imagine #curvy #loki

[poisonedapples]

Patton’s Home for Traumatized Kids

Chapter One: The New Kid

Story Summary: Roman has to have a completely new start. New school, new town, new home and a new family. As a kid in his first foster home, Roman isn’t prepared to trust these people and get hurt again, but he’s not the only kid in the house recovering from past issues. Regardless, their foster father Patton is ready to be the dad they’ve always needed, and traumatized kids learn to lean on each other for support.

Story Warnings: Past abuse of all types, trauma, and anxiety

Pairings: Familial LAMP

Chapter Summary: Roman moves into his new foster home. He is not having a good time.

Chapter Warnings: Anxiety, panic, implied past abuse, food, one vomiting mention, and talk of hidden cameras

Word Count: 6778

Notes: First chapter of a story I’ve wanted to make for my foster au! Thanks to Cornybird on Ao3 for beta-ing this one <3

“Logan, Virgil?” Patton called out from downstairs. “Can you come down here? I wanna talk about something with you!”

Virgil and Logan gave each other curious looks from their sitting places on the same bed. Virgil placed his phone on the nightstand beside him as Logan set his book down at the foot of the bed, both standing up to exit Virgil’s bedroom and head downstairs. At the dining room table was their foster father, Patton, smiling wide with a laptop and notepad in front of him.

“What’s up?” Virgil asked after he and Logan glanced at each other. 

Patton giggled to himself, “Sit down for a second and I’ll tell you! Nothing bad, promise. I think it’s very exciting.”

They quickly sat at the table on the other side of Patton. “So,” Patton joked, “I bet you’re wondering why I’ve gathered you all here today!”

Logan and Virgil spoke in unison. “You’re getting another foster kid.”

Patton blinked. “…How’d you guess it?”

“You’ve been really happy recently, but also very quiet about why you were so happy. You only get like this when you’re bringing another foster kid into the mix. You did the same thing when Logan came along.” Virgil said.

Logan nodded. “Virgil told me about his suspicions due to your behavior, and I agreed with him. I think we both expected you’d make the announcement soon.”

“Oh.” Patton rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “I didn’t think it was that easy to tell. Well, you guessed right! The new kiddo is moving in on Sunday!”

Logan leaned closer. “What’s their name?”

“His name is Roman Goldsberry. He’s fifteen, and he’s only been in the system for about five months. Though, before this, he was in kinship care with his aunt, so living here is going to be very strange for him. So just be patient with him at first, okay?”

“Yeah yeah, we will be.” Virgil smirked. “But you said he was fifteen?”

“Yup! He’ll be a sophomore in high school this year.”

“Aw, that means Logan’s still the baby in the family.”

Logan blushed. “I’m a teenager. I am not the so-called ‘baby’ of the family.”

“Sounds like something the baby of the family would say.”

“Falsehood!”

“Okay, okay, that’s enough.” Patton tried not to laugh. He knew how much Logan hated being the youngest, but it was hard to act like his reaction wasn’t funny. “Remember, Roman will be here Sunday, so be on your best behavior when he gets here. No spooking him.”

“Got it, got it.” Virgil slouched in his chair and thought. “One more question though. How fucked up is he?”

“Virgil, language.” Patton warned.

“Sorry! It’s just a question. We know you have a soft spot for the most effed up kids you can find.”

“I would have to say I’m curious as well.” Logan agreed. “It’s become a pattern.”

Patton sighed. “He’s not messed up, he’s a kid who’s struggling and needs support. If he wants to tell you two about his past, then he will.”

Virgil groaned. “Fine, fine. Can we go back upstairs now?”

Patton smiled. “Yes, you can go.”

“Great! I’m stealing your book, Logan.”

“Wait, you can’t do that!”

Virgil darted back upstairs with a maniacal laugh as Logan chased him, the sound of bickering teenagers traveling back up the stairs. Patton shook his head in amusement, still listening to the ruckus in case it got out of hand and he needed to step in, but Patton knew his kids. They may tease, but they’re not mean.

Patton continued working on his laptop once the noise quieted down again.

***

“I hate this.”

“I know you do, Roman, but I’m certain you can persevere and find happiness in this new home!” Roman’s social worker, Mr. Picani, smiled hopefully as he continued to drive him to his foster home. Roman was scooted as close to the window as he could possibly get, his legs crossed and clamped together so tight his thighs were getting sore. He didn’t trust Picani, and he sure as hell didn’t trust this new house. No matter what anyone told him.

“I already had a home! Living with my aunt was so much better than whatever could happen here.” Roman’s hands shook just thinking about it. He didn’t know anything about this new person, and the idea of being in a house full of strangers was enabling the more gruesome side of his imagination. He trusted his aunt, at least, but now he was going to a family who could be anyone.

Roman didn’t like the idea of that.

Picani frowned. “You know why your aunt couldn’t house you anymore, Roman. I know it’s not easy, but I think you’ll like this new place! It’s more up north in Foley County, and the area is nice. He also has two other foster children if that helps.”

“How old are the other kids?”

“Fourteen and sixteen, I think. You’ll get to know them more during your time there.”

Roman hummed, looking out the window and digging his nails into his shirt sleeve. He really hoped this foster dad hadn’t touched them before. Even forgetting about himself, a fourteen year old kid having to deal with abuse? Even after getting away from bad parents? He didn’t wish that on anyone.

“And if you ever feel unsafe,” Picani added, “you can always contact me, ‘kay?”

I already feel unsafe. “Okay. How much longer until we’re there?”

“About twenty more minutes. Just enough time to finish the rest of the Tangled movie soundtrack!”

Roman didn’t respond. Normally, he’d love to have a Disney soundtrack he could burst into song with, but he wasn’t feeling it today. And probably wouldn’t be feeling it for a long time.

He just wanted to feel safe. He felt safe with his aunt, but she couldn’t afford to keep him long after the trial since she gave birth to the twins. His aunt was always one of his favorite relatives, one of the few adults he genuinely trusted, now he was going to the house of some random guy named Patton, who he’d only heard of yesterday, and expected to be okay near him. Well, he wasn’t okay. And he wasn’t going to be, ever.

Roman leaned his head on the window and closed his eyes. His hands still shook a little and his chest felt weird, but fighting it now was pointless. Roman just hoped that if this guardian did try something, he’d do it quickly. The sooner Roman told on him to save himself and the other kids, the better.

Though, Roman still felt his hands tingle at the thought. The idea of “getting it over with” made him want to scream and cry. He wrapped his legs tighter together.

After a long time of trying to fight against his own anxious thoughts, Picani pulled into a driveway and stopped the car and Roman opened his eyes to take a look at where they were. He didn’t know the neighborhood, but it seemed like Picani was telling the truth when he said the neighborhood was nice. The house seemed huge, big bushes and flower patches in the front yard and a nice outside paint job. It looked like a house that a functional nuclear family would have, where the dad is a doctor and the mom stays at home with the kids.

Well, looks can be deceiving. Roman thought. Don’t get your hopes up.

“Here we are!” Picani unbuckled his seatbelt with a wide smile. “Grab your suitcases in the back, I’ll knock on the door.”

Roman nodded and got out of the car as Picani popped the trunk. He grabbed two red suitcases and a backpack, closing the car and wheeling it all up to the front door. Picani was there talking to a guy who Roman assumed must be Patton Sanders, and by taking just one look at him…Roman had never seen a person look so much like a dad.

 He was wearing khaki shorts and a light blue polo with tennis shoes and knee socks, thick-rimmed glasses sitting on his face to finish off the dorky look. Patton managed to pull it off, sure, but Roman felt a primal urge from binge-watching Queer Eye to fix that mess of an outfit. 

Before Roman could truly take in the fact that Patton’s knee socks also had kittens on them, Patton smiled wide once he saw Roman in the corner of his eye. “Hello, Roman! It’s so nice to have you, come on in you two!”

Patton stepped aside to hold out the door as Picani and Roman both walked in. Roman scraped his arm on the door frame trying to keep a reasonable distance from Patton, but neither of the adults seemed to notice how Roman was acting. Patton kept smiling away, and Roman tried to see how real that smile truly was. “So, Mr. Picani, I know I have some things to go over with you, so how would you feel if the other kiddos showed you around the house, Roman?”

…Kiddos? “That sounds fine to me.”

“Perfect!” Patton walked over to the staircase and called upstairs. “Logan, Virgil! Can you come down here please?”

Patton’s request was quickly followed by the sound of doors opening and closing. Two kids walked down the stairs; a boy in a black and purple hoodie, and another boy with thick glasses almost the same as Patton’s. They both stared at Roman curiously, and Roman wanted to sink into the floor.

Patton placed an arm over Logan and Virgil’s shoulders and Roman winced at the sight. “So, kiddos, this is Roman! And Roman, this is Logan,” Patton pointed to the kid in glasses. “And Virgil!” He pointed to the kid with the hoodie. The boys didn’t react much besides an awkward half smile directed Roman’s way. “How about you both show him around while I talk to Mr. Picani?”

Virgil shrugged. “Come upstairs, dude.”

Patton let go of both of the boys and walked off into the kitchen with Picani. Roman watched them from the living room for a moment, but he could feel two pairs of eyes staring at him from behind, so he turned around and followed the kids upstairs, bringing his luggage with him.

At the top of the stairs, a long hallway connected six doors on the second floor. Four of the doors were plain, brown doors, but two of them had very distinct personalities shown on the outside. One was covered in stars and planets, the door covered in a starry piece of wallpaper with a metal planet popping out of the background. The other was covered in caution tape saying keep out, with emo band posters poking out from under the tape. Two very different personalities.

“Your room will be this one at the very end of the hallway.” Logan opened the door to the room, turning on the light as Roman peeked inside. “You can place your luggage in here in the meantime.”

Roman nodded and walked inside to throw his luggage onto the floor. The room was very bare, with brown sheets on a twin bed and not much other furniture besides a desk and a dresser. There was a lamp on the desk and a floor lamp next to a door, and one of the opened closet doors showed that the top was covered in random boxes. Some newer-looking stuffed animals were also sitting on the bed; a soft bear and one of those squishy stuffed chickens Roman always saw in stores. It looked like an attempt at a welcoming gift, but new stuffed animals always put Roman on edge. He looked around the room, and the idea of sleeping here made Roman’s heart start to pound. He needed to check this place before he went to sleep that night.

Virgil smirked, taking Roman away from his anxious thoughts. “Damn, you’ve got suitcases? Living the fancy life I see.”

“…What?” Roman reeled.

Logan adjusted his glasses and crossed his arms. “Most foster children move their things using garbage bags. It’s rare we use actual suitcases.”

Roman looked down at his luggage. Suddenly, he felt guilty. “Oh, well…my aunt gave them to me before I moved out, so…”

Virgil shrugged. “What do you wanna see up here first?”

“We could show him our rooms. Or possibly the attic?”

“The attic is cooler.”

“What’s in the attic?” Roman asked.

“It essentially acts as a playroom.” Logan explained. “Board games and a…random assortment of items are all piled up there. It’s quite entertaining to search through, actually.”

“And it’s in the best place ever, come here.” Virgil motioned for Roman and Logan to follow him. He stopped at one of the doors, opening it and letting Roman peek over his shoulder to look inside. It looked like a normal walk-in closet, first aid and toilet paper on one side with batteries and rows of shampoo on the other. Virgil walked in with a smirk, “Now, check this shit out.”

Virgil jumped and pulled on a string dangling from the roof, unraveling a steep staircase through the closet leading up to a hole in the roof. Virgil started to climb the stairs as Logan followed suit, so Roman climbed right after them.

When Roman made it to the top, his eyes widened with wonder. Granted, it wasn’t anything too spectacular, surely not like something in Willy Wonka’s chocolate factory, but the fact that this hidden space existed made Roman feel excited. At his old house, he barely even had his own room to himself, so a place like this was paradise.

The walls were painted white with a giant window above a sitting area on the other side of the room. Shelves of items scattered the walls, and the rug on the floor was so clean Roman wondered how they even got a vacuum up here. It wasn’t anything like his old attic, stuffed with random items from over the years and covered in spiderwebs. Roman felt like he could spend most of his day here.

“We have a lot of various toys up here.” Logan said. He gestured to the boxes on one of the shelves. “Pokémon cards, a chess set, Magic the Gathering, lots of Lego sets, craft supplies, most of our toys make their way up here.”

Roman’s head perked up. “…Craft supplies?”

Logan nodded. “I believe we have paints and drawing utensils.”

Roman looked at the bottom of the shelf Logan gestured toward. There was a box of small painting canvases with paints and brushes, and though they definitely looked cheap, Roman saw them and grew excited as he took out a canvas and the paints in wonder.

“Kiddos!” A voice yelled from the staircase. Logan and Roman walked over to the stairs to look down, but Virgil stayed in his place on a beanbag near the window. Patton and Picani stood at the bottom, and Patton smiled. “Now, what are you all doing up there?”

“We’re showing him around the house.” Logan said matter-of-factly.

“You are, huh?” Patton crossed his arms. “Does he know where the bathroom is?”

Logan blinked. Virgil called out from behind both of them. “He knows where the important things are!”

Patton tried not to smile, but he lost that battle quickly. “Well, Mr. Picani is leaving right now, Roman.”

“How ‘bout you come down here and I talk to you in private for a sec?” Picani asked.

“Uh, alright!” Roman climbed down the stairs and followed Picani out of the closet, while Patton climbed up the stairs into the attic. They both stepped away to the other side of the hallway, and suddenly Picani’s face became very serious.

“Do you feel safe in this house, Roman?” He asked.

Roman clenched his fist and bit his cheek. No, he didn’t, actually. He didn’t know what Patton would do once the coast was clear from guests, and the idea of what could happen was freezing him from the inside out. The only place Roman would feel truly safe was if he was back in the hospital.

But Roman knew that wasn’t possible, and he couldn’t keep bothering Picani all the time for fears that couldn't be helped. He had to be on his own. Alone.

“I think I do. They…seem like good people.” Roman lied. He’d have to find another way to survive.

Picani smiled, not noticing Roman’s unease. He always was a great actor. “Amazing! Let me know if anything comes up, bucko, and I’ll talk to ya again soon! But until then…so long, farewell, auf wiedersehen goodnight!”

Picani walked downstairs and waved behind him, laughing at his own reference as he walked out the door. Roman watched him from the staircase until he could see the car leaving the driveway through the window, and Roman felt truly hopeless. This was a nightmare.

He stood frozen on the staircase for a while, staring through the window with a hope of Picani turning back and saving him. But no car came into the driveway, and Roman didn’t know what to do with himself anymore. What do you even do when living in a house full of strangers?

“Heya, kiddo!” Roman jumped at the voice coming from behind him, jerking his head back and pushing his back up against the wall. It was Patton, smiling wide with a concerned look in his eyes at Roman’s reaction. “I’m sorry, Roman, I didn’t mean to scare you! I just wanted to ask if you wanted me to give you the rest of the tour. I’ll show you everything you need this time!”

Patton laughed at himself, but Roman felt the need to vomit. Patton was close, way too close, and he didn’t know what to do about it. He didn’t want to be roaming around the house with him, vulnerable and nowhere to hide. He needed to be somewhere safe.

“Uh, no, I’m fine! I’ll figure it out myself!” Patton raised an eyebrow at him, but Roman didn’t care. “Where’s the bathroom?”

Patton’s voice became softer. He pointed to the left of him, down the opposite direction of Roman’s room. “It’s over there. Are you sure you’re alright? You look a little pale.”

“I’m fine!” Roman darted past Patton quickly and out of reach, rushing into the bathroom and locking it behind him. He pressed his back against the door and sat down, pressing his feet against the sink, ready to fight against the door if someone tried to open it. He wrapped his arms around himself tightly, trying to even out his scattered breathing. He knew Patton was outside of the door, he could feel it. He just needed to be somewhere safe.

Roman didn’t move from his spot on the floor, eventually curling into himself and resting his head on his knees. He was so tired, the whole day his heart had been pounding with anxiety and he was sick of it. What did it take to feel safe? Was it even possible for Roman to feel safe anymore?

He didn’t want an answer to that. He was just so tired.

 Roman closed his eyes and leaned his body against the bathroom wall, ignoring all his aches from the strange position and trying to give himself some comfort. His body was exhausted but his mind kept racing, thinking of all the things that could go wrong while living here. He tried to fight the anxious thoughts, but Roman figured it wasn’t that big of a deal. If he threw up in the toilet maybe they’d leave him alone for the day.

But Roman never got to that point. He rested on the floor and let his body shake, taking some deep breaths at times to feel less like he was suffocating. Eventually, a knock came to the bathroom door, and it took everything in Roman not to yelp.

“Are you still in there, Roman?” Roman could tell the voice was Logan, and that helped him relax a little more. He took in a big breath and tried to act normal.

“Yes, sorry. Do you need it?” He asked.

“I’m alright. I simply wanted to ask if you wanted to come downstairs and use the paints you seemed so interested in.”

Roman’s ears perked up at that. He forgot all about the paints, and it would be something that could ease his mind a little. But Roman wasn’t that dumb. He knew this was a plan to get him out of the bathroom. Though…he might not mind that much if he wasn’t alone.

“…Would you sit with me?” Roman asked. He doubted Patton would try anything so long as they weren’t alone together, and if he pleased them enough, maybe they’d leave him alone.

Logan was slow to respond. “I suppose I can if you wish for me to.”

Roman rolled his eyes at that sentence. What a nerd, he thought, standing up and slowly unlocking the door to the bathroom before opening it. He looked through the crack to check if Patton was standing behind Logan, but no one else was there. Logan stood there patiently with his hands clasped behind his back, and Roman fully exited the bathroom.

“I set the box on the dining room table. However, Patton is also there making a pizza for dinner.”

Roman froze. The same room as Patton? “… I’ll go, but you have to stay near me.”

Logan nodded. He led the way down the stairs while Roman followed, entering the dining room through the connected area in the living room. On the table was the box of painting supplies, and Roman ran toward them to start taking them out, trying to ignore the fact that he could see Patton in the corner of his eye. He grabbed a canvas and the cheap paints, as well as a plastic pallet and all the brushes. All that he needed was a cup of water, but…the sink was right next to where Patton was.

Roman drummed his fingers on the table. “…Logan, can you get me a cup of water?”

“Alright.” Logan stood up and grabbed a cup from the cupboard, filling it with water and handing it to Roman. Roman murmured a thank you, and Logan sat back down at his seat. He was grateful that Logan didn’t ask why Roman couldn’t get it himself.

“So, Roman,” Roman stiffened at the sound of Patton’s voice. “Are you an artsy kid?”

Roman gripped hard onto his paints, squirting out a lot more orange than he meant to. “I guess, yeah. I like art.”

“Do you like to paint, or are you more of a sketchy kinda guy?”

“Uh…all of it. Painting, drawing, coloring, I used to make a lot of stuffed animals too.”

“Awww, that sounds adorable!” The oven beeped and Patton put on his oven gloves and pulled out the pizza. “It’s probably best I don’t know how to make stuffed animals though. If I did, this house would be full of little stuffed puppies!”

Roman didn’t respond. He focused completely on mixing red and orange for a perfect sunset color, attempting to get a good gradient with the lack of shade variety. Once he filled in his sunset and blended it with a dark night sky, he mixed his white with a dot of gray and made darker clouds, dotting them above his rough-looking hill. He wanted to add more texture to the bottom of the canvas, maybe some trees, but he didn’t know how to make good ones without a fan brush. Maybe he could add some grass…

“Alright, the pizza is cooled down and ready!” Roman noticed Patton put a plate next to his painting, so he pushed all his supplies out of the way so he could eat. Patton set down more plates around the table as Virgil walked in. “It was a real pizza work if I do say so myself!”

Logan rolled his eyes and Virgil held back a snort, but Roman didn’t quite know how to react. He might have found the dad joke more amusing if he wasn’t so on edge.

Roman took a bite of the pizza. It wasn’t anything spectacular, just a store-bought one that you heat up in the oven and serve, but Roman didn’t realize he was so hungry until now. He had skipped lunch because his nerves about coming here were making his stomach churn, but finally having food near him was bringing back that hunger. Roman’s foot was still tapping violently under the table, but it was progress.

Everyone ate their pizza in silence. It was incredibly awkward on Roman’s end, no stories to tell as this table full of strangers kept making glances at him. Patton was the worst with it. He seemed to want to say something to Roman, continuously making eye contact with him until Roman looked away, but still not saying a word. He couldn’t take it. He hated it, but he hated this silence even more. Roman swallowed the pizza bite he was chewing and opened his mouth.

“So,” Roman started, “what do I…call you anyway?”

“Me?” Patton asked, his eyes lighting up. Why would his eyes light up at that?

“Yeah. Do I say Mr. Sanders, or…?”

“Oh, Patton works just fine! I hear Mr. Sanders way too often at work to wanna hear it at home too!”

“Oh, where- where do you work?” At least it wasn’t so quiet anymore.

“I’m a nurse practitioner for a clinic. It’s a lot of fun, just a lot of work. At least my hours aren’t as crazy as most nurses.”

“Oh that’s…cool.” Roman didn’t know how to continue off of that.

“It is! Is there anything else you wanna ask me, though? Maybe about the house, routines, anything?”

“Well…what are the rules here?” That seemed like a very safe question to have. It could save Roman a lot of trouble, and it could give him more of a read on the kind of parent Patton was.

“Oh, it’s not that much. You’re old enough to clean up after yourself, so make it a habit to pick up your own things and not put that stuff on other people. Be kind to everyone else, and the only rule I’m very strict about is no yelling. You can be loud sometimes, but no angry yelling at anybody here. The last one is to respect others’ privacy. Always knock on someone’s bedroom door before entering. But that’s really it, I think!”

How often do you break that last rule? “That seems reasonable, I suppose.”

Patton smiled. “I think you’ll do just fine here, kiddo. I know it’s hard to start over, but you won’t be alone during it!”

“…Thank you.”

“And I’m sure Virgil and Logan could help out a little bit, since they’ve been in the same situation! Right, you two?”

Virgil was halfway through trying to stick a whole piece of crust in his mouth. “…Uh huh.”

“…Virgil, chew your food.”

“Lo’an ‘old me I cou’ do it!”

“Do not drag me into this.”

Virgil hid his mouth behind his hand as he chewed for a long period of time. “You’re just avoiding your responsibility.”

Logan rolled his eyes. “Well, I’m finished, so try not to choke now.”

“Now I’m gonna choke just to spite you.”

“Please do not start a choking contest, Virge.”

Virgil groaned before swallowing the last of his crust. He followed Logan to the dishwasher and put his plate in, closing it and scurrying away back upstairs. Logan hesitated leaving the dining room, looking between Patton and Roman. Roman couldn’t tell if Patton noticed Logan’s hesitation or if it was just perfect timing, because he also got up and put his plate in the dishwasher.

“When you finish, Roman, just put your dishes away.”

“I can do that.”

Patton smiled and walked off into the living room, sitting on the couch to watch some TV show seemingly about cute puppies and kittens. Logan glanced at Roman again.

“Do you still want me to stay?” Logan asked.

Roman ate the last of his pizza and pushed his plate to the side, grabbing his painting again to put in front of him. It was the most effective thing at calming him down. “…No, I should be okay.”

Logan nodded and walked upstairs. Roman tried to fully immerse himself in his painting, focusing on every last detail and how he could make it better without over-detailing it. Roman put more green on his brush and started to dot at his hill on the bottom, trying to add little blades of textured grass. It was a long process, just enough to take the majority of his focus and calm his hands.

…Roman felt really weird here. It didn’t feel like he lived in this house, now. It felt like he was spending the day with some friends, and his aunt would come pick him up before the sun went down. But no, these new kids were his foster brothers and the adult he was terrified of was expected to act as his new dad. There was no one coming to save him, he was expected to sleep here and eat here and live here. This was supposed to be his safe space.

Roman rubbed at his eyes and shook his head. Don’t focus on that now, he thought. Focus on the painting.

So he did focus. He focused on monotonous texture additions and watching the paint dry on his canvas as he went along, letting the repetitive action calm his mind just a little bit. His calming method seemed to be working too well, actually, as the more details he added and stared at the paint, Roman realized that his constant panic today had completely exhausted him. It wasn’t even seven o’clock yet and Roman could feel his eyelids get heavier. He rubbed at his eyes again and tried to focus.

Roman yawned once. He yawned twice and rubbed his eyes as he kept adding minor details to his painting. Then, after a while, Roman scooted his painting to the side and laid his head down on the table.

***

“…Roman, wake up, please.”

Roman buried his head deeper in his arms. “Come on Roman, it’s late.”

Roman groggily lifted his head up. Patton was sitting in the chair across from him, the lights were all off except for the one light above the dining table. Roman looked around him, and noticed that it was dark outside now. Shit.

“You fell asleep, but that’s okay. It’s bedtime now, and the other two are already in bed, so how about you go get ready and sleep in your bed? I bet it’s comfier than the table.”

Roman dug his palm into his eye. “…What time is it…?”

“About 10:20. You all have bedtime at ten.”

“…But I’m fifteen?” Roman gave Patton a confused and sleepy look. He hasn’t had a bedtime since he was twelve, especially one that was so early. His mom only told him to be in bed by midnight.

Patton smiled. “I’ll let you in on a little secret. Logan is the only one who needs a bedtime, but I don’t want him to feel left out because he’s the only one asleep. So, how about you get ready for bed?”

Roman nodded and got out of his chair. The more he walked, the more he woke up, and he could tell by the time he went back upstairs that he wasn’t going to go back to sleep for a while since he could feel his heartbeat in his chest again. Patton followed him upstairs, turning off the dining room light as they went. Roman got his bathroom bag out from his smaller suitcase and a cotton shirt with sweatpants for pajamas, bringing it all with him to the bathroom. He closed the door as he brushed his teeth for the night, placing his bag in the bottom drawer after he did. He changed into his pajamas carefully, taking the towel on one of the racks to hide his lower half under as he switched pants, taking his other clothes and throwing them into a laundry basket.

When Roman stepped out of the bathroom, Patton was leaning against a wall waiting for him. He smiled at Roman, but Roman still ran past him to get as far away as he could get. Patton didn’t seem to notice, or maybe he just didn’t care. Roman shifted on his feet awkwardly before closing his door.

“Um…goodnight.” He finally said. Patton seemed satisfied with this.

“Goodnight, Roman.”

Roman finally closed the door to his bedroom, waiting until he heard the door on the other end of the hallway open and close. Almost immediately after, as if another force was controlling him, Roman started to tear the place apart.

He checked the charging ports in the walls, the lamp, under the bed’s covers and behind every piece of furniture. He stood on top of his suitcase to check the vents and took out all the drawers in the dresser. He punched the stuffed animals to see if he could feel wires, but he still couldn’t find it. He couldn’t find it.

Roman felt himself start to pant. He refused to go to bed until he found it. No matter how well hidden it was, Roman knew there was a camera in here. He couldn’t stop until he found it.

Roman grabbed the boxes at the top of the closet and tossed everything out of them, checking every spare blanket and binder before throwing them across the room when he found nothing. He took the hangers out of the closet and threw them on the floor, shining his phone light on the wall of the closet to find a hole. Nothing. Nothing, nothing, nothing.

Tears sprung into Roman’s eyes as he choked on his own breath. “Where the hell is it!?” He whispered, slamming the closet door closed and moving to check the bed. He tore the bedsheets off and checked the mattress, lifting it up as well to check the bed frame for anything that could be used to record. Nothing.

“Come on, please-” Roman took out the drawer from the bedside table. Nothing. He unscrewed the lightbulb from the lamp, almost shattering it from his tight grip. Nothing. He threw the lamp onto the bed and kicked the nightstand over. Nothing.

Roman choked out a sob as his whole body started to shake. This wasn’t fair, he spent all that time trying to get away from his dad only to end up in a place that hid cameras better than him. Roman gripped the covers he’d thrown and punched the floor next to them, the ache being an almost pleasant distraction from his own head. But his mind continued to race and his crying didn’t let up. The only thing Roman could manage to get out of his mouth was “No, no!”

Then, between Roman’s sobbing, he heard a knock at the door.

Roman froze in place. A feeling of dread spread through his chest and made his fingers go numb. For a second, Roman forgot to breathe as he remembered he forgot to lock the door.

Roman’s body was stiff, but his mind was going a mile a minute in a desperate attempt to save himself. He could hide in the closet, but since he tore everything out of there, if someone opened the door they’d immediately find him. He could hide under the bed, but without the covers to reach the floor it was easy to see he was under there. Roman choked on his own breath when he realized there was nowhere to hide-

“Roman?” The knock came back to the door, gentler than the first time. It wasn’t Patton’s voice like Roman feared, it was Virgil. Raspy and tired-sounding, but without a doubt Virgil.

“Y-yeah?” Roman squeaked out.

“Uh, can I…can I come in?”

Roman’s death grip on the covers loosened up slightly. “Yes…”

Virgil slowly turned the doorknob and opened it, slipping in through the smallest crack and closing the door slowly so it wouldn’t click. Once he was inside, Virgil’s eyes widened as he took in the sight of the destroyed room. “…Holy shit dude.”

Roman tried to dodge the situation, “What do you want?”

“I was gonna come in here and make a joke, like, ‘quiet down it sounds like a tornado is going through here’, but now I think I predicted the fucking future.” Roman put his head down as Virgil looked around in shock. “What the fuck happened?”

Roman wiped away his tears with the palm of his hands, digging into his eyes so hard he saw stars for a moment. “…There’s a camera in here.”

Virgil backed up more towards the door. “Wait, there is?” He darted his eyes around the room looking for what Roman was talking about. Roman let out a shaky breath.

“I haven’t found it yet, but I know it’s in here somewhere!” More tears went down Roman’s face as he hugged himself. Virgil seemed to realize what Roman was babbling on about. “I know Patton put a camera in here for me and I’m freaking out because I can’t find it!”

Virgil looked around at the mess again. He sighed. “I’m not good at this shit…you’re certain it’s in here?”

“Yes!”

“Hey, hey, don’t yell.” Virgil warned. “Pat and Logan are still asleep and I don’t think you’d like all that extra attention right now.”

He was right. If Logan and Patton came in here, Roman didn’t know what he’d do about it. It was the last thing he wanted, so Roman obeyed. “I just…I don’t know what to do…I can’t sleep until I find it.”

Virgil seemed to be thinking. He tugged on the neck of his pajama shirt before speaking. “How about we both make a deal?”

Roman lifted his head up to look at Virgil. “…Deal?”

“We’ll trade rooms for the night. There wouldn’t be a camera in my room if he’s trying to watch you, right?”

Roman paused. “…What if he’s watching you too?”

“I’ve lived here for two years. You think I wouldn’t have noticed a camera in my room by now?”

Roman thought about it. He did have a point, it was hard to go that long without finding the camera. Or at least, have your guardian have it slip that they’ve been watching you. And anything was better than staying in this place.

“…We can trade. Thanks.”

Virgil shrugged. “You know where my room is. Just slip in and don’t wreck all my shit.”

Roman laughed a little bit at that one. Virgil grabbed the sheets and covers off the floor and began to remake the bed as Roman grabbed his backpack and started to slowly open the door. But before he left, Roman had to say one more thing for his own piece of mind. “…Don’t touch my suitcases. I-I’ll know if you do.”

Virgil raised an eyebrow at him. “…I won’t.”

Roman opened the door and softly closed it behind him, slipping into the room next door covered in caution tape. He turned on the light and set his backpack down on the floor, looking around him at all the things that showed Virgil’s personality. Emo band posters covered the walls that were painted a dark purple, with dark wood furniture and Hot Topic decorations all over the place. Just looking at this room told him how angsty this kid was.

Roman shook it off and unzipped his backpack. He could deal with angsty decorations for the night, so long as this place could be safe from creeps. He took out his secret weapon from his backpack, something he secretly bought behind his aunt’s back with his babysitting money, the one item that made him feel secure in a home. He pulled out the security bar, locked Virgil’s door, and placed it under the door handle. Even if someone undid the lock, they wouldn’t be able to sneak inside while he was sleeping.

Roman’s heart calmed down a little for the first time in weeks. Even if it wasn’t much, he felt safe, maybe even safe enough to get some rest for once. Roman crawled into Virgil’s bed, covering himself in his very tasteful Jack Skellington covers, and tried to rest.

Roman’s hands still shook, and his head felt funny, but he eventually drifted off into a light sleep full of anxiety and nightmares.

#ts roman #ts logan #ts virgil #ts patton #thomas sanders #sanders sides #roman sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #logan sanders #emile picani #panic #implied past abuse #foster au #familial lamp #familial prinxiety #familial royality #lamp #Prinxiety #royality

[fruitoftheweek]

Little Cherry Book:

Chapter 5: Matching Memories

Chapter 1 Here / Chapter 2 Here / Chapter 3 Here / Chapter 4

Hey guys! Again sorry for the wait! Both my computer and my work schedule have been ass and every time I thought I was going to have free time, I absolutely did not. I was really looking forward to writing this chapter after all the appreciation I got from the last chapter and I am so excited to enduldge you with this 7,356 word chapter. I am also working on a fluffier oneshot that should come out in the next couple days which I am so excited to write! I hope you guys really like this chapter! Love you guys and thank you for 120 Followers!

Pairing: Spencer Reid X reader

Chapter Plot: After the previous nights' escapades, you and Spencer decide to talk about boundaries as your team questions your budding relationship

Series TW: 18+, smut, degradation, piercing, choking, knife play, mommy/daddy kinks, spanking, exhibitionism, Will update as time goes on

Chapter TW: smut, mommy kink, having body piercings, choking, slapping, Oral Sex (male and female receiving), Handjob, fingering, pleading, spanking, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, aftercare, language, non-intentional self-harm (hard to explain), PDA, degradation, smut smut smut.

Word Count: 7,356

Spencer loved to match everything but his socks. You found that out the morning after your late-night escapades. You weren't sure if your alarm hadn't gone off or if you two had just slept through it but you two were running late and the plane was leaving in 40 minutes with a 30-minute drive to the airport. The actual thing that had woken you up was Morgan banging on the door, notifying you that he had dropped off Spencers go-bag.

"Ow! Son of a bitch!" he shouted as he bumped his elbow on the table, hurriedly trying to get his socks on. You peeked around the door frame of the bathroom, checking on him to make sure he was ok as you shoved your toiletries into your bag. You watched, curiously as he stopped what he was doing and purposefully banged his other elbow on the same table. You made a mental note to ask him about it later, but right now, you had to go.

Along the way, you had noticed small habits that Spencer had to keep himself "matching." Once you saw it once, you couldn't help noticing it. How he brushed his teeth the same number of times on each side of his mouth. How he had to eat at least two peanuts at a time so that he could match the chewing on either side of his mouth. These were all harmless, but you worried when he bumped his right temple on the window of the cab as it went over a pothole, and you watched as he proceeded to turn his head and bump the other side. Most of the morning had been held in comfortable silence as you reveled in the afterglow of the previous night. So when you silently reached up to his head and brought it down to your shoulder, Spencer didn't mind. You made sure to gently rub his temple to apply even pressure to make sure his sides matched, a caring gesture that did not go unnoticed.

Luckily you two had made it to the jet on time, only catching a couple of questioning glances from Morgan and Elle as you rushed on, red-faced. You hurriedly sat next to each other as the plane took off, Spencer shoving both of your go-bags in the upper compartment as you held his book. He had brought Graziella, and had already read it 4 times; you, unfortunately, had brought nothing as it was your first trial case. He sat down, and you handed him his book, his fingers tentatively brushed yours in a silent question. Neither of you had fully discussed your relationship this morning in the rush and you could tell he was nervous to talk to you about it. As he pulled away, you captured his wrist before he could go too far, gently drawing a small heart into the inside of his wrist with your finger as you looked up into his eyes. He smiled slightly, understanding that you would talk about it when you had reached home.

This small gesture hadn't gone unnoticed as Morgan watched you from the other side of the jet. He stocked his way up to you with a shark grin on his lips as he smelled blood in the water. "So, You two woke up late huh? How come you never made it back to our room last night, pretty boy?" He mused, enjoying the light pink tinge resting on Spencer's cheeks. "You were the one who took both of our room keys and wouldn't let me in! And- and she was nice enough to let me sleep in her room even though it was a one-person room." He retorted, knowing Morgan's implications. "Woah, chill, Reid. I was just asking some questions." Morgan replied, feigning innocence. "Yeah, I took Reid's virginity last night. How could you tell?" You stated matter of factly, earning a shocked squeak from Reid, and spluttered out laughter from Morgan. "That's what you want to hear right? C'mon Spencer, he’s just giving us a hard time because he wasn't invited to our movie marathon last night." You lied, shooting a joking wink to Spencer, hoping he would get the drift and go along with the story. "Hey, we didn't- yEAh he wouldn't get the nuance of 'Une Femme est Une Femme' and the directorial skills of Jean-Luc Godard." He said, catching on when you pinched the soft spot under his ribs. Morgan just rolled his eyes, frustrated at not getting what he wanted before sulking back to his seat.

You smiled up at Spencer before saying, "Good boy," just loud enough for only the two of you to hear. It was the first time you had alluded to your escapades that yestereve and you both felt a breath of fresh air as the slight tension was lifted off of your backs. Spencer was flustered in multiple ways; he loved the way you praised him, and he now believed you felt regrets about your exchange.

He felt electricity crackling in every gentle secret touch of yours that he had the luxury of experiencing that day; all he could think about was how you had touched him and how your skin felt on his. You had him wrapped all-around your finger, and he couldn't be happier. All he wanted to do was service you and please you, even in non-sexual ways, which he was happy to indulge in as he watched you staring out the window. Your fingers were discreetly tracing small drawings on his knee cap as you watched the clouds pass by. The motion caused him a great distraction from his book, and all he could do was watch your finger. Even though you weren't paying any attention to the motion of your fingers, Spencer could still envision the lines you created carving into his skin. Sometimes a little face, sometimes an abstract geometric rhombus, and his favorite, a heart with puffy humps and a pointy end. Every time you drew it, he became hyper-aware of the gentle flush coloring your cheeks as you looked out the window, sending him a secret message.

He quietly cleared his throat, as to not disturb the others; most of which had chosen to indulge in a little extra sleep to make up for their early morning. It had broken you from your entranced gaze out the window and you looked over at him smiling. "D-Did you bring anything to do on the plane?" Spencer asked as you continued your drawings on his leg. "Surprisingly, that was the one thing I forgot. I was so worried about making sure I was well briefed on the case that I forgot all about the flight." You said, smiling sleepily. He couldn't help but think about how beautiful you were at that moment. The gentle sunrise behind you in the window illuminated the apples of your cheeks and the highlights in your hair, which was still messy from sleeping so soon after your shower. Your eyes were puffy except for the sockets, which were slightly sunken in from lack of sleep, and you were fresh-faced, small blemishes now in the open, but all Spencer could think was that you reminded him of the fresh air of spring in the morning after a storm. He shook himself from his trance as you began to turn back towards the window. "You know, if you would like, I can read to you." He said shyly. "I know you read faster in your head, don't feel like you have to read to me because I was silly and forgot to bring a book." You said, smiling at his gesture. "N-No, I want to read to you. My mom always used to read out loud to me when I was little when she would wake up early." He said, adding waveringly, "And... and I would like to read to you, not because you didn't bring anything, but because I think you would like this book." You smiled up at him, lifting the fingers you had been swirling on his leg to your lips before gently kissing them, pressing them to his cheekbone, and returning them to their reserved spot on his leg. He took that as a green light to read aloud.

You watched as he closed the page he had been reading to flip to the beginning. You knew he remembered what page he was on but his choice to start you from the beginning melted your heart. He really wanted you to appreciate this story so you were going to give 110% of your attention to the words flowing out of his mouth.

"Ok, this book is Graziella by Alphonse de Lamartine. I arrived at Naples on the first of April. A few days later, I was joined by a young man of about my own age, to whom I had attached myself at college with the friendship of a brother." He began as you listened intently, enjoying the gentle atmosphere created by the soft hum of the jet and snores of your colleagues. Spencer continued reading aloud to you on autopilot as he focused on the drawings of your fingers, now all turned to hearts.

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The problem with taking a morning jet home was that you would have to go straight to the office to finish your paperwork before finally being able to rest in your own bed. You all trudged out of the car and into the office in varying states of awakeness, dreading the hours of work to come.

"Welcome back, you guys!" Garcia said, miscalculating the tone in the room, earning her a couple nods and grunts in response.

"Hey, I'm going to my friend's apartment tonight, and she lives by you. Since you take the train home and I'm going that way, do you want a ride?" You said to Spencer, trying to seem as inconspicuous as possible. For a Genius and a Profiler, he sure was bad at picking up clues and hints. You weren't really going to see your friend, you just wanted some alone time with him to straighten things out, but he obviously didn't understand. "I mean if it's on the way, that would be nice. Thank you Y/L- Agent Y/L/N." He said, nearly forgetting to call you Agent in front of the others. You smiled and headed back to your seat begrudgingly, seeing the mountains of paperwork.

It was kind of sweet how oblivious he was. You were trying to be discreet at work, and you could tell he was trying too. Keyword: trying, as he was failing miserably. You could tell he was trying to be sneaky, but there was nothing sneaky about him following you to the coffee machine every time you needed a refill. He told you it was because he wanted to match and you couldn't help but indulge him. He wanted to match coffee, unfortunately finding out that you did not, in fact, like as much sugar in your coffee as him. You settled for a little bit too sweet and him not enough for the sake of matching. He came to your desk, trying to trick you by asking to borrow a pen, even though you could see his usual green pen in his shirtfront pocket. He was just so cute and just so obvious so you caved, but it was only because you wanted to see the beam on his face knowing there was yet another way you two could match. His boldest move yet was to match sweaters. If you had yours on, he had his on; when you took yours off, he would follow suit. Even though it was very cute, he was being far too bold so after a while, you decided to just keep it on.

Finally, after hours of handwriting reports and witness statements, your cramped hand said a thank you as you signed off your last sheet. You stretched languidly, looking over to Spencer's desk. He had been done for a while but was pretending to be busy so he could wait for you without subliminally pressuring you to hurry. You pulled your go bag and satchel together, getting ready to leave as you watched Spencer hold his bag, waiting for you to make the first move. You clicked your tongue at him as if you were calling a cat, "Let's get going, I don't want to be late to see my friend!" You called over to him as he shot up, padding quickly to catch up to you. "Goodnight guys! Sleep well!" You called to Morgan, Elle, and Garcia, the only ones left in the bullpen. "Ok, now something definitely has to be going on," Elle said as they watched you two leave, Spencer tripping over himself as he got in the elevator behind you.

You two shoved your bags in the back seat and got in the car. As you turned the car, your music started blaring out of the speakers. "Woah! Sorry! I like to drive with the windows down so my music is usually pretty loud." You said as you slammed on the pause button. Spencer was startled but he didn’t mind as he'd just learned new things about you. 1. You like loud music 2. You like the windows down when you drive. 3. You have great taste in music. "That's ok. Just make sure you turn down the volume sometimes, 17% of adults aged 20–69 years have suffered permanent damage to their hearing from noise-induced hearing loss. And that was... certainly loud enough to cause some noise-induced loss. Make sure to take care of yourself." He said and that was the straw that broke the camel's back. His naive sweetness and caring nature had been gnawing at you all day. All you had wanted to do while you were trying to focus on work was kiss him.

You leaned up and placed a gentle kiss on his lips. Even though you came in slow, you surprised him. Here you were in the Quantico parking lot, boldly kissing him when any of your coworkers could have seen. "Why-why did you do that?" he asked as you pulled away. "I can't?" you asked, pouting slightly, teasing him. "N-No, You can you can, we're just so out in the open, and we haven't talked about anything, so I didn't know how you felt, and you were ignoring me all day." He rushed out as you let out a little laugh at him. "Let's drive, cutie." You said, turning your music back on, this time to a lower volume, as you pulled out of the parking lot and down the street. "First of all sweetness, I wasn't ignoring you all day, I didn't want Morgan to tease you again. You were busy with paperwork and I knew you didn't need him being an asshole to you to make it worse. Second, did you see all the paperwork they had left? There was no way any of them would have been out in the parking lot yet." You said as you smoothly merged onto the highway towards your house.

You were wondering when he was going to notice that he was going in the opposite direction of his house but he was too wrapped up in his thoughts. You glanced over at him before returning your eyes to the road. You cursed yourself for not having an eidetic memory because you would have kept a snapshot of him like that in your mind forever. His hair, once slicked back, now slightly disheveled from running his hands through it as he did his paperwork and the wind from your open windows. The cool summer wind that rosied his cheeks and the tip of his nose as he gazed out the streetlights overhead. Blue, red, green, purple yellow, white; the blinking lights of the city married the sunset hues that danced across his face. Illuminating his beautifully arched nose and his prominent cheekbones, it felt as if the sun was setting just for him and the city was awakening his beauty.

You smiled to yourself as you switched the cd in the cd player for one of your classics. "Hey! You listen to these guys?! You know I was going to see them last year but then we had this case out of town and I had to miss it. That was when they were still playing at that bar by the Speedway that burnt down." Spencer said excitedly. "Really!? You like them too? I haven't seen them yet but I've been listening to them since college. I never had that much money to be spending on tickets for shows beyond small house shows. I can't believe you like them, I always thought you were more of a Debussy or Chopin person." You replied, excited to have something to share. "Yeah I mean I like pretty much every genre but I've been really into their old stuff lately and, surprisingly, also french 70s music." He said matter-of-factly.

Contrarily, he was fibbing. He knew exactly why he had been listening to it. The previous night he had dreamed of the two of you off the shore, in the south of France in spring, reading books across from each other, legs tangled together, on a chez lounge. Jacqueline Taieb played on the radio as you pulled him up to dance. He removed the thoughts from his mind as he realized his predicament. He didn't know if he was allowed to think about you like that. You had been so sweet and caring towards him last night, and you kissed him so sweetly, but he was still unsure of where you stood. He was still lost in thought as you pulled up to your apartment and parked.

"Hey, this isn't my apartment. Is this your friend's place?" He asked, surprised. "No, Sweetheart. I didn't want Morgan to bother us as we were leaving so I made up some excuse. And this is my apartment. If you want to talk about what happened last night, you can come in. Well, I guess you can come in if you don't want to either, but that's beside the point. If you don't want to talk about it or if you just want me to take you home, I can do that right now. It's up to you baby." You said, gently taking his hand in yours. "I-I want to talk about it." He said shyly. "Alright then, my partner in crime. I will welcome you into my abode. We can order some dinner and talk about it. I'm thinking curry, what about you?" you said.

You could sense his nervousness and tried to lighten the mood even though deep down you were pissing yourself. You had never really done this either. You had a couple of one-night stands and short-term relationships, but nothing that lasted that long, and something in you wanted this time to be different. The young doctor was so endearing, and he was the first person who seemed to be interested in making you happy in the relationship, unlike most of your past suitors. You were terrified that you would push him too far or something would change, and that's why it was so important you had a talk and had trust and communication. You held his hand all the way up the stairs and to your apartment, not letting go when you went to open your door. You told yourself it was to make him feel better but you knew it was because you needed to do something with your hands to get them to stop shaking.

"Sorry, it's not the cleanest space ever. I wasn't expecting guests" you said as you began to tidy up random things around the room, mostly mason jars full of water or a stray empty mug. Spencer took note of his surroundings, drinking everything in. He couldn’t remember what he assumed your apartment would look like because as soon as he entered, he couldn't imagine you living anywhere else. It was all the parts of you that he knew and all of the parts he had yet to learn. He knew that you loved reading, so the bookshelves made sense. He knew that you loved music, so the cd player with piles of CDs next to it made sense. He knew you loved movies, so the VHS player and tv with a built-in DVD player and even more stacks of media made sense. But his favorite part was the giant easel positioned by the window with a large canvas on it. "Wow, Y/N! You paint?" he asked as you continued to clean up. "Oh, don't mind that! Sorry I didn't have time to put it away before we left! I'll get it out of your way!" You said, already carrying a basket full of god knows what in your arms. "No, No! Please leave it out. It's beautiful." He said, looking at your brush strokes. "Suit yourself. Let me know if it gets in your way," you said, finishing your cleaning by fluffing the pillows on your couch.

You finished bustling around your apartment and sat down on your couch across from the TV. He slowly made his way over to you, sitting at the opposite end from you, still unsure of your boundaries. You could spot his nerves from a mile away, so you swung your legs up onto the couch and poked him in his side with your feet. "Why are you sitting so far away, Sweety," you said as he looked over at you. You looked just as you did in his dream, soft and comfy in slouchy clothes. He hadn't noticed that you had changed into some comfy pajama pants and a loose pajama top, and now he couldn't stop thinking about the fact that you changed at some point when he was in the room. He knew it was silly. He had already seen you naked, but it all felt like a dream." I'll call and order, and you think about what you want to eat and what you want from me for a bit, ok? I know this great place a couple blocks from here." You said as you pulled out your landline, and dialed the number that you had scrawled on a notepad on your coffee table.

Then, Spencer saw the notepads, notebooks, sticky notes, and other odds and ends that you had all over the house. One on the fridge, one by the easel, one on the tv stand, two on the coffee table. They were all decorated differently for each task, of which he could see two, one titled 'Yummy restaurants' and the other titled 'movies to watch.' He tried to stop his distracting thoughts of how comfortably he fit in your space and how every item embodied you perfectly, all in different ways. When he was finally able to focus, he felt you start absentmindedly kneading your feet on his thigh that was closest to you. He could barely look over at you, finding you unbelievably erotic. He sucked in a breath as your pajama shirt was only buttoned up so much, enticingly drawing his eyes to the swell of your breast that he could see above the collar of your shirt.

You hooked your foot up under his thighs and brought his legs up onto the couch as you continued to order. You tangled your legs together, lifting your right foot to his chest, gently tapping out a rhythm absentmindedly as you talked. You broke through Spencer's entrancement, asking "What do you want to eat?" "Um... Whatever you're getting." He responded, as he still hadn't even begun to look at the menu. "Yeah! Then for the second order, can I get the same thing but make it mild." You said, poking your tongue out at him teasingly before finishing your order.

You two walked to pick up your food, talking about nothing in particular. You didn't want to talk about the elephant in the room until you got back, so you filled the space with meaningless conversation that instantly stopped as you entered the house. It was silent as you got forks ready, spying Spencer sitting rigidly straight on the couch, waiting for you.

"You know, you were so bold in the office today that I didn't expect you to be this shy when we got here. We don't have to talk about anything if you don't want to, sweet-" "I do, I really do." He said, cutting you off. "Ok! That's great. Well, I'm going to start off by saying that any relationship like this, whatever you want that to be, depends on strong trust and communication. That goes beyond the bedroom. Being on the team I trust you with my life. I know I'm new so I understand if you don't trust me yet but I just wanted to set that baseline with you. I'm going to be 1000% truthful with you and I'm going to start by saying this. I don't regret anything that we did last night. I loved what we did last night and I really like doing this with you. I want to explore with you if you would be so gracious as to let me. I find you very interesting, and I would like to be friends or more depending on what you want as we continue our rendezvous." You said as you grasped his hands, willing him to look into your eyes. He let out a sigh of relief. "I really liked what we did yesterday too. I was kind of worried that you regretted it or something. I'm really really new to everything, but I feel comfortable exploring if it's you. You made me feel really safe last night and I appreciate that a lot. I find you really beautiful and sexy and intriguing and I would like to be friends and maybe more with you now. I don't know if I'm allowed to say this... but I want to." He said, gaining some confidence. "You are allowed to say whatever you want, baby. That's why we have open communication. Everything is to make sure you are feeling as good and safe as possible," you said, rubbing his hand. " You should feel safe and good too. I know you are more experienced than me, but you deserve to be safe too." He said gently before continuing. "I was wondering if... if I could request that this be monogamous. I get really upset thinking about you with someone else." He said, and you could feel the shaking in his hands as he anticipated your reply. "Of course, sweetheart. I was hoping you would ask. Maybe I'm a little selfish, but I don't like to share my things. They're mine for a reason." You said before planting a gentle kiss on his cheek, earning a smile from him. "But I think, for now, I would like to be friends and see how it goes from there while we... explore," Spencer said. You nod and smile in agreement.

"Alright, so Spencer, tell me what you're interested in, sexually. What do you think about when you jerk off? What did you think about when you read my book?" You asked nonchalantly, as you picked up your curry and rice, taking a bite as if you'd just asked him about the weather. "w-well, I think about a lot of things." He sputtered out. "Just give me a little list I can work off." You said in between bites. "Um, I like seeing you naked. I like it when we match because it feels like we have a deep connection. I like h-how you touched me yesterday. I want you to touch me more." He said shyly, hiding his face behind his cup of water. "And the other two questions?" You prodded, watching as the bulge grew in his pants. "Um, what do I think of when I jerk off? Oh my god, I can't believe I'm saying this," He blushed before continuing. "I think about how it would feel to have your mouth wrapped around my cock. I think about you calling me a naughty boy. I think about you praising me. I think about your book and how there's so much more that I have to read. I think about you not wearing panties at work. And I think even more about pulling you into the storage closet, lifting up your skirt, and fucking you while everyone is working. I think about your piercings, and I think about your piercing chapter."

"What did you think of that chapter by the way? You ran off to the bathroom pretty quick. What were you thinking of doing to me, naughty boy?" you said, setting your food down on the table, leaning towards him, hands planted on his thighs. "Tell the truth, I can sniff out a liar from a mile away," You said, squeezing into his thighs. He bucked up towards you, searching for friction in any way he could." f-fuck. I read the chapter when I was touching myself. I thought about how you had pointed at my boner, and I thought about how I wanted you to make fun of me, and smack me, and punish me for being naughty." he said hurriedly, hoping his answer would satiate you. "Nuh-uh! Come on, tell me the whole truth," you said and smacked his thigh. He yelped as your hand came down, leaving him with a dull sting. "Ok! But it's embarrassing so don't laugh... I thought about you cockwarming me while I pierced your tongue, and how you would drool, and how you would squeeze around me. I thought about how I wanted to mark you and make you mine." He said, covering his eyes, hiding from his shame and how it made his cock stir in his pants. "You naughty, naughty boy, Spencer Reid. I thought you were innocent but here you are with your hand on your cock, at work, thinking about my pussy and my tongue and my spit, and it made you cum. What a rascal!" you said, watching for a reaction in his pants.

You pried his arm from his eyes, so he was forced to look at your smirk. His face and neck were a deep pink, and his lips were as pillowy and soft as a rose petal from biting his them. You couldn't help yourself as you pounced on him. You knew this was supposed to be just a talk about boundaries, but there was an undeniable electricity in the air that had been lingering from the moment you had woken up. He looked so fucked out, even though you hadn’t touched him yet and part of you wanted to absolutely ruin him that night. "Remember your colors, baby. What are you feeling?" You said, now perched in his lap. "Green, green. P-Please touch me." As he said it, you ground down on him. While you were in your comfortable clothes, he was still in his tight corduroys and button-down, sweater long gone somewhere else in the apartment. "Have you ever heard of something called edging?" You asked, and he nodded excitedly. "What about overstimulation?" You said, and he nodded quickly again. "What do you think about them?" He nodded, and you smacked him, not as hard as you would usually go, but enough to leave a sting. "Use your words, naughty boy." You said, capturing his jaw and tilting his face up to meet yours. "Yes, please. I'm so green. I have been wanting you to do this, please." He shot out through squished cheeks, looking at you with the most hungry eyes you have ever seen. His warm hazel eyes, now shiny and black with desire.

You got up off of him, and he whined, missing the warmth of your body on his. You grabbed him by the back of his neck like he was a naughty kitten, and pulled him down the hall and into your bedroom. Before he could take in your room, you pushed him back on the bed. "Strip." You commanded, and your scent overwhelmed him. Your daily aroma that intoxicated him was ten times weaker than the pure pheromones that blanketed your room. Spencer mused that your room must have been built to have sex in. Your bedside tables were adorned with candles, incense, your daily jewelry, and a pair of your panties. You had a red canopy on your four-poster bed that draped your room in a soft red glow.

Your figure was obscured by the canopy as you moved some items around your room. Spencer was lost in your scent, the idea of finally being in your room, and possibly a little lost staring at the panties on your table, making him move too slow for your liking. You parted the fabric and crawled up the bed to him. "Spencer Walter Reid, if you don't strip now, you're going to get a spanking. You have been such a naughty boy today. I thought you were going to be a good boy for mommy but I guess you want to get punished." You said as you slinked back off the bed. "I'm going to count down from 10 and if you aren't naked by the time I reach 0, you are getting spanked. Understood?" You said, and he squeaked out and "Understood!" "10... " Who knew it took so long to unbutton a dress shirt? "9... " Now, his hands were stuck in his sleeves. "8..." Shirt off. "7..." Is his belt broken, or is he shaking too much? "6..." Belt undone but not off. "5..." Pants, ok. "4..." Fuck, his shoes are stuck on. "3... 2... 1... 0. STOP NOW"

You parted the curtain, smirking down at him. "I think I said naked, not underwear on." You said, looking down at him. "You didn't give me enough time!" He whined but you were already flipping him onto your lap with his ass perched in the air. "Color?" You asked, earning his eager response of "Green, so green." You pulled his underwear off and hung it on the corner of your side table, right next to your own panties. The sight was oddly domestic, making him even harder as he tried to rut into your leg. Your hand came down hard on his ass and he bucked into you moaning in shock. "You naughty boy, pathetically rubbing on me. Does my thigh feel good baby?" you asked, and he nodded. Your hand came down hard on his other cheek "How many times do I have to tell you? Use. Your. Words." Punctuating your last three words with three more smacks to his ass, gently rubbing the red skin as he cried out. "Yes, mommy! Your thigh feels so good! Thank you so much!" he said as he ground himself down on you pitifully. "Why is mommy punishing you, sweetheart?" you said, sweetening your tone. " Because I didn't get dressed?" He asked. "Hm, if you were really sorry, you would know what you were sorry for. What are you being punished for? One more chance." You said, smoothing over the plains of his ass. "For being a naughty boy who doesn't listen and rubs his cock on mommy too much." He said. "So close, baby!" You said as you brought down one last smack to his ass as his cock leaked precum all over your legs. "You were getting punished because you don't listen and because you were being really naughty at work, sweetheart. But you took punishment so well, so you deserve a treat." You said as you flipped him over, making sure he was laying in a comfortable place on the bed.

"C-can we match?" He said, pulling on your sweater. You smiled down at him sweetly as you stripped, taking your time to let him gaze over the planes of your body. When you returned, you sat high up on his stomach, making sure he couldn't get any friction against you as you kissed him softly. He was still a little clunky when it came to kissing but when you took it slow, it helped him warm up to your motions until you two were completely in sync.

"Alright, so I'm going to do some new things. Let me know at any time if you aren't comfortable or you want me to stop." You said, and you turned so you were sitting on his chest, looking down at his cock, as he got a wonderful view of your ass and the dimples in your back as your muscles flexed. You collected some spit in your mouth and let it drip down slowly onto the head of his already overly excited cock. He hissed as your finger swirled in the spit that pooled at the base of his cock as you wet your hand before grasping his length. Even though he had felt this exact same thing yesterday, he could never get over the sensation of your hand squeezing around him, circling his cock, and playing with the tip with your thumb. You spit into your other hand and wrapped both hands around his length, working them up and down his shaft, gently twisting and squeezing. The best part was that he couldn’t see anything you were doing. It was like he was blindfolded, stomach muscles tensing in anticipation of your touch.

"Fuck baby I'm close." And that was when you stopped. right as he was about to cum, you squeezed down hard at the base of his cock. "You don't cum until I do." You said, scooting your core back so that it was a couple tantalizing inches away from his face. "Really? You'll let me eat you out? For real?" He asked, mind blown at the idea of eating you out. "I was hoping you would." You replied, waiting for him to make a decision. He hooked your arms around your thighs and pulled you into him so hard, you were worried he broke his nose at first. 'I need a man who eats pussy like it's the only way to quench his thirst' rung out in his head. That's what you had written in your journal titled "Male needs" and he wanted to be a Male that you needed, so that's what he did. He flattened his tongue as he licked a long stripe up your folds, and back down to your clit, latching on hungrily, alternating between sucking hard and twirling his tongue on it. "H-Holy shit Spencer." You moaned, and you knew you wouldn't last long. Even though you wouldn’t admit it, you were soaking wet just from teasing and punishing him. That, coupled with how sweet his tongue was on your core, and you were done for. You certainly had never had a man eat you out like this, much less a virgin. "Shit baby, you're so good? How did you get so good?" You asked incredulously, as he reached his hand back around and inserted a finger between your folds, giving his mouth a short break. "I read the literature and from what I saw, the g spot should be about here." He said before curling his fingers inside of you, brushing against the sensitive bundle of nerves, causing you to moan deeply. His smirking mouth found its way back to your clit as he added another finger, working your g spot with feverish strokes.

"Fuck, baby! I'm cumming!" You shouted and right as you were reaching your peak, he stopped everything. "What the fuck are you doing!?" You yelped at him, your mounting peak now decrescendoing before ever hitting the climax. "I thought we were matching. You're edging me, I'm edging you." He said innocently, but you could hear his smirk tinging his words. "You just want to be punished huh?" You said and squeezed down on his base as you kissed the tip of his cock. "Naughty boys don't get proper head. When you make me cum, then I'll actually suck your cock. Got it?" You asked as he bucked his hips"Yes." He replied fervently.

This was his first-ever experience getting head, so of course, you were going to give him a good time. He would just have to wait. You held down at the base of his aching cock as you lazily sucked and licked the head. Not even close to the usual effort you would put in, but it was enough to make his legs shake and finger you faster. His mouth was too busy panting and whining to eat you out but you were fine with that because the way he was curling his fingers was creating a knot in your stomach and you could feel your impending release. "Fuck baby I'm cumming. Let me cum this time." You said and he reattached his mouth to your clit, sucking hard as he used all of his willpower to keep himself from cumming. And just like that, you're cumming all down his face and fingers as you shake but he keeps going, this time with more enthusiasm, riding you through your orgasm and overstimulating you. You eagerly take him into your mouth all the way, sucking hard, lathering his length with your spit, and in two seconds he is cumming hard down your throat. "Mommy I'm cumming" He said a little too late as you had already swallowed around him.

You were both so caught in the afterglow that you just kept going. Aftershock spurts of cum kept shooting down your throat but you kept sucking. You wanted him needy and wrecked under you. "Oh my god! ah! AH!" He said, shaking as you keep sucking him down. He keeps finger fucking you as if he is possessed. You are both riding your highs and are so overstimulated that in no more than a minute you are both cumming all over again as sobs wrack your bodies.

You flop down next to Spencer and kiss his cheek tentatively, knowing most men don't kiss after head. Spencer leans up, kissing you passionately, tangling his tongue in yours, tasting your release on each other's tongues. "Flip over baby," You said as he rolled over. You pulled out your lotion from your bedside table, gently warming up a small amount in your hands before spreading it on his butt. "I don't know about you, but I'm way too tired to take a shower tonight. I'm just going to put our leftovers in the fridge and brush my teeth. I have some spare toothbrushes if you would like to borrow one, and some pajamas." You said to a very sleepy Spencer. He didn’t even say anything, he just grumbled and got up, leaning on you.

He helped you clean up, both still naked, enjoying the domesticity of just walking around completely vulnerable together. You needed to brush his teeth for him as he sat on the toilet lid and you couldn’t help but think he looked like a little baby, barely clinging to the little energy it had before a nap. You got him up and back in bed, looking down at his naked form, now noticing the gentle matching bruises on either side of his body. “I know you like to match but take care of yourself. Don’t bang yourself up so much. I don’t want you to hurt yourself.” You said as you picked his clothes off of the floor. You reached down for your pajamas but before you could get them back on or pull him into his, he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you down on top of him."I’ll try to stop. Only for you, and only because you asked so nicely. Right now, I’m too sleepy, let's sleep naked. Night night." He mumbled into the crook of your neck. Warmth enveloped your body at his words, “only for you.” Somehow that was all it took to finally give in to sleep's welcoming grasp, reveling in the warmth shared between your skin.

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Chapter 1 Here / Chapter 2 Here / Chapter 3 Here / Chapter 4

And there we go, that's chapter five! Make sure to give me any comments, criticisms, or ways to better the plot. I hope you guys liked this chapter. I tried to balance out the sweet and spicy aspects of this one. I hope you guys have a great night!

Tag List: @spencer-reids-slut @ya-triedit @reidstoychest @flipperpenguins @thatsonezesty13 @jbbarnes-loki @big-galaxy-chaos @ickleronniekinsemotionalrange @spencersmagic @uhuhuh @living-for-romance @aharvey979 @xoxo-jnh-xoxo @marrymespencerrei @crypticcorvidinacottage , @ladydragoneye , @stjoaninthewildwest

#spencer reid smut #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #sub spencer #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid #sub!spencer #pervspence #pervespencer #perve spencer reid #perv spencer reid

[jaeminscoffee]

Knee highs and short skirts | N. Jm

Pairing- Na Jaemin x reader

Genre- Smut, fluff, college!au

Word count- 3.82k

Warning(s)- nsfw, softdom!Jaemin, pretty pwp, corruption kink, slight voyeurism? (they make out in public) possessiveness, dacryphilia (getting aroused by one crying or sobbing), fingering (for prep), unprotected sex (play it safe y'all this is a fiction), slightly inexperienced?reader, unintentional overstimulation (unintentional LMAOO), pretty filthy i say. Lyra back at it with smuts lol

Synopsis- It was hard to imagine that all it took was skirts and high knee socks and cute little jumpy girls for Jaemin to get highly turned on, but here we are.

Type- requested!

@kpopscape​

It was hard to imagine that all it took was skirts and high knee socks and cute little jumpy girls for Jaemin to get highly turned on. 

Watching you as you entered the campus had always been a sort of daily serotonin boost for Jaemin. More like, watching you smile and wave at every passing acquaintance regardless of the fact whether you spoke with them or not was a serotonin boost for Jaemin. You were extremely intriguing. 

You're a jolly person, an extreme extrovert, shy at first glance of course but nevertheless outgoing, you'd had little to no problem at all at making friends. Your close ones called you the human magnet and most would agree to it. Could you help it? Company is always better than being alone (unless preferred to be alone).

The first time Jaemin saw you was when you came into the campus first bumping into not his, but a very pissed Jeno's back in a very cliché way which resulted in him accidentally pour out his anger on you, which led to Jaemin having to find you later in the day to apologize on Jeno's behalf. That experience had a very interesting impression on the two lads, well, a not too positive impression on Jeno but the opposite for Jaemin. 

The next time Jaemin saw you was in his philosophy class, and god bless you and your perfect complexion complimenting all your curves and edges and oh of course, that cute black and white knee high socks that you wore with a skirt a little too short for him to stay sane and a sweatshirt loose enough to give you adorable sweater paws. That's when wanting to see you on a daily basis became Jaemin's sole reason to attend college. 

The next time was weeks into talking to each other, getting comfortable to a point where you went over to each other's house, exchanged numbers, went on small platonic dates and where your friendship started to turn into a touchy one, and you absolutely loved it. Well, Jaemin loved it more than you. Watching your face flush when he'd place his hands comfortably a little too close to there on your thigh had him feel sorts of emotions he's never felt. How your eyes would widen each time he'd place playfull kisses on your cheeks, or when he pulled you onto his lap to cuddle up closer when watching a movie or two, Jaemin lived for your reaction. 

Weeks after that was at a small dinner send off party of sort by one of your friends for the senior batch, where seeing you in a white body fitting turtleneck full sleeve with a grey skirt consisting of blue hue with a plain white knee high sock had him crave you more than before. When the occasional touches and kisses turned into a form of self destruction for Jaemin and those longing touches turned into a want to take it up a notch. 

And maybe it's the fact that Jaemin genuinely seemed intriguing to you, or the slight intoxicity you felt after a glass of not that strong of drink went down your throat, making you want to comply with everything Jaemin wanted. The expression he wore of pure bliss and satisfaction had you feeling proud of yourself. Like you're doing the right thing, like standing in a hallway beside your classmates bedroom with his hands around your waist in a vise grip, face inches away from colliding into a passionate kiss where anyone could bump into you two was a right thing to do. Like not caring about the all 'good mean no bad' girl image you'd formed to fade away in front of your classmates and probably next the entire campus was the right thing to do. 

The next time, well, this moment right now when you went over with him to his studio apartment hand in hand after evening lectures, it had been nearly impossible for Jaemin to keep his hands to himself. How your lips pucker into a pout complaining about all the workload you have, how you jump up in excitement at the sudden strike of another topic you want to discuss with him, or how you seemed so dreamy in general and all Jaemin could do was stare at you with an expression of pure admiration, desire and want to change the whole innocent image you held. 

"so Mr. Li asked him to-ah!" and all he could do was pull you onto his lap with his hand on your hip to hold you up in place and unintentionally cut your sweet voice's narration short, but he wanted to hear you more, "I'm listening, doll. Keep going"  he cooed at your flushed expression at the sudden proximity, pulling you closer to connect you two by the hip, tapping at your now exposed thighs as your skirt had ridden up at the shift in position to urge you to step out of your daze and continue speaking. 

"What.-what are you doing, Jaem?" you ask, resting your hands on his chest as you push yourself a little back to create some space, clearly astonished at the sudden spark of something at the area between your sock clad legs, only to be pulled back closer towards him once again. 

"Something I've wanted to do for a long time, keep going, baby, I'll just be doing my thing" and so you let your hand rest on his chest while continuing your story as he looked intently at you.

Being in such proximity with Jaemin had never been a new thing, it's how no matter how many times you'd see him up close you'd still can't look him straight in the eyes for more than a few seconds because of how strong his gaze is that would have you flustered. Ever since the said party, your first proper kiss and Jaemin's first step to calling you his, you wanted to stick around him and just him. You felt like yourself around him and he made you feel so loved that you were willing to let him do anything just to have him around. 

In Jaemin's case, it was that he'd not move forward with his plans if he'd noticed the slightest of discomfort in any of your actions, fearing that you'd leave him once and for all before he could even call you his. And so in that way, you two did what pleased the others the best. 

Smiling at how you slowly got comfortable with his warmth, he leaned forward, slightly startling you but you nevertheless continued speaking, "Show his homework to him, b-but he couldn't because the only co-opy he had.." you squeal in a breath as you feel his breath fan your exposed neck, courtesy of wearing a slightly deep V-neck to college and of course to the hangout that day, "Had..?" 

Jaemin rasped in a voice a little too low to what you're used to hearing, dangerously low that you felt yourself squirming under his grip, which elicits a groan from the male. Not knowing the weightage of your action, you accidentally end up doing it again as his plush lips come in contact with the sensitive skin. "H-had was.. mine-" 

"Mine, a pretty word, right doll?" The feeling of his lip moving against your skin was ticklish to describe the best, but good, good enough to have keeping your legs closed uncomfortable from the sudden pool of arousal that bedded itself in your foolishly white panties. "Yes..?" you answer with a shaky voice, moving once again to get rid of the said uncomfortable feeling which resulted in Jaemin throwing his head back to rest on the head rest of the couch, his perfect eyebrows furrowed into a frown, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. 

"Darling, if you keep moving like this, i won't be able to stop myself from doing what all I've imagined doing to you," he spoke with the same low voice of his, which had you unintentionally moving regardless of the empty warning that lingered in the air. That's when you notice the visible switch in the way Jaemin looked at you.  Determined to carry this forward and put an end to the friends title to develop into a whole new one.

"What you've imagined doing to me? W-wha-?" you let the question linger, not really expecting an answer when he looked at you with a smirk on his perfect lips. He let one of his hands off from your side to comb through your perfectly set hair while the other wrapped around your torso to keep you upright. 

"Should i tell you what I've imagined?" Surely fueled by desire, Jaemin still counted on your consent, basic etiquette and he wouldn't let it go down the drain just because of his lust. The silent look of curiosity gave it away that you really wanted to walk through the dream boys imagination, so you nod your head. "Words, darling. I need words"

Looking at him patiently waiting for your verbal confirmation, you swallow down the nervousness before looking him straight in the eyes with your own widened ones, "Y-yes."

"Hm, well, I imagined having you close to me, just like this, all responsive to everything I do."

"Then I imagined feeling that soft lips of yours once again, the one that I remember so vaguely. Will you let me taste it once again?" He asked, leaning in closer than what your bodies would allow, nevertheless feeling ecstatic at the effect he has on you. "Hm?" you could obviously not say no to the expression he wore, filled with excitement and expectations, happiness, desire and maybe.. love? 

Instead of answering, you lean forward, closing off the small distance that kept your bodies from colliding, pressing your lips onto his with least force. The type of kiss got both of you feeling hot, bubbly as you feel Jaemin smile against your lips. 

The kiss was a mix of aggression and passion, slow and fast, lust and innocent emotions, one strong enough to deliver all sorts of emotions and of course, sloppy out of desperation, "Still as sweet as ever," he speaks against your lips, beaming down at you with the same smile as you refuse to meet his gaze at the sudden shyness that overtook your desire. 

Jaemin's hands slip up the open clothing to grip your thigh raw, the feeling of his cold fingers making you shift position again, looking down and cowering behind your palms as you shield your heated face from the lad, "What's wrong doll?" he moves his thumb up and down, massaging the skin he had his grip on, "Talk to me, princess, do you want me to stop?" 

"No!.. I mean, n-no, it's just.. I've never done this before, ever" As though your usual behavior never gave it away that you're too innocent for anyone existing in the world, you confirm Jaemin's suspicion all the more, to which his smile only just widened, the burning desire to change the status if innocence way too strong for him to contain himself now, "I know, darling, I'll go slow, alright?"

At your nod of confirmation, he wastes no time to lift your shirt out of it's confinement inside your skirt and over your head to reveal a not so appealing bra, yet, Jaemin thought you looked absolutely exquisite in it. Just a plain white lace bra, a cherry on top to the innocent image you held that he oh so much wanted to destroy, "W-wait! Can.. C-can this..-nevermind," you sigh, not wanting to disappoint the boy in front of you at your insecurity, "Can what, baby?" you shake your head, "Tell me, love"

"Can..can the bra stay on.. Just this once..?" you ask in a soft voice as Jaemin notices your tiny gestures of an attempt to cover yourself a little, feeling a little too hot, "Do you want it to stay on?" he asks in a voice all too understanding, no signs on the disappointment you were worried about, you nod, "Then it stays on" he smiles before placing a chaste kiss at the valley of your chest and swiftly shifts you on his lap in a way that your back rest flat on his chest, a hand secured on your waist to hold you as close as possible.

You feel a sort of warmth spread through your body at Jaemin's understanding and non persistent behavior towards your request as you allow yourself to relax and go limp on his body, "Do you know how many times i've imagined this? You on my lap.." he moves his legs to break your legs apart, using his knees to spread them and hold them open, "All pretty and for me to touch," He attaches his lips to your neck once again with a better access this time as he lets his hands wander up and down your legs, the hand that held your waist moving down to bunch up your skirt and pull it up to reveal to leaking mess you'd become which made Jaemin twitch and you shy. 

"All wet for me, and for me only" you whimper at his shameless words as his wandering hands move closer to your heat, cupping it as he felt up the wetness he'd caused to form there, a throaty groan escaping him while doing so as you feel yourself jump at the friction you got for a second at the place you needed it the most. The thought of someone other than you touching your sex causing your insides to twist, in the best way possible of course. 

Jaemin resumed to feel up and down your wetness from over the fabric while still keeping his lips attached to your neck, just to make sure you were wet enough to take him, or better, his fingers. 

"J-Jaemin..," 

You let out a loud moan feeling his fingers directly over your clit once he pushed you drenched panty aside, coating his fingers with your arousal before easing one slender digit in, causing your back to arch.

Way too sensitive and aroused, it was obvious you wouldn't be long until your first high, and Jaemin knew that all too well as he felt your tight walls clench over one little finger when he started pulsing it in and out of you and a steady pace, minding to not make it too much for you, though, that thought seemed highly appealing to him, but he'd rather save it for the next time.

"Does that feel good, my love? Because watching you look all angelic like this for me is what I'd imagined next" he speaks against your hair, as you try to close in your leg at the friction you're getting suddenly becoming overwhelming for you, added to that came in Jaemin's words, talks, voice laced in adoration and pure want. "Y-yes Jaem, oh god.. "

Silently moaning himself at your godly sounds, he continues penetrating you to your first ever not self made orgasm, eliciting a loud high pitched scream from your side at the very intimidating feeling at the bottom of your stomach, feeling it undo as Jaemin coaxes your first orgasm out of you,

"Just like that darling, you're doing so well, so good for me" he coos, wanting to drag your orgasm a little more, as he lowers his unoccupied hands to draw small, slow circles around your clit, making you spasm uncontrollably over him, feeling your eyes glaze over at the now painful feeling, you push his hands meekly away from your core, 

Shocked over the fact that he got you to come for him with just a finger, he added another one in, muttering silent apologies at your sudden pleas for a break to make sure your stretched out enough for that upcoming activity, "Just a little more, my strong girl, just a little more," though sorry for dragging your orgasm, he felt himself get lost at your small sobs and tiny tears falling down the side of your face which he pecked away.

Increasing the speed of his hands, he presses his thumb over your extremely sensitive bundle of nerves once again, making your arch your back in a painful angle, the crown of your head resting on his shoulder as you shake your head at him, letting him know that it was getting too much for you to handle, 

"Come for me once again, baby. We need to make sure you're prepared enough, hm? Can you do that for me?"

As if on command, you let yourself fall apart once again, a loud cry resonating through the room along with you crunching your legs up to stop the burning from the intense high, Jaemin whispering praises against your hair while running his hand up and down your forearm to soothe you. "You did so well, doll, want to stop here?" he inquired selflessly, not caring about the fact that he's extremely hard and it had taken a painful toll.

You take a second to calm your breathing as Jaemin patiently waits for your response. Making sure your breathing is normal again, you shake your head from it's position on his shoulder as he presses a kiss onto your wet cheeks, "You need to feel good too.." you speak with your eyes barely open, Jaemin smiling softly against your cheek, "Love."

You let out a sound of confusion at the random word blurted out by him as you turn your head to look at him, "Say the word 'love' if it gets too much for you, alright?" you nod, at no further actions from his side, you look at him once again, realising he's all about the verbal confirmation, "Alright.." you squeal out, "Turn around and sit facing me, doll" he hurries.

Jaemin rushes to remove his skinny jeans alongside his boxers when you lift yourself up, letting his member stand tall and free from confinement, making him feel like he can finally breathe. Slightly intrigued by the above average size, you look at him nervously which had his head turn at your innocent expression, "We'll take it slow, darling, nothing to hurt you, hm?" you nod before replying out loud. 

He gestures for you to hover yourself above his hardness once he got the panties out of the way and discarded it somewhere out on the wooden floor of his housing. "Go for it whenever you're ready" wanting to give you full control of the pace for now, he let you take your time for your first ever time. 

Chest heaving up and down in both excitement and nervousness you slowly lower yourself, knees beside his thighs, hands a vise grip on his shoulder, letting yourself engulf just a little of his member, you wince, still a little sensitive from the previous orgasms, his hardness much thicker and bigger than his fingers to just ease down quick despite how easy it'd be considering the wet mess he'd made of you, "Jaemin.. " 

Contributing from his end, he pushes his hips up to get inside you a little more, not too fast for it to be painful for you. Slowly, you let yourself ease down on him completely, sitting down onto his lap with his dick inside of you, twitching at the warmth he finally felt. Jaemin hushes your silent cry of slight pain, "You feel so good around me, doll. Such a good girl for me, " 

You take the initiative to lift yourself up just a little so that more than half of him is out and glistening from your arousal making him let out an airy moan of satisfaction, feeling your tightness, finally after only having imagined how it felt for so long.

You move up and down slowly, thighs trembling, heart pacing fast with pride at the feeling of making him feel good from all the sounds he let out, mind hazy and body covered in sweat. "oh my, Jae-Jaem-ah!" you fall limp over his body at the sudden thrust from his end, maybe from growing too impatient. 

"Should i take it from here, darling? I need to come, will you make me come, doll?" you mumble out a bunch of 'yes!' as your face falls into the nape of his neck where you nibbled at the skin like how he'd done. 

Jaemin took control once again, a sudden burst of energy sparking through his body as he set a fast pace in pistoning in and out of you, your slickness and his precum ensuring it wouldn't be painful for you, rather, it felt extremely good. "Look at my good girl taking me so well, you're making me feel so good, darling, I'm so.. Uh, I'm so close-" 

You clench around him when you feel a knot forming once again for the third time that evening when you feel his tip brush against your sweet spot, eliciting a loud gasp from you as you bite down a little too harder than intended on his hot skin while pressing the side of your face against his broad shoulders. "Jaemin.. Jaem, I'm.. Oh god"

"I know, doll, i know.. Me too, let go for me" he holds your hips in a grip tight enough to leave a light bruise or two while reaching between your bodies to find comfort on your clit again, making you let out a choked moan as Jaemin ended up being the one doing most of the work. 

You fall off the edge once again, this time harder than the previous ones as your tears slip and fall onto his shoulder, seeping into his shirt and onto the skin, making him go faster, chasing his high while dragging yours for a second or two longer. 

"Jaem, too much..it hurts-" you sob in a whiny tone which was more than enough to throw Jaemin off his edge too, rubbing fast circles on your clit while ribbons of his essence coat your walls as he lets out a loud, long groan of your name.

He stops his moment on your clit, but continues to move slowly to draw out all the arousal from his member, only stopping when he feels himself grow soft inside of you, the feeling making you clench around him weakly which makes him jolt due to the sensitivity.

Knowing it'd only make a mess to remove himself from inside you, he decides to stay in, muttering out a series of praises that he let linger in the air. 

"That.. felt good," you speak into the silence, voice hoarse and weak, worn out from all the activity as you silently thank him for making you feel so good, a sense of accomplishment spread through his chest, finally fulfilling his wish of corrupting you, and most importantly, making you his. He kisses your forehead after pushing out strands of tresses that covered it, 

"Anything for my babygirl"

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