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honestsycrets · 10 months

Text

enfócate | tutor!miguel o'hara x reader

❛ pairing | tutor!miguel x student!reader, fake boyfriend!peter x reader

❛ type | explicit

❛ summary | jess is clear: miguel o'hara is a terrible boyfriend. he'll inevitably hurt you-- but peter has other ideas. or, you blow miguel in a library.

❛ tags | spanish tutor!miguel, bratty reader, a kiss with Peter, Miguel's jealousy, bjs, fake boyfriend!peter, slight obsessive qualities, fuck buddies, undefined relationships, fuck boy Miguel.

❛ reqs fulfilled | see here.

❛ sy's notes | the pov on this piece bothers me, it jumps between reader and Miguel. however, i did write two separate pieces for this request (a combined 25 pages vs my usual 11/12). so, i decided to meld them together to create this piece. anywho, if it bothers you, i understand! ❤️ I yoinked a lot of the Spanish from my Spanish learners textbook, hopefully, it's acceptable.

He knew he wanted you from the first day he saw you in the tea cafe.

Jess and he rarely visited the tea shop. It was settled on the edge of campus. Close to the social sciences and arts, but far from the work he did in the Genetics department. As a Ph.D. student, however, not all the work was done in the lab. Jess liked to see the different types of people that came to this tea cafe, where the chair cushions were fluffy emerald pillows and plants hovered overhead.

“Miguel? What's---”

You stood apart from the other students with their sloppy, half-cropped, or frumpy appearances, there was a particular care you took to dressing. It was the embroidered bow in your hair that drew his attention. When you left to fetch a refill of chai, he noticed the soft, frilled socks in tiny ankle boots. He just knew you would taste sweet, leering as he watched you at the drink bar. Jess glanced in your direction, the way you adorably bowed your head after the tea artist gave you your drink, and just knew. Jess looked over her shoulder.

“Not her.”

Jess’s voice was a drawn-out sigh of your name, punctuated by her fist beating the table. Miguel perked at the mention of your name. Oh, so she knew you. She was probably sick of his shit. Good, he was also sick of being used as a vibe check for the lesbians she wanted to pick up.

“Don’t you have enough side pieces?”

Miguel didn’t respond.

“She probably has a boyfriend. Or a girlfriend. Look who she's with.”

That finally got a response.

“You don’t know that,” he kept his eyes straight ahead. You caught him staring, wiggling your little fingers in a hello as you sat at a table. "I want her."

You sat with an incredibly frumpy, annoying photography student who once took his picture for the lab website. Could he be… his attention wavered when you pulled out a book: Español para el siglo. His lips quivered into a wildly sardonic grin. Oh no, no no. It was too easy.

“You’ll ruin her. She’s too innocent.”

He leaned in.

“Are you going to help me or not?”

“Buenas tardes,”

Two chairs and a thin desk. The small study room was more of a glorified broom closet for its students. You were lucky that there was a large window that looked out over the student union, flowers blooming up its brick siding. Bits of lush dark green ivy poked into the window’s view from the library’s tall wall. As the sun set on campus, rich orange and pink settled over the sunset on that warm Friday afternoon. At least the sight was pretty for how overwhelmingly small the space was.

It wasn’t the space that bothered you. It was your tutor.

He was big-- big big. Not just a little big, but really big. The kind of big that was on bodybuilding competitions. It made his long, blue-grey muscle shirt and grey sweats look tiny, sucked to his well-pumped muscle. The room felt a lot smaller as you looked at him, his long brown hair whipped back over his neck. His eyebrows raised on his dark forehead, arms turning one over another, a bundle of muscle.

“Ah... you're him? The man from the tea shop.”

He pulled free his sunglasses and set them down. His warm chocolate eyes glanced from the edge of your now too-short skirt to the glint of a dagger necklace that beat between your breasts. He’s staring. Why is he staring-- you finger the dagger between your thumb and index fingers, soothing yourself with the manipulation.

“Miguel.” He warmed, pulling the seat out beside him. His voice was buttery and smooth, almost like rich caramel. The lilt in his voice lightened, inviting you to take a seat by him. You should. You thought. Sit down. “Siéntate."

You stared.

"I said sit down.”

That was a bad idea. You paused, slipping the bag down from under your shoulder and onto the beige tile by the door. Miguel watched every slight movement. That’s fine. It’s natural to do that. You tugged the bottom of your skirt and took a seat beside him. Miguel pushed the chair back in, pushing your chest to the edge of the desk space. Oh-- oh boy, he was strong. Of course, he was, he was built like a--

“Bueno. Now you're settled. How can I help you?”

Do that again.

“Me? Oh! I... Jess said you could help me need to pass a test,” you murmured. The four semesters of Spanish seemed relatively easy compared to being stuffed next to this Adonis in this tiny study room. Your legs settled over your skirt, hands working over one another to will down the pulse of your wily excitement. What was wrong with you? “To pass my language requirement.”

You should have been able to do that alone but-- let’s say you weren’t the most applied to the language in your childhood. A tutor was a great alternative to embarrassment and thousands of dollars in classes. If only he didn’t look like… this. His large hand left the pasty back of your chair.

“Hm,” he paused. “¿Puedes hablar español?”

“Sí,” you murmured. “My mami was-- well, I should have listened to her.”

Hm.

You want to know what Hm means. Your leg tremored on its own accord. He swept a leather bag by his side up and pulled out a thick folder, running across several tabs. Lab notes, diet plans, pruebas.

“It happens,” he notes, sliding a page free. “Let’s see how much you know, princesa.”

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to know more, to hear the hum of Spanish bouncing off his lips. It was a world apart from your mother’s shrill screams on Saturday mornings to clean an already clean house. It held its own beauty and mystery when he spoke it. You took the page from him, setting it down on the bland tablespace by your phone, lighting up with a notification.

Jess When you meet Miguel, don’t do it.

"¿Princesa?" you asked.

"You dress like one. Don’t worry if you fail,” you plucked out a pink mechanical pencil, complete with little animated characters tightened around the wrapping. You perked at his words, choking a small smile. “I expect you to.”

Why was he like this? You took another unfortunate look at him, his large forearm plastered over the desk, making the book he had to look like peanuts in comparison. God, he was hot-- you felt comparatively hideous, drooling over a man that was out of your league. Maybe he could be your piece of eye candy this year. Your phone buzzed along the table again. Miguel’s eyes shot to it, a frown pulling at his lips.

Jess Don’t fuck him. He can’t keep his dick to himself.

He reaches over, flipping your phone down with an overworked smile sundering his expression. It’s almost fake.

“Are you…” you turned your eyes to the questions on the page. “A student?”

“Grad student,” Miguel answered. So, older than you then. “I graduated with a BA in Spanish and a BS in Genetics.”

“Oh! A dual degree?” The man couldn’t be normal. He had to do both. “Did it… take a while?”

“No, it was accelerated.”

He was unreal. There was no way this man was ordinary. It was physically impossible for the man to be that hot and successful. You scribbled across the page, nipping the back of your pencil at particularly hard questions.

“So you just do this for… a living?” you asked him.

“I teach and train clients, yes.”

“Train?”

“Gym,” Miguel set his cheek on his fist.

“I do cardio with Jess. No strength training for me.” Jess-- who suggested Miguel to you. You had some shit to bitch at her about the next time you saw her. Namely, why she didn’t warn you about Miguel. He was a boon for chaos in your life.

“I’d waste your time. I’m all marshmallow,” you pat your soft belly. “All pan dulce and burros.”

He chuckled.

“You have a beautiful body.”

And that was that. You set the pencil down on a page half full of answers, glancing toward his full lips. They were quirked into an arrogant smirk. He knew the effect he had on women. He glanced to the page, then to you, his lips growing into a smile laden with arrogance.

“Your hips--” he glanced down, “My girls couldn’t pay to get them.”

He noticed. You supposed that the miniskirt wasn’t the best choice for meeting a new man.

“Do you talk to everyone like this?”

“No. Only the ones that look at me like you did."

Oh.

If it were a game of whom ate whom up first, you had to be honest-- it may have been you. You couldn’t shoot anything back at that, angling your head down at the page guiltily. A sigh fell from his chest. His large hand came to the back of your head, cupping the thick bow on the back of your head. His fingers ran across the silk, teasing it between his fingers.

“Calm down, you’re not the first one to do it. You won't be the last,” he turned your head to look at him, large fingers combing through the strands of your hair. He chased the panic in your wide eyes, doe eyes blown wide. Your heartbeat soared into your chest, choking you there, looking for an outlet from your shame.

“Breathe for me,” he leaned in, his warm breath tingling your ear. His cologne was clean, like the lapse of the waves on the shore back home where the tropical heat was a second skin. You listened, taking a weary, deep breath in, then out again. Again.

“Go on.” His knuckles rapped on the sheet. Miguel’s hand fell away. You found yourself longing for it again.

“He’s gorgeous.”

“I told you not to fuck him," your superior, Jess said, her feet bouncing off the stairstepper effortlessly.

“I didn't-- I just, he called me beautiful.”

“He would call anyone beautiful if it meant fucking them. Don’t fall for it.”

You knew Jess wouldn’t say it unless she were serious. She always knew what you needed help with, where to locate a good solution, and had the right words to calm you down.

“How?” you said, louder than you intended. You were suddenly thankful for the pounding music that beat down on your ears in your school’s gym and the rush of people that came and went. “Jess, you’re a lesbian. You don’t understand-- he’s thick. Like, he’s luchador status big. Big, big.”

“I’ve dated some thick women.”

“And he likes me,” you said pointedly, rushing to the topmost step, remembering his words. The way he calmed you down from your embarrassment, seeming without concern for his own body. It was… sweet. “Men usually don’t like me, Jess. I’m too… soft.”

“Okay, girl, whatever,” you were pretty sure she rolled her eyes. “Unless you’re going to be another one of his fuck toys, just ignore him.”

“How?”

Her stare trained on the floors lapsed. Thirty and she was still going. “If you don’t want him, just fire him. What’s going to do? Come find you?”

You stopped for the entirety of five… or ten seconds. Enough to consider her words. Enough to quite literally get plop off the stair stepper and onto the cold floor. Jess exhaled a stale breath, reaching over to jam the STOP button on your machine. Ow.

“Good job.”

Miguel likes to tutor you. Not because you’re good at Spanish, no, for a girl that grew up with a Spanish mother, your skills are quite poor. But he likes the opportunity to have you in a room all by yourself, late at night. Wednesdays are great days for that.

Your soft buttercup yellow dress is short today, exposing your thick thighs that take up so much of the chair. He pretends that he’s listening as you go over a list of irregular verbs, your lip pouting in response to the irregular verbs. Some were simple in their familiarity like poder with endings such as pudiste; but the plurals and other irregular verbs, you pouted at. It was cute.

“Miggy, it’s not funny, ” Oh, nicknames now. Miguel throws a glance at your glossy lips, undoubtedly sticky but oh so soft looking.

“I never said it was.”

“You’re smirking.”

“Then don’t whine,” he said. “It’s cute.”

“Oh--” As to be expected, you shifted your hands between your legs, drawing your skirt in between your legs. He faltered and took a glance, coasting his eye over its edges and memorizing the way it fell over your skin. You’ll ruin her, he remembers Jess saying. She wasn’t wrong, he sensed the bit of it now, how close you sat--

“Take a break, princesa. Vocabulary-- ascendencia.”

Rather than take a break, you turned and caught the corner of his lips in what was a terrible, cherry-red kiss that would stain his skin. But the connection of your lips, puckered in a pouting kiss on his skin, caught him off guard.

“Descent,” you took his red pen out of his loose grip, scribbling descent by the word. Fuck. Miguel took a sip of now cold coffee. A smile kept pulling at his cheeks, looking out of the window and catching the slight reflection of your lipstick smeared across his lip and cheek, he bobs his head into a nod.

“Correcto.”

You’re with Peter the first time you see Miguel with another woman.

It’s at lunch. Tuesdays and Thursdays are regularly spent running to the College of Arts, waiting for Peter to get out, and a picnic. Today, you forgot to bring lunch, running off to the union hand wrapped around his elbow as he talked to you about a bright new camera lens filter.

“These new pictures are going to come out perfect! Thanks for lending me the money,” he beamed. You loved the way he talked about his art-- stopping to show you his newest pictures of the camera that hung around his neck. Peter was always good with a camera, catching you in all the prettiest angles in your trade of photos for… sponsoring a lens or whatever. Or, at least, bringing down the cost. “Look at this one. Look how pretty you look in that dress, kinda like a pin-up! We should do some’a those next.”

Feet thumping over the pavement, you failed to sense Miguel's presence until you smelled his peppery cologne carried on the air. There, on a bench, he sat next to a girl. She was pretty, with long dark hair and soft skin. Her hand was on his thigh and his arm around her shoulder, eating the last bit of a flaky empanada-- your eyes burned, the closeness of her head on his shoulder, clearly done and finished, waiting for whatever next plan he had. You don’t want to know what that could be.

“Huh? Oh. hi Miguel!” Peter waved to your dismay. You held onto him a little tighter, wringing circles around his sleeve. Miguel spares you two a glance, his eyebrows pushing together. But he waves, lazy and short. You stifle the hot prick of tears at the corner of your eyes and yank Peter away. “Wha-- I’m coming, I’m coming!"

Days later, Peter has a plan.

“I’ve got it-- the solution to your tea guy problem! You should have told me sooner that it was Miguel.”

Peter was very excited. Why, you weren’t sure. He liked to feel helpful. That’s why he was a photographer. Photography lets others feel beautiful and seen. He picked at your lunch, his head flopped on your thigh as he worked through his camera.

“I’ll be your boyfriend!”

“You want to be my boyfriend?” you offered him a grape. He opened his mouth with an adorable ‘ah’ of his his lips. You slipped the grape between his lips. He chewed appreciatively. “I don’t know, Peter. Isn’t it lying?”

“C’mon, I know Miguel. He’s macho. The kind of guy you have to make jealous. And I can do it! I’m boyfriend material. Aren’t I?”

“Sí. But I don’t think I can make him jealous.”

It was a sunshiney day, sprawled out at lunch on a cool picnic blanket, tracing the clouds when you heard his voice. Soft, smooth, inviting. Your head spun around, this time with a lean blonde-haired girl-- her legs were long, tummy nice and flat, blue eyes shining like little sapphires set in her pale face. She swooned on his arm. The perfect sorority princess. What if he called her princesa, too?

“--close lab with me--”

“I can do it myself.”

Miguel’s eyes caught yours, raising his hand lazily to greet you as he walked down the sidewalk, undoubtedly back to his genetics lab on the other side of campus. Over where brilliant boys and girls and theys were, rushing through accelerated scientific programs while you figured out how to fix broken artifacts. He lived in another impossible world. A realm far away from Peter and you: photography and the maintenance of culture and art.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Peter's eyes were glossy with concern. “It’s okay. We don’t have to-- did I say something wrong?”

You shook your head. Peter sat up, his eyes bounced up-- from Miguel over his shoulder to your sudden sad eyes. Peter set his hand on your cheek, the fibers of his soft pink cardigan tickling your jaw. Your eyes tore from Miguel, whose pace became sluggish as if steps along took immense effort. Peter’s nose bumped against yours, clumsy and oh so Peterish-- his hand on the middle of your back, his warm but cracked lips swallowing the gasp that tumbled from your lips. He tasted of sweet fruit, the sloppy lunch you shared, and a silly comfort.

He watching? Peter murmured against your lips.

You nearly forgot to return the kiss, captured in the way Miguel stared-- something in his warm brown eyes was almost wounded. Peter shoved you onto the picnic blanket, a soft sorry murmured under his breath as his thin frame fell between your legs. Miguel stomped away, his bumbling blonde rushing to keep up.

“Oh yeah,” Peter rolled over onto his back, crossing his legs one over another. You watched Miguel stomp past the tall hedges, out of your line of sight. “He’s gonna be mad at you.”

“Peter!”

Miguel was still in a bad mood hours later.

“¡Qué surpresa!” he murmured, offering you your paper blotted with red circles. “You did remarkably shit on this test. Do you focus on anything? Or just Peter?”

“Perdona me.” Your focus was shot with his consistent presence in your life. Not that he could appreciate that.

“How long are you going to keep wasting my time?”

“Are you talking about the Spanish or--”

Miguel set the red pen down, a sharp slam snapping the pen under his force. The fragile plastic snapped into shards of plastic. He flicked it away, paper and pen both, his large hand flexing in and out of a closed fist. You traced the tracks of his veins along his forearm.

“Are you mad that I kissed you?”

“Stop.”

“Or are you angry that Peter did?”

“Don’t touch me.”

Though he said that, you didn’t listen. You slid out of the chair and in between his spread legs, your hands trailing his handsome jawline. He jerked back when your lips caught his, the legs of his chair hitting the wall. Though he said no, his mouth opened to your kiss, and his palms flushed against your soft cheeks. You pinned him between your body and the wall-- and though you were sure he’d quickly whirl you off if he really wanted to, he didn’t. His tongue pushed into your mouth, owning yours. His hands skimmed your back, trailing lower and lower down your deep red dress until he connected with your ass.

“You need to stop.” Miguel broke from his kiss. Though he said that, he brought you onto his lap. You felt little in his large arms, his hands guiding your hips over his crotch. “Before I do something you’ll regret.”

You listened to the sounds of the library’s floor. The scrunch of take out into the trash, the sing of a door opening and closing. It was dinner time. Most everyone had gone to get their snacks— and here you were, looking down at Miguel with rapt eyes.

“Peter is just a friend.”

“A friend who happens to jam his tongue down your throat,” he turned the word over on his tongue and found offense in it. “Now why do I doubt that?”

“He only wanted to help.”

“By kissing you?”

Your fingers trailed his jaw, dipping back down for another kiss if only to say you could. That Miguel couldn’t tell you what to do. A sound of frustration ripped up his throat. You felt him, his dick twitching to life behind those sweatpants. He felt big. You bit your lower lip— a movement that didn’t escape his attentive eyes.

“By making you as jealous,” You slid off his lap and onto the dirty floor. But as you lifted a hand, cupping his dick through the heavy fabric, he couldn’t bear to stop you.

His lips pulled in a wicked grin, your soft palm stroking along his length. He hooked his thumbs into his sweats, yanking them down over his knees and onto the floor. His cock kissed his belly, straining with droplets of moisture at the tip. Miguel set his hand on your shoulder and forced you to heel on the floor. His temperament evened out. “You were jealous.”

“Yes--” you murmured. “Are.. those girls, are they special?”

“Special? No, none of them are.”

“I want to be.”

“That so?” Your soft hands trailed along the dark hair on his calves, up his thighs, settling your nose where his muscular hand tightened around the root. He wrenched his swarthy hand along his length, drawing along his veiny cock shamelessly. "Let's see how much you do, princesa."

“Please.”

“Aquí se habla español.” Miguel teased. Your fingers dipped down, small tickles of your fingertips as his heavy balls. He watched you massage them with half-lidded eyes, his lips pursing in a pleased hum.

“Por favor.”

“Abre,” you did, sliding your soft mouth open, a well of saliva on your tongue. Miguel slid himself into your warm mouth, a ruptured groan fizzing in his chest. You didn’t want to be too loud— someone might look into the small window on the door, and see you on your knees between Miguel’s thick legs, sucking his cock down when you should be going over that test you just failed.

You caught the salty beads at Miguel’s top on your tongue, sliding sloppily around his thick head, and lapping at his slit for more. Your soft hands stroked along his length, clumsy and shy. He hummed in approval, a sound you were more than thankful to elicit. Miguel took a fist full of your hair and drove himself into your mouth, your tongue stroking the underside of his length.

“Pero mira esto,” Miguel wrenched his head in your hair, grabbing handfuls of it in his palm. “You can focus on something. Sucking my dick.”

Even if you wanted to look up, Miguel drove your head down onto his dick, the dark, trimmed tuft of his pubic hair tickling your nose. He drew his hips back. You nearly pulled off him, if not for his hand assuring that you wouldn’t move off of it. Drool coursed down from your lips, soaking your chin and neck, connecting to his cock as if it were a spiderweb. Your cheeks flushed with blood— you must have looked a mess.

“Coño," Miguel tutted with his tongue, grasping his phone. Your lips pursed around his tip, eyes flickering up to catch the lens of his phone camera on your ruined face. A picture or a video, you weren’t entirely sure. Only that it sent thumps of pleasure down your core to know he wanted to record it, keep it close. You suckled along his sensitive head, working his moans free. He set his phone aside.

Miguel stood and dragged your head along with him to pin you between the ledge of the desk space and his wonderful hips. His hands slipped behind your head, keeping you still and steady, driving himself deep into your mouth. Past your tongue, down your throat, it felt like he hit parts of you that you could only dream of. You struggled with his size, choking the urge to swallow him when he forced you to hold him there. As if your throat was just a hole for his pleasure. Your sad attempt to suckle him down was tempered by the rocking of his hips, his needy face fucking. Your eyes screwed shut, bits of color dancing behind your eyes, the easiest way to deal with this was to focus— on the way he tasted, the scent of his fresh body wash, the light judder of his hips as he came close.

"Hah-- ay, qué rico," his nails scraped the back of your neck, sloppy and undefined thrusts filling your throat. He spurts thick ropes of his cum down your throat and mouth, withdrawing to jerk the last bursts of his cum over your lips. Miguel’s breath fell from his lips in heavy gulps, meeting yours down on your aching knees. Strings of coughed-up cum connected your sodden lips to his cock, globs of his seed slipping between your breasts. You ached.

“Tate quieta.”

You don’t know where you’d go, your palms catching yourself on the floor. He snapped another photo, humming appreciatively. Miguel reached into his gym bag, pulling a sweaty shirt free. Your fingers dipped into his warm cum that spattered across your warm chest, drawing it to your lips. He tasted salty, tangy, and just right.

"You look so-- so beautiful, princesa, just perfect," Miguel bent down, wiping the rest of his mess from your chest and face, gently stroking away all evidence of your face fucking before cleaning his cock and tucking himself away into his sweatpants. He chucked the t-shirt back into his bag, glazing his eyes over your hazy, exhausted eyes. He crouched down.

“Rule one, I never share my women,” he settled his knuckle under your chin, urging you to look him in the eyes. Something told him you wouldn't be as easy as the others, but for some reason, he shrugged the thought aside. “As long as I'm fucking you, you date no one but me. If I find out you are, we're done. Am I clear?”

He was a walking red flag. But for once, in your good girl life, you wanted that. You wanted to fuck in the library-- against the genetics building late at night-- to kiss him during a sunny picnic. More than you wanted a lot of things. His eyes went soft with your answer.

“Claro que sí, Miggy.”

He loves it when he gets what he wants.

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2K notes · View notes

salvadorbonaparte · 11 months

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Since my big Languages and Linguistics MEGA folder post is approaching 200k notes (wow) I am celebrating with some highlights from my collection:

Africa: over 90 languages so far. The Swahili and Amharic resources are pretty decent so far and I'm constantly on the lookout for more languages and more resources.

The Americas: over 100 languages of North America and over 80 languages of Central and South America and the Caribbean. Check out the different varieties for Quechua and my Navajo followers are invited to check out the selection of Navajo books, some of which are apparently rare to come by in print.

Ancient and Medieval Languages: "only" 18 languages so far but I'm pretty pleased with the selection of Latin and Old/Middle English books.

Asia: over 130 languages and I want to highlight the diversity of 16 Arabic dialects covered.

Australia: over 40 languages so far.

Constructed Languages: over a dozen languages, including Hamlet in the original Klingon.

Creoles: two dozen languages and some materials on creole linguistics.

Europe: over 60 languages. I want to highlight the generous donations I have received, including but not limited to Aragonese, Catalan, Occitan and 6 Sámi languages. I also want to highlight the Spanish literature section and a growing collection of World Englishes.

Eurasia: over 25 languages that were classified as Eurasian to avoid discussions whether they belong in Europe or Asia. If you can't find a language in either folder it might be there.

History, Culture, Science etc: Everything not language related but interesting, including a collection of "very short introductions", a growing collection of queer and gender studies books, a lot on horror and monsters, a varied history section (with a hidden compartment of the Aubreyad books ssshhhh), and small collections from everything like ethnobotany to travel guides.

Jewish Languages: 8 languages, a pretty extensive selection of Yiddish textbooks, grammars, dictionaries and literature, as well as several books on Jewish religion, culture and history.

Linguistics: 15 folders and a little bit of everything, including pop linguistics for people who want to get started. You can also find a lot of the books I used during my linguistics degree in several folders, especially the sociolinguistics one.

Literature: I have a collection of classic and modern classic literature, poetry and short stories, with a focus on the over 140 poetry collections from around the world so far.

Polynesia, Micronesia, Melanesia: over 40 languages and I want to highlight the collection for Māori, Cook Islands Māori and Moriori.

Programming Languages: Not often included in these lists but I got some for you (roughly 5)

Sign Languages: over 30 languages and books on sign language histories and Deaf cultures. I want to highlight especially the book on Martha's Vineyard Sign Language and the biography of Laura Redden Searing.

Translation Studies: Everything a translation student needs with a growing audiovisual translation collection

And the best news: the folders are still being updated regularly!

#Langblr #Lingblr

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lacedinweb22 · 10 months

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new ride 🏍️༻ (Miguel O’Hara x reader)

🕸️ Entangled series 🕸️ ch. 3 prev part

author’s note: I had this hot vision of motorcycle Miguel last week then came across this artwork which completely cemented my idea. Check out the artist!!!! 💘🕸 ALSO this is a flashback chapter!!!

Summary: Your best friend/crush, Miguel, comes over to study with you. His arrival to your apartment surprises you, and gives you a new reason to procrastinate and get closer to him. CW: none

✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊

I looked down at our text conversation, pacing in my bedroom.

Miguel: I’m on my way from Alchemax :) give me 5

Me: Traffic is bad rn so drive safe :D I’ll be waiting in front Me: Also it’s so dark out so drive carefully. don’t text and drive

I threw my phone on my bed and finished getting ready and cleaning up my place. I headed out and stood in front of my apartment complex, nearing the sidewalk so he could park and I could help him with his books and our lab equipment, though I knew he would reject my help.

I stared down the street waiting for Miguel when headlights approached, blinding me, and spotlighting me in the darkness. The dark blue motorcycle pulled up in front of me, parking exactly where Miguel was supposed to park. I shyly backed up into the grass to avoid blocking their path. I took a deep breath, “Sir, I was… saving this spot for a friend,” I blurted, attempting to be assertive. He took his helmet off, revealing Miguel under. "Oh yeah?" he asked, smirking as he wiped sweat from his forehead. "Miguel," I muttered, confused.

His wavy brown hair was messy, damp with sweat, cascading onto his face, and his cheeks were rosy. I admired his black fingerless gloves wrapped around his muscular hands, which gripped tightly around his motorcycle’s handlebars. He wore a compression shirt, snug around his biceps, and his dark gray pants that his crimson briefs peeked out of. He turned the engine off then got off of it. He grabbed his backpack and textbooks out from the back of the bike and slung it onto his shoulder, while I grabbed the heavy textbooks from his hands and continued to stare at him in awe.

I snapped myself out of it as Miguel looked at me through his furrowed brows, while he locked his helmet to his mirror. “Miguel, when were you going to– I mean– since when did you have a motorcycle?” I asked, interrogating him. “Since always,” he replied, shrugging. He walked past me and towards my apartment, avoiding my questions, and supporting his guiltiness. I chased after him.

“No, you liar, I’ve never seen… When did you even…?” “Y/N, I always bring the car so you can ride with me. It would be too dangerous and… I wouldn’t want to risk anything with you,” he explained. “So you only drive your car… for me?” I asked, hiding how flattered I was. He nodded.

“Okay but that doesn’t change the fact that you’ve still been keeping this from me,” I shrugged, “I mean, Miguel, you’ve been living a double life. You’re a double-agent, double-crossing, traitor, backstabbing, liar,” I accused jokingly, chasing after him. I caught up to him at my door, as I watched him scoff and smile, avoiding me as he opened my apartment door and entered before me.

“You have to make it up to me,” I exclaimed, “I mean, don’t you think it would be a little fucked for you to drive over here with your fancy new ride, and rub it in my face just to not let me ride with you,” I said, shrugging, blocking his way. “And that is exactly why I kept it from you,” he said, sarcastically smiling, walking around me and into the kitchen. He dropped his backpack to the floor as I placed the pile of books onto the kitchen counter. He sat at the counter, dragging the textbooks in front of him, and opening them up, ready to study. “But– but–” “It’s not safe, Y/N,” he declared, firmly. “Damn, okay,” I muttered, sitting beside him, slumping and slowly opening up my notebook. I sighed and began to write. He turned to me then hung his head low, sighing to himself, and muttering in Spanish.

“You brat,” he said, as he stood up and slammed his textbook closed. He walked towards the front door, heading back to his motorcycle. I followed happily behind him.

He stood beside his motorcycle, his hands on his hips, “Get over here,” he demanded. I walked quickly across the grass then arrived on the opposite side of his motorcycle, awaiting his instructions.

“Get on top,” he demanded. Never thought I’d hear him say those words. “Okay, geez” I muttered, slinging one leg across the bike, trying to climb up. He watched me struggle, his arms crossed, as he rolled his eyes. “Not all of us are fucking 6’9” Miguel, help me up,” I exclaimed, annoyed.

He came to my side of the bike, and put his hand underneath my thigh, lifting me up onto it.

I sat on his bike, as he stood tall beside me. “Nice,” I said, nodding excitedly. “Good, now safety,” he said, pulling an extra helmet out from the back. He grabbed his helmet and rested it on my lap as he helped me put the spare on. He brushed my hair back, gently moving it out of my face and sliding the helmet onto me, adjusting it. He lifted the shield up so he could see my eyes.

“Do I look cool?” I asked, grinning with my eyes. He stepped back, taking in the view of me hovering on his bike. “So cool… and kind of…” “hot,” I finished, confidently. “I feel like all-black was the way to go today,” I said, looking down at my pants, tracing my hands along my hips and thighs. He nodded, smiling down at me, “you do look… hot,” he affirmed, nodding, his gaze soft on me. He cleared his throat then came back closer to me, adjusting the helmet.

He traced his fingers down from the bottom of the helmet to the black cord around my neck. “You’ve always eyed this one,” I whispered nervously, as I looked up at him. “Triquetra: body, mind, spirit,” he said, tracing it. I nodded. “Your Irish is showing,” I muttered, nudging him as he smiled down at me. “Take it,” I said, as I undid it and began to wrap it around his neck. “No, what are you doing, Y/N? It’s yours,” he argued, gently pushing my hands away. “Don’t be annoying. I’m going to Dublin this summer, I’ll buy a new one,” I pushed. He surrendered, as I wrapped it around his neck. I continued, “This one has been mine since forever, so it has luck and my… essence, so you can… wear it when you’re driving or whenever you need protection,” I reasoned, clasping it.

“Thank you, Y/N. I’m never taking this off,” he said, looking down at it, his fingers caressing the charm. “So,” he took a deep breath then climbed onto the bike, now sitting in front of me. He pulled his helmet on then turned it on, now gripping the handlebars. “Scoot closer to me,” he said, reaching behind him to grab my arms and wrap them around him. “We’ll ride, but only for a bit,” he asserted. “Okay,” I whispered. He reached back and grabbed under my thighs, lifting me effortlessly up and closer to him, my thighs now completely wrapped around him. He smelled like cinnamon and… Miguel. I lowered the shield on my helmet, my face flushed. His gloved hands clenched around the bars, as he slowly started to drive.

We drove down the street, as I held onto his muscular body tightly. I’m enjoying this a little too much. “We should head into the main city, just barely, for a little,” I whined. “We have to study,” he exclaimed back at me, through the wind. “Please, just for a bit, for me,” I said, squeezing him tighter. I felt him exhale against my chest. He dropped his head low, defeated. He headed towards the freeway. “I hate you,” he exclaimed. I grinned under my helmet, leaning my head into his back. He sped up, my hair combed by the wind.

We entered the main city, the huge skyscrapers lit up, shining above us. I looked up in awe. “You good back there?” he called out, patting my leg. I squeezed him tightly, nodding against him. We drove through the city, then eventually headed back.

We pulled up in front of my apartment, as he turned the engine off and got off of the bike. He took his helmet off and ran his fingers through his hair. He stood beside me, and helped me take off mine. He lifted it off of me slowly, his eyes immediately meeting mine.

“See, not as dangerous as you thought it would be, huh?” I teased, hoping it would convince him to let me ride with him again.

“Mmmm, you are still in one piece,” he said, shrugging, helping me get off of the bike. “So, you’ll invite me to ride with you again, someday, maybe?” I asked, smiling up at him, leaning closer to him. “I’ll consider it,” he said, smirking down at me as we walked to my apartment to study. “Fair enough.”

✧༺♥༻∞

next part

Tag List: @wingedturtledream @that-one-weeb-buts-its-the-main @infirebaby @skaochii @bat-yo-us @lostpirate79 @renn-pumkin-head @princessa-micomicona @qundadedingle11 @waiif-uwu @punpuun @migueloharaslxt @thbidkbutok @00macy2022 @acehyacinth

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iaeriy · 29 days

Text

sneak out • fermín

summary; sneaking out of classes for ‘free’ time (based on this request!!

word count; 2.8k!!!

warning; spanish sentences, smut, slapping, bathroom sex, squirting

a/n: took awhile but here ya go! 🏩

You sighed in annoyance attempting to find another textbook, “i’m sure its in your bag!” aurora spoke, you whined in annoyance. You grabbed your tote checking, “oh found it!” You shouted, you ran out your room. “okay we can go now!” you said, she smiled looking at you. “gavi is picking us up..” she spoke, you nodded your head sitting on the kitchen stool. “is fer-“ she cut you off, “yes he’ll be there too.” she said, you giggled. Fermin and gavi were best freinds ever since they were particularly trained under barcelonas football academy, aurora was gavis older sister. You in the other hand were dating fermín, he was a very sweet kind hearted boy..although.. onthe other hand..he was a very..different person in private. You swung your legs around the stool, she laughed at your movements. “can’t believe how short you are..” she mumbled, you rolled your eyes. “funny..your brother is too..” you spoke.

she smiled at your comment, “come on let’s go now! they’re here!” she said, you got up walking to the door. she followed you behind, “go in the back.” gavi said, you nodded your head. opening the back door, you giggled when you saw none other but fermín. you sat on the back next to him, meanwhile aurora sat on the front. “hi mi amor..” he said, you kissed his cheek. “you trust mister grumpy pants here driving your car?” you spoke, gavi turned his head. “yes he does actually! what about you.” he said, you rolled your eyes. “he trusts me enough..” you spoke, he chuckled driving to the building. fermíns hand restrd on your thigh, your head resting on his shoulder. he watched you play a small little game on your phone, “tan hermosa eres..” (how cute you are..” he whispered, you laughed at the comment. “me estás mirando jugar el juego?” (you’re watching me play the game?) you said, he nodded his head. his hand squished your thigh, you looked at him. “no lo hagas..” (don’t do it..) you whispered quietly, he pouted. his fingers tracing up to your inner thigh.

you attempted to ignore the touch, he kissed around your jaw. you huffed out, turning your head. you held his chin, he looked at you. “no. not in here.” you said smacking his cheek playfully, he kissed your forehead. “fine. i’ll make it up.” he said, going back to watching you play your game. “we’re here you love birds.” gavi spoke, you got off fermín. the two of you getting out the car, followed by gavi and aurora. you locked your arm with his, following him. “i hate not having class with you.” he murmured, you giggled. “poor baby..it’s okay..you’ll see me during the free period.” you spoke. you, gavi and aurora said your goodbyes, fermín wallking you to class. “i don’t want to leave..” he sighed, you giggled. “it’ll be for an hour..okay? i love you.” you said kissing his lips, he kissed back. you smiled walking into your class.

you put your wired headphones on, sitting down on your seat, being focused in you got your textbook starting to write notes. writing down, doodling, taking notes.

30 minutes later..

your phone chimed through your headphones, the ringtone maming you jump up. you opened up your phone checking at the notification.

mi amorcito 🩵: im outside waiting for you right now, come out now..

you looked up, swallowing down nervously. you gathered your stuff putting them back in your tote bag. you got up excusing yourself, you walked outside the small building. you looked around, pulling your phone out clicking on his contact, texting him.

you: i’m outsidee

fermín went behind you grabbing you by your waist, you screamed smacking him on the chest. “seriously!” you said, he chuckled kissing your cheek. you put your phone on your bag, taking off your headphones. he held your hand, “come on..” he said, you frowned “where are we going..!” you whined, he smiled. the two of you walking another building, you were curious. that wasn’t until you reached the building, it was empty. more of a small living room area, right across were vending machines then a big hallway, you looked around. “why haven’t i seen this place..” you whispered, he chuckled. “i don’t take you out as much..” he said, you giggled. “it’s very big..thought everything echoes.” you rolled your eyes, you walked around looking at every corner. fermín went behind you, carrying you, a squeal coming out of you. “fermín! put me down! someone could catch us!” you whined, he chuckled. “fine.” he said, putting you down. he grabbed your hand pulling you to a hallway, you followed him behind like a lost puppy. “ven apúrate oyi a alguien!” (come on hurry up!) he whisper yelled, he opened the bathroom door getting as you quietly ran inside.

you closed the door quietly, you turned around as he pinned you against the door. you looked up at him, “what are you doing! we’re going to get caught!” you whispered, he shook his head. “just stay quiet..” he spoke quietly, you furrowed your brows. you felt him playing with the bow on your shirt, his eyes narrowed down slighty widening when he saw you wearing a skirt. you were quiet, couldn’t even hear your breathing at all. meanwhile for fermín, he was already thinking..thinking what he could do right now. you looked at him, “what’s wrong..you’re zoned out..” you said, he shook his head. “oh, nothing..” he spoke, you smiled kissing his cheek. he watched you walk away, the skirt catching his attention. you fixed the little bow-string you used to cover up your hairtie from your braids, fermín sneaked behind you, his hand gliding up to your skin. he squeezed your thigh, you blushed heavily looking down still fixing your hair. “fermí..” you mumbled in a singingly tone.

he began kissing and nibbling on your neck, you raised your head up watching him through the mirror. “w-what are you doing..” you whispered, he continued kissing your skin. his fingers pulling your skirt up, “h-hey!” you whined, he slapped your ass. you startled at the smack looking at him, “be quiet, we don’t want to get caught..remember..” he said, you nodded your head. you turned around facing him, your eyes looking down before looking up at him. “how did this happen..” you frowned. “hellooooo..answer m-“ fermíns lip smashed against yours, you kissed back wrapping your arms around his neck. he grabbed you by your ass picking you up, placing you on the sink. your hands traveling to his shirt, you raised it up as he took it off, lips still glued onto you. your hands trailing everywhere on his chest, he tugged on your shirt. “arms up.” he whispered, you nodded breathing heavily as you lifted your arms up. he pulled your shirt up, you kissed him again cupping his cheeks. you tugged on his pants, “please..” you breathlessly whispered, he chuckled.

“needy aren’t you?” he spoke, you kept tugging on the side of the jeans whining, he slapped your boob. you whined, staring at him, “go on, unbutton them.” he said, you didn’t hesitate to unbutton his pants, you blushed at the print aching through his boxers. he cupped your cheek kissing you again, you kissed back with a whimper feeling his hand harshly squeeze your ass. he pulled your skirt down as your thumb caressed his length in circles, you bit his lip teasingly. his fingers interlocking in between the sides of your panties, he pulled them down as you giggled. he turned you around in a swift movement causing you to gasp, he squished your ass cheek giving it a slight slap. you bit down on your lip holding your noise in, he began kissing your neck softly, you leaned your head backing resting it against his shoulder. you felt his hands trickle down to your pussy, he began rubbing on your clit causing you to slightly moan. you held onto the sink, his fingers rubbing your clit in a circular motion, the wet kisses planted on your neck causing your breathing to hitch out.

“u-ugh! just..” you whined out, he smacked your ass. “be patient. lower your voice too.” he muttered, you noddes your head looking down. he pulled down his boxers, he slapped your ass as you shuddered. “try not to be as loud..” he whispered, sliding himself in. you moaned softly, eyes rolling back at the stretch. he held onto the sink next to you, thrusting slowly at first. you leaned your head to the side, letting fermin kiss your neck more. he groaned at your stretch, “fuck..you’re so tight..” he whispered, you whimpered at his hand squeezing your ass, “i don’t think i can..stay this q-quiet..” you whispered out, moaning when he pulled out and slammed himself again. “e-especially..if y-you keep doing that..” you whimpered, he chuckled slightly pacing up into you. your head falling back against his shoulder, your back arched holding onto the sink feeling him everywhere taking up every inch of your walls. “hmm..isn’t this what you wanted..” he said, you were attempting to stay quiet, hiccupy and whiny whimpers coming out of you. “c’mon answer me.” he slapped your ass, you nodded your head. “y-yes! y-you did..t..too!” you spoke, mumbling out the last part.

he gripped onto your hip, thrusting quicker into you. you whimpered, head lowering down towards the sink. your hands holding onto the sink as fermíns hand traveled to your back, he kept slamming himself back and forth unclamping your bra. your head rises up as you heard the material fall to the floor, he squeezed your boobs smirking, you moaned uncontrollably attempting to stay quiet within every thrust. “look up brat.” he said lifting your chin up, you whined biting down on your lip trying to stay quiet. “t-this i-is so r-risky..” you murmured whining, he slapped your ass. “quit complaining.” he said, you whimpered at the smack holding still onto the sink. “quieres que me mueva rápido?” (want me to move quicker?) he whispered in your ear, you shook your head whining. “i-it’s gonna c-cause m-more noi!-“ you were cut off as you felt his fingers slip in your mouth, you whined. “shut up..” he whispered, he thrusted deeper causing you to gasp. he shoved his free fingers into your mouth, you sucked around his fingers—your moans coming out muffled and gurgled. you moaned uncontrollably around him.

the tip of his cock already abusing near your g-spot, you kept sucking around his fingers he groaned watching you through the mirror, you blushed heavily.

he pulled out midway as you whined, “w-why’d you s-stop..” you mumbled, he pushed you further into the sink, your ass now fully out, back arched. you frowned, “s-seriously! o-oh fuck!” you moaned loudly once you felt him enter again, thrusting harder into your sensitive spot. you gripped onto his wrist, his finger slightly pushing in deeper into your mouth. you gagged around his finger, your ass smacking against his pelvis as you held onto the sink. “shhhh..” he whispered in your ear, you nodded your head. his fingers going in deeper, you sucked around them, swirling your tongue around coating them in your saliva. he thrusted further into you, your eyes rolling back. he chuckled watching your reflection. “aww..look how cute..” he said, you rolled your eyes crying out a whine. his finger going deeper yet again, you gagged smacking his hand off. “shhhh..calláte.” (be quiet.) he whispered, you nodded your head quickly as he began thrusting into your g-spot. you moaned louder, gripping onto the sink. “f-fer!” you moaned out, he slapped your ass. “que te cálles.” (i said be quiet.) you cried out, nodding your head again. your stomach fluttering with butterflies.

you struggled yet again to stay quiet, a string of saliva attached to your lips, he pulled his fingers out your mouth. you breathed heavily yet breathlessly, coughing after his index finger was deep into your throat. he reached further down hiding your panties behind you, distracted by the pleasure you kept whimpering in between hoping a single cry or moan would slip out. your ass smacking against his skin, making it sticky from the sweat forming from your bodies. “see..wasn’t too hard right..” he spoke ksksing your neck, you whined. “s-shut up!” you slightly shouted. he slapped your ass harshly, “bratty much..” he spoke, you looked at him. “b-be quie-“ he didn’t hesitate to stuff your baby pink lace thong into your mouth. your eyes widened, “not so talkative now huh.” he said, you whined causing it to muffle, he chuckled. he grabbed your waist, turning you around. you stumbled looking at him, hands placed behind your back on the sink, he thrusted up harder into into you. you arched your back, moaning loudly. your chest arching into his, legs wrapping around his torso. your head fell onto his shoulder as he continued thrusting up into you.

you felt him thrust into your g-spot, you cried out yet again. legs shaking as you attempted to hold onto him even tightly. you pulled your panties out your mouth throwing it on the floor, you cupped his cheek, kissing him deeply. he kissed back, your moans muffling as his lips synced with yours. your eyes all teary, feeing the pressure on your stomach. “i-i feel close..” you whispered, he continued thrusting into you. “just a few more..” he groaned in your ear, gripping your waist before turning you around yet again. you blushed heavily, he began thrusting quicker into you. his hand traveling down to your clit, his fingers surprising you as they began rubbing against your hardened pearl. you arched your back crying out a moan, “d-don’t s..stop..” you moaned out, he groaned feeling you tighten around him.

his cock slowly began to twitch inside of you, he whimpered feeling you clench everywhere. his thrusts getting sloppier and slightly slower, “y-you’re tightening like crazy..” he whispered, you blushed heavily lowering your head down, he lifted your head up. “watch yourself..” he groaned out, you gasped feeling your orgasm closer and closer. “c-close..!” his fingers pacing up quickly, “l-let go.” he groaned out, you gripped onto the counter shaking uncontrollably. your stomach began tightening and burning as your moans went into breathless screams. it didn’t take you long to gush around him, you whimpered coming down from your high as he moaned in your ear, his seed shooting up inside of you. you sighed shakily resting your head on his shoulder, “amor..are you okay..” he said, you nodded your head. “you might want to get your little friend out of me tho..” you said, he smiled. “oops sorry..” he said, he moved away from you, you grunted at the emptiness. you leans against the sink, holding onto the sides. you watched him put his boxers on then later on his shirt.

your eyes widened at the shaking from your legs, “woah..” you said, he looked up at you putting his pants back on. “hm?” he spoke, sliding your panties into his pocket. “n-nothing..” you said, he grabbed your skirt. “here, let’s hurry up, gavi already texted me 30 minutes ago..” he spoke, you giggled sliding your legs into the material. “turn around..” he said, you nodded your head as his hand slid your hair to the side putting your bra on. “do you have your shirt?” he said, you nodded your head handing it to him, “arms up.” he said, you rolled your eyes raising your arms up as he put your shirt back on you, you smiled. “i’m going go need help walking tho..” you spoke, he chuckled nodding his head. “sit on the sink just one last time.” he said, you sighed sitting on the counter. you winced at the soreness, he grabbed paper towels cleaning off the liquid dripping out of your thighs. he chuckled, you smacked his shoulder. “seriously!” you whined, he kissed your cheek. “it’s okay, you’ll be fine. you’re cleaned up amor.” he pecked your forehead.

“okay you can get off now.” he said as he went to throw away the paper towel, you hopped off the sink holding onto the sink afterwards, you winced again, “do they hurt?” he said, getting your stuff. you nodded, “..and they ache too..” you spoke, he walked over to you kissing your head. “I’ll make it up later, let’s go now.” he spoke, he handed you your bag, “hold onto my arm instead, your limping is obvious..” he spoke, you giggled getting your tote bag as you locked your arm around his walking out the bathroom. you widened your eyes before realizing as you tried your best not to limp while realizing.

“um fermín..” you whispered. “si?” he spoke looking at you, “you never put my panties on..” you looked down whispering.

“don’t worry..that’s for me to keep.”

#𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐬ꪆৎ𓏲 ๋࣭#fermin lopez fanfic #fermin lopez smut #fermin lopez fluff #fermin lopez imagine #fermin lopez x reader #football imagine #football x reader #football smut

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cyberkitty1 · 11 months

Note

Using my prettiest smile and kindest words to ask for the silliest and goofiest Miles Morales rizz to exist. The most awkward eye contact, embarrassing pickup lines, "The shoulder touch."

Complete whenever you are inspired! Love your work!<3

Thank you! I hope this is what you wanted!!

He walked into the wrong bathroom

He had spilt a drink on his shirt and was rushing ti the bathroom to try and get it off not paying attention to what bathroom he was going in he just so happened to walk into the women’s restroom.

You were standing at the bathroom sink fixing your lip gloss when he bursts in. Still having the applicator on your lips mouth in an ‘O’ shape you turn at your neck to look at him.

He’s keeping the shirt away from his skin when he looks up and sees you looking at him in shock. You both stand for a couple seconds till you say “can I help you?” He finally realizes where he is he starts rambling in Spanish “ ¡oh Dios mío! Im in the wrong bathroom i’m so sorry! Forget I was here!” He says falling out of the door.

You just look at where he was astonished.

_______________________

He gives you his number

You’re in your science class taking notes and staring into space. Looking to your left you see a pair of eyes looking straight back at you, amost immediately they look away.

Class is ending, you’re packing your stuff up when you see a shadow over your desk “ umm hi” you hear the voice say so you look up its the kid who was staring at you earlier! His name was Miles? Yea! Miles. “ hey, did you need something?” you say picking up a textbook and putting your backpack on.

“ Umm yea I just-“ He stops himself and looks at the floor. You look at him sideways what is he doing? Before you could say anything he puts his hand on your shoulder, you flinch a little he makes this face at you.

“ I was wonderin’ if you wanna go out sometime?” You looked at him for a second just blinking “ Umm yea sure” and with that his hand moves off your shoulder putting his hands in his front pocket. Taking his right hand out he gives you a slip of paper; most likely his number.

“ Ok ill uh see you around” “ mhm yea” you guys just stand looking around for a second you speak up “ well um im gonna go-“ “ YEA MHM” “ goodnight” “ yea good night”.

—————————————

im so funny guys 🤪

Im out of writing juice but I hope you liked it!!

last miles morales work…for now!

#miles morales x reader #miles morales fluff #miles morales #this made me giggle #fluff #funny #giggles #earth 1610 #earth 1610 miles morales #atsv #spider verse #into the spider verse #across the spiderverse #spiderverse

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piratefalls · 6 months

Text

“You are", he says, "the absolute worst idea I've ever had.” - me @ ao3 after watching the movie and thinking "there's probably fic for this."

i like lists. i've lost sleep reading fic like it's gonna disappear the second i look away. i'm making my problem yours. i'm sure a lot of these won't be new to people since they pre-date the movie and it's far from comprehensive but. i'm late to this party. i also can't make gifs, so enjoy the basic canva header.

(baby) don't make me spell it out by extasiswings

One night near the end of first semester 1L finals, just a few weeks before the two-year anniversary of their first kiss, Alex finds himself looking up from his desk with its messy piles of color-coded notes and tabbed textbooks to see Henry asleep on the couch, clearly having dozed off waiting for him to come to bed, and unbidden he thinks, God, I’m going to marry this man. It startles him, the spike of adrenaline that floods through him waking him up and bringing the parts of his brain turning over concepts like proximate cause and strict liability to a standstill as he stares at Henry. I want to marry this man.

God Save the Blessed American President Mom by zipadeea

["June stopped by at lunch; she showed me a delightful channel called Hallmark, which repeats the same story every hour after they swap one round of white, straight, small-town conventionally beautiful actors for another. It was entertaining.” “June and I used to play a drinking game with those. Take a shot every time someone goes ice skating, sledding, or leaves the big city for their tiny hometown.” “Good lord, you must’ve been sloshed in the first ten minutes.”] -- On December 4, 2021, an attempt is made on President Ellen Claremont's life. Alex gets shot instead.

Familiar Gravity by cmere

“Yeah,” Alex breathes, and he pulls back to look Henry in the eyes. “I’ve been fantasizing about you fucking me in this chair for, like, weeks. Every time you sit down here with your stupid book.” Henry likes it when Alex speaks Spanish and Alex has a request.

Am I the Asshole? by everwitch

AITA for spending Valentine’s Day with my roommate instead of my boyfriend? It’s well past midnight on a Saturday and hardly the first time Alex has scrolled aimlessly on his phone instead of trying to sleep, but it’s definitely the first goddamn time Alex has discovered his roommate has made a lengthy post about last night’s curry debacle to r/AmItheAsshole — a post that’s apparently gone fucking viral. -- In which Alex and Henry are college roommates, and a few thousand strangers think they should fuck.

Everybody needs good neighbours by railmedaddy

To nora(9.37pm): So a funny thing happened My hot neighbour brought me the mcflurry i ordered and we fucked From nora (9.38pm): WHAT DETAILS NOW Which neighbour? Wait, you only have one hot neighbour. Alex, did you fuck a guy?!?!?! ALEX Or Alex meets a hot new neighbour. Shenanigans ensue.

A Picture on Your Corkboard by bleedingballroomfloor

It happens on a random morning in May when Alex, age fourteen, pads into the kitchen to greet his mother and steal a waffle from June's plate and sees a man sitting at their breakfast counter, reading a newspaper, a cup of coffee raised to his lips. Like he belongs. Like it's the most natural thing in the world. June doesn't seem to give the man a second thought. She merely flicks Alex on the forehead and takes back the waffle. Ellen isn't worrying, either. In fact, she's talking to him. Asking what his schedule is like. Making plans for dinner. Alex has never seen this man before in his life.

this is the worthwhile fight by dearhappy

It's not that Henry's scared of their future, he's never been more sure of anything in his life. The thing is they're still trying to figure out how that future is going to look. And he worries about how it'll affect Alex's career in politics.

Déjame Ver Cómo Es Que Floreces by 14carrotgold

Oscar gets in close and bluntly asks, “Earlier. In the bathroom. Did you do it?” Alex scoffs, “No. Don't be a perv. Why would you wanna know that anyway?” Oscar rolls his eyes. “Mind out of the gutter, chamaco. Did you propose?” Ah. - Henry is introduced to the extended Diaz side of the family at their matriarch's birthday. Shenanigans (and romance and feelings) ensue.

Please Don't Let Me Be So Understood by chamel

“I’m glad you both see it that way,” Dr. Chen says. Then she closes her notebook and folds her hands on top of it. “I think I’m starting to get a sense of where the issues lie. The good news is that you’re both here, and you’re both willing to work on this relationship. That’s promising. Not all of the couples I see are even at that point.” “Sorry, what?” Henry says, voicing Alex’s stuttering thoughts as well. (After one too many fights at work, Henry and Alex are assigned mandatory reconciliation therapy by their boss. Except the therapist thinks they're there for couples therapy... and surely, a bet on who will break first makes more sense than actually correcting her, right?)

Such a Burden, This Flame on My Chest by allmylovesatonce

Alex Claremont-Diaz is relocating back to Austin to join his dad's firehouse. His days as a firefighter in Washington D.C. ended badly, but no one knows that, or knows why. And he plans to keep that close to his chest. He has to shove it back down if he wants to seem like a normal person, if he wants to do the job, if he wants to get along with his new crew, and most of all, if he wants to get to know the hot British firefighter on the squad. No one can know what really happened.

thinking (about last night) by rhosyn_du

“I hope you know that I am literally never going to stop reminding you that you said that. I’m going to, like, take out an ad in the student paper. Maybe hire a skywriter or something. I am definitely telling Pez." "I hate you," Henry tells him. "Lies," Alex says, still laughing. "You know you love me." Henry lets out a heavy sigh. "Well," he says softly, "that's rather the problem, isn't it?" “What, you think we’d be better off if we still hated each other?” “I think," Henry says slowly, "I’d be better off if I could figure out how to stop being so stupidly in love with you.” It takes a few seconds for the words to really register, as distracted as Alex is by the heat of Henry’s breath and wondering how much it would cost to actually hire a skywriter. Once they do, it takes a full minute before Alex can move. Can breathe. Can think. Finally, he forces out a whispered, “What?” When that gets no response, he tries again. This time, his voice actually cooperates. “Wait, what?” The only response he gets is a soft snore and Alex realizes that Henry, the utter fucking asshole, has passed out on his shoulder.

you're the reason i let myself fall by perfect-porcelain (tedddylupin)

Alex doesn't quite know what to expect when he walks into a room with a glowing screen separating him from the person in the other pod. The entire experience makes him skeptical. How can you fall in love with someone you've never met? Or: Love is Blind AU

Sharper Head, Wilder Heart by Dawg1515

"This could work out,” Henry offers. “It could,” Alex replies. “That’s good, then. Someone’s going to have to walk me through the brilliance of Empire Strikes Back, after all.” “Sweetheart, if we’re legitimately dating now, I’m forcing you to watch every movie that has Harrison Ford in it.” “Duly noted.” Or: When the Queen decides it’s time for Henry to settle down with a woman, she arranges a courtship between him and Alex Claremont-Diaz, closeted political powerhouse. Alex secretly tells Henry he’s trans, and Henry tells Alex that he’s gay. To say they become an amazing couple would be an understatement—but nothing is ever that easy for a prince and a president’s son.

every version of you (i love) by coffeecatsme

“So,” the voice narrates as the man squishes the dog’s cheeks and laughs at himself. “There’s this guy that lives next to me with the cutest beagle in the world and this little guy climbs to the fence every day to drop his toys off at, like, 5:30 on the dot, I’m not kidding.” The camera shows the man boop the dog’s nose and press a little kiss to his forehead. There’s a ball in his hands that he hands to the dog, but it slips from his mouth all over again, making the man reach down to grab it. He glares at the dog, but even then he’s still smiling. “And this guy always walks by and picks up the stuff and it’s the cutest fucking thing ever you have no idea.” The camera zooms in farther into the man’s smile, genuine and wild, as he pushes his wild curls away from his face. His eyes flicker up when another figure walks into the frame, his blonde hair falling over his forehead in waves. The man’s smile, impossibly, widens. “Oh. I’m also pretty sure he has a crush on my neighbor.” Or, 5 times David greets Alex with something that belongs to Henry, and 1 time he greets Alex with something that belongs to both of them.

The Duke Who Loved Me by annesbonny, Inareskai, schmulte

This Author knows as well as anyone how much you, gentle readers, enjoy a scandal and a love story. And what could bring more delight that two young gentlemen who bring both of those wherever they go? Join the Duke of Mountchristen and the, untitled, Mr Claremont-Diaz as they attempt to find a Love Match amongst the gossip of the ton.

The Edge of Glory by politics_and_prose

Subject: CD-10 To: Alex Claremont-Diaz ([email protected]) From: Natasha Wallace ([email protected]) Alex - You know how you jokingly told me to let you know when Mayfield was vulnerable and/or not seeking re-election? Tash

lying in the low light by smc_27

The thing about having a one night stand with the guy your sister is close friends with and gatekept from you is that it becomes really fucking important that she never knows. Or, Alex and Henry have a one year stand. Or, Alex and Henry are in a relationship, only they’re the only ones who don’t know it.

what we might do (if we stop keeping a secret) by indomitablelove

'This isn't how I wanted to tell people. I thought we'd get the chance to do it right.' - Red, White and Royal Blue, Casey McQuiston, p.327 --- or, in another world, Alex and Henry get to do it right.

Who Could Love You The Same as I by MariaDmitrievnaLikesSundays

Inside was exactly what Alex had found himself dreaming about ever since that night at Kensington. The kind of dreams that he forced himself to forget once he woke up, but dreams all the same. A gold band, simple and smooth, with a single square diamond embedded on top. It was small, modest, exactly to Alex’s taste. ”Holy shit,” he said again. “Holy shit.” That was a ring. That was, unmistakably, an engagement ring. Hidden in his boyfriend’s coat. And he had just found it.

—— Or, Alex finds the engagement ring that Henry had hidden, and does exactly what you’d expect him to.

As the World Falls Down by 3bowtruckles

So while we all knew that the 2020 written in the book would be glorious fiction, we didn’t realize that reality would throw us something to take 2020 even further away from the book’s events. This story is where I attempt to merge our 2020 reality and the fiction of RWRB, using research (a LOT of research) to try to figure out what the trajectory of reality might have been. The story starts picking up the timeline after their late-February trip to Paris. After that, it's strictly AU, but I try to keep a lot of the intents of the events in the book (for instance, Alex's trip to confront Henry in Britain after the lake) while still making them fit the narrative I've created.

We'll Change the World Yet to our Dessire [sic] by cresswells

Alex and Henry are engaged and ready to share their announcement with the world, but after the media circus surrounding their forced outing Queen Mary wants them to do things properly this time. To Alex’s surprise, ‘properly’ apparently means taking a Royal Tour around Europe as an official couple. Ten days, five countries and lots of unnecessary wardrobe changes. What could possibly go wrong?

where clouds look like mountains by weather_stained

Four months after the election, while still learning to navigate the complexities of being in a public relationship, Alex finally has the chance to show Henry around Austin.

We'll Invite Something In by smc_27

Alex is grinning a little too hard. This is absolutely idiotic and pointless and fun. The cover of Hello UK with a photo of him pulled out and a photo of His Royal Highness Prince Henry Fox-Mountchristen whatever the hell the rest of his names are (Alex knows; he being a dick) with the admittedly stupid but flattering headline which reads: His Royal Highness: He’s just like us and crushes on Pres ACD.

Henry's Cold, Empty Tower by DracoWillHearAboutThis

“I want you,” Henry said, slowly but clearly, “to leave.” When Alex storms Kensington Palace, Henry sends him away. Then, their relationship gets leaked, and it's Henry's turn to fight for Alex.

behind the diamond-shaped glass by Celaestis

Five times Alex and Henry used tea and biscuits to communicate, and one time they don't need to.

The Byline by rosetintednerdglasses

Press Secretary Alex Claremont-Diaz serves at the pleasure of the President, and he does it excellently until a new White House correspondent darkens his press room: Henry Fox, The Guardian.

we've been here forever (here's the frozen proof) by r_holland

Objectively, I am aware that you – a stranger – cannot tell me my own sexuality any better than I can, however... Can you, please? Tell me? It’s 4am and I have been thinking about this for hours, and I can’t sleep. Warmest regards, ACD *** It’s four in the morning, and Alex Claremont-Diaz has managed to follow a research spiral straight down into a personal crisis. It isn’t the first time.

words on the tip of your tongue (but please don't say them) by viciouslyqueer

So close. He was so close to saying those words that have lived inside him for so long, and now it's gone, a moment that slipped right between his fingertips before he could grasp it. Now he’s floating in the middle of the lake alone, the ghost of Henry’s touch still lingering on his skin and an unknown, heartbreaking feeling in his chest. — Or: canon-divergence where Henry doesn't leave the lake house.

The Grand Tour by lucky (revolutionbarbie)

When Henry returned from an audience with Queen Mary looking stony faced and grim, Alex had immediately feared the worst. She had requested to see Henry – and Henry alone – the moment their plane had landed at Heathrow on a visit to Pez’s new shelter in London. Alex had suggested that they go to see her together just to spite the old hag, but Henry wanted to keep the peace. Since moving to Brooklyn, they had entered into an uncomfortable détente with Queen Mary and Henry was loathe to be the one to break it. “She wants us to go to Australia. It would be an unofficial Royal Tour, of sorts, with stops in several cities and a short visit to New Zealand. Three and a half weeks in total.” “She wants to send us on an all-expenses paid Australian getaway? Count me in.”

come and get me by rizcriz

The email arrives 8 days after Henry left the lake house. He contemplates deleting it without reading, but it sits in his Alex inbox, where there are over seventy emails favourited, and somehow it feels wrong and weirdly impersonal. As if leaving without a note were any different. He stares at the from line with an aching longing that seeps into his veins. It settles on his heart like a tangible thing; something warranted and cruel that casts shackles around the aorta and locks them tight so that he might never love again. -- or, alex sends an email instead of flying to KP.

Never Did Run Smooth by clottedcreamfudge

"You and me? Best friends. Stellar. Love that for us. But we could absolutely fake being in love. Dating. Whatever. I know literally everything about you—" (No you don't, Henry thinks firmly) "—and you know everything about me. We would absolutely fucking annihilate the other contestants.” "You're too drunk to apply," Henry points out, like he himself isn't about as wasted as it's possible for him to be without curling up and going immediately to sleep. "I doubt you could spell your own name right on the application. Or mine." Alex grins and pulls something up on his phone; it looks like it takes him a few tries. "Wanna fucking bet?" *** Or: Henry's life is a comedy of errors; a patchwork of oopsie-daisies; a quilt stitched together with hauntingly terrible mistakes. And at the centre of it all is his best friend, Alex Claremont-Diaz; director of said comedy, threading together his oopsie-daisies into a flower crown, rolling around in the quilt of his own making, and this analogy is going to shit because Henry's so in love with him he wants to die.

idk I'll do a part two if anyone wants.

#rwrb #firstprince #red white and royal blue #fic rec #fic rec list #i try not to do multiple authors on the same list so #just assume if they're here i read all their stuff plus their bookmarks lmao #for the record I have 100% read the book I just didn't think there'd be fic for it lmao #rwrb rec list

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born-in-hell · 23 days

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I understand u guys questioning what Léa's intention is, or her morality. What i dont understand is everyone focousing on the messenger and not the message.

I could get nerdy into this and say yall are using ad hominem, but i wont.

Firstly, its important to note how the admins were being held onto an NDA that, apparently, isn't even valid. It's, as far as we know, the only type of paper the employees signed and it isnt even valid.

How does an advanced law student not know how to make a valid NDA?

And if i'ts ony an NDA, than theres no actual document binding the workers and the company. Theres also no legal document laying out what's expected from the company and the workers. Including working regimé and salary. They were working without, legally, being binded to the company.

Secondly, they had to pull of the entirety of the Prision Event in five days. Five days. They did not sleep at the night before Prision's ending because Quackity demanded them to change everything. This sentiment ─ of having to work for many hours and everything being made last minute ─ is a sentiment all ex-workers expressed. Another important thing is that they were contracted to do one thing, and on the end had to take on many many other positions.

The isolation, forbidding and actively making it impossible for the workers to talk among themselves, and especially about payment, is textbook workplace abuse practice. What was QS's intention with this? Making it so they couldn't talk about their situation, so they wouldn't learn about how other workers were being treated differently? So they wouldn't quesion?

Something that just shows more of how abusive the QS's higher up team is was the surveillance and privacy breach. They asked Léa's friends to show their private DM's. Their private conversations. They probably had access to very personal and delicate conversations she had with people that are her friends. And survailling the worker's personal accounts is unfathomable to me. Even more considering how they weren't even representing the company, since no one knew they were working for QS.

About the xenophobia, Léa asked if she could translate Quackity's statement on the subject onto french. But Quackity Studios said it wasn't QS's business.

I repeat, the blatant xenophobia on QSMP's fandom, wasnt considered QS's business.

Neither were the 2 participants expelled from the project for grooming and physical and psychological abuse. Apparently neither the admins or the audience deserved a statement about these topics.

Still about xenophobia, calling the admins' complaint on Quackity's statement xenophobic is such a bad faith argument. They're not complaining about Quackity speaking spanish, they're complaining they had to learn about the state of the company they work with, and, consequentially, their jobs (QSMP was the only form of income for some people) through a livestream in a language they did not understand, at insane hours.

If he could've used the QSMP translators for a hot tub stream, he could've used them for the statement that affected people's lives.

If all that sounds less important than Léa's maybe questionable morality than u don't fucking care about workplace abuse. Just say you care more about Quackity's image and the QSMP's reputation than about the absolutely horrid conditions the ppl working to provide ententainment for you (most for free) were working under.

Just say it. It'll be honest at least.

#qadmin situation #discourse

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moodymisty · 8 months

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Surprise

Author's Note: Loosely based off my personal experience struggles learning Spanish and Portuguese. I wanted to do something sfw to work on König's character and get a feel for things with CoD. I'll make some filth soon lol

Any German used is one or two very easily understandable words, and anything more in-depth is just implied via italics. Far easier than making an arse out of myself with Google translate because we all know how that works.

Summary: You've been studying German in secret from König for weeks now, hopefully it pays off.

Relationships: König/Fem!Reader

Warnings: I do not know German so I apologize, Fluff, Reader is implied foreigner but from where is not specified, Fluff without plot

Word Count: 2016

Closing the book in your lap you take your hands away from the pages and rub them over your face, feeling the way your eyes almost burn from overuse. Squeezing them shut helps, but it almost seems like the letters are burned into the back of your eyelids.

No more information can be shoved into my brain; Not tonight.

It's late- the sun has long since set and if you start another section, you might end up hearing the birds outside start chirping by the time you finish and go to bed. With König gone and it being the weekend you can at least sleep in, to cover up your late night of studying.

Getting up off the couch and taking your notes and textbook, they both come with you to the bedroom; Where you hide them underneath the cushion of the window seat. It was a place that he would never look, at least not without good reason.

That was part of the plan after all, for him to be surprised by all this.

As for all the time you've known König his mother tongue has remained a mystery to you, unable to understand whenever he mumbles it under his breath while fixing himself something to eat, or yelling at a door frame he hit with his shoulder or head by accident. Which happens frequently, as unfortunately the apartment isn't exactly built for a man of his size.

You’ve picked up words and small sentences over time; Maus, danke, bitte, ich liebe dich; Scheisse as well, much to König's playfully faked distress. He's always tried to refuse teaching your swears, but you've picked up on them anyways. He thinks they sound too cute to take seriously when you say them. They just make him laugh.

But none of it is enough to hold any length of conversation. König is sweet and always helps whenever you need something translated, but you know sometimes words just don't cross over one to one. Not to mention you don't want to always rely on him. So you decided to learn as much as you could, but keep it a surprise. At least for a bit. There was only so far you could get without speaking it, using it- but for now you could at least try and listen.

''Can you help me?' You stumble out in practice before sighing, slipping into your nightclothes as your bed remains unmade and calling out to you.

Could really use some of that right now.

You keep mumbling to yourself, the words floating through your head, hoping they'll stick to the image of an object or scene that follows in tandem. It's such a silly, impossible goal, but you want to impress him. You slip into bed and begin relaxing, hoping you'll be able to sleep before light starts bleeding through the curtains.

The ring of your phone however distracts you from any further thoughts, grabbing it off the bedside table where it had been charging. Only one person will call this late, and since you’re already in your nightclothes, you answer without even checking the caller id. It would just say 'Unknown' anyways, if it was him. You answer and speak up.

"Good evening. Or morning? Afternoon?"

König chuckles and even if it's hundreds or even thousands of miles away, it still makes you smile. When he's gone you usually don't hear much from him at all, so it's always a wonderful treat when he does manage to find a moment.

"Evening. The sun is just about to set." You're sure he can hear you rustling of the blankets as you pull them over your body, laying down with your phone on speaker right in front of the pillow.

"Keeping busy, Liebe?"

"As busy as I can, it's really late. Was just about to sleep." König hums, and you can hear the scratch of him rubbing his head.

"Ahh, am I keeping you up? I don't want you tired because of me." Just as you go to answer him back someone must enter the room, asking him something. You can hear the question and König's extremely curt and irritated response to it, and it's a struggle to not laugh when you realize you understood enough of it to put the pieces together.

So all this studying wasn't for nothing!

It's nice to finally see that you've been making at least some sort of stride. Once he finishes grumbling a reply at whoever had interrupted him- ignoring how cute you find it that he's so feverishly defending what tiny bit of time he has to talk to you- You answer back.

"Don't worry, I want to stay up; I miss you. I miss hearing your voice before I go to bed." You hear König let out a shy cough, rustling around. Sometimes he still gets a little bashful when you're particularly overt with how you feel about him.

"Then I will stay with you as long as I can." You know that's asking a lot of him; To even get a few moments time while he's deployed in the middle of god knows where is asking for a miracle. A damn good miracle at that.

"I miss you too, liebling."

His voice sounds so quiet when he speaks; You don't know if it's because of there being someone else in the room with him, or that he's just still not used to saying things like that.

The bed is warm and the blankets are soft, but it's still nowhere near as pleasant when König is here beside you. Neither of you have any idea how long he's going to be gone this time, but you always prepare as if it's going to be a long while. Hopefully however, it wont. You're not going to last very long without having him here with you. Just the feeling of being stuck in his arms because he's dead asleep and his grip is so strong- you miss it. You miss him kissing you on the cheek to wake you up in the mornings, and the feeling of his hand on the dip of your waist. His voice always sounds so gruff and sore in the mornings, whispering in English or German or a mix of both as he hides his face in your neck.

The sudden increase in background noise from the other side of the call jolts you out of any sort of fantasizing you were in, thankfully before it went down a path perhaps a bit more appropriate for such a late hour. König speaks up before you have a chance to ask if he needs to leave.

"I have to go; I promise I will try and find another moment to talk to again, ok?" You can hear the sudden rustling around in the background; Some of it from him, some clearly from elsewhere in the room.

He whispers again; Unsure under his breath 'I love you', the words still a bit shy and experimental on his lips. You return it quickly before the line goes dead. You have to reach a hand from under the blanket to lock your phone, staring at the lock screen for a moment.

Now the room feels almost, eerily quiet.

You turn over to set your phone down on the nightstand and turn off the last of the lights, heading to closing your eyes and trying to get some sleep.

When König returns, it's usually not without a fair share of eventfulness.

Normally he spends a day or two somewhere else first before coming back to you, which you understand; He doesn't want to bring 'that side of him' back home. Doing what he does isn’t a 9-5, and it’s not something that’s easy to leave at the front step.

After having a bit to decompress he's finally returned, having just closed the front door. He finished unlacing his combat boots and putting them beside your own shoes, as you shuffled off to get him something to drink after already tackling him. You had nearly jumped on him the moment you hear his key hit the lock, feeling him mumble a surprised but happy greeting against your lips.

Leaning over he goes to pick his pack back up off the ground to move it, but it either gets hooked on something, or the fabric finally gives. Either way the contents then spill out all over the floor, from clothing to whatever else he has stuffed inside.

"Damn it! You fucking piece of-"

The stream of swears he lets out makes you nearly winge, between about how he's going to damn the thing to Hell or set it ablaze. Either or. You try not to smile and quickly go to help him clean up the mess of his belongings that's now scattered all over the floor. You shoo his hands back a bit.

"Here, let me help, instead of you yelling about trying to set it all on fire."

König quickly stops what he was doing, and watches as you come closer. He looks confused for a moment, brow furrowed as if trying to see if you’re just being silly, or got lucky guessing what he was saying.

“...Did you understand me?” He experimentally says; As If in disbelief. You can’t help but smile and respond back.

“Are you surprised?” You cover your mouth and laugh, while cringing.

"Oh god my accent must be terrible, I haven't spoken it to anything other than the-" König bursts up from his awkward squat on the ground and wraps his arms under the crease of your bottom, lifting you off the ground. "-Wall!" Your arms wrap around his neck trying to keep yourself upright while he eagerly kisses your cheek. Over and over again, until it’s nearly red.

"Meine Liebe you sound perfect, how long have you been keeping this from me?" In any other context he probably would've been upset you were keeping secrets from him, especially big ones, but he seems too happy with the outcome to even care.

"A couple months. Long enough that I was scared you might catch me." The idea of him 'catching' you seems to make him laugh, but he still refuses to put you down.

"You made my terrible day so much better, I hope you know." He gives you another kiss this time on the lips, made easier from you being lifted to his height. Your arms snake loosely around shoulders as you giggle against his mouth, fingers tangling in his messy, soft hair. He's long since abandoned his mess on the ground at his feet, finally putting you down only to awkwardly bend over with you and kiss you again. His lips feel soft against yours and his hands cup your jaw so gently, before his lips leave yours with a soft pop.

"I hope you know you don't have to do this for me, liebling."

His eyes are tired from spending so long awake, hair messy and unkempt. You know the moment the excitement is all over he's just going to want to take a nap.

"I know, but I wanted to." You awkwardly try to hug him around the shoulders. "You're dedicated to helping me now, though." König lets out a quiet laugh.

"Of course, but can we take a nap first?" He always says we, as even though you're probably not tired in the slightest, he quietly hopes you'll join him for his own piece of mind. You help him sleep better, he confessed one night.

"Go lay down; I'll pick this all up." Listening to you he leans up to his full height and sluggishly walks off, retreating to your bedroom as you pick up his belongings. You stuff them all in the bag for him to go through himself later, before you follow and find him already face down on the mattress. He barely even bothered to change; Only his trousers are swapped to something more comfortable.

The moment you climb onto the bed with him he's trying to drag you into his arms, wrapping them tight around you and tugging you close to his body like some sort of stuffed animal. He feels so warm, your hands softly laying against his back.

You hear him mumble sleepily; Something about you being his little 'stuffed bear', before he's out like a light.

#is it obvious my love language is acts of service? lmao #König x reader #Konig x reader #CoD x reader #Call of Duty x reader #call of duty konig x reader #call of duty König/reader #mywriting #reader insert #reader

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ros3ybabe · 25 days

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Daily Check-in: April 5, 2024 🎀

Friday was a decently good day! I managed to get some stuff done despite extremely fatigue (thank you womanhood), a 6.5 hour class, and crying my eyes out on zoom with my boyfriend (again, thank you womanhood). I hate having a functional female body, but I love being a woman? ughh, the confliction

🩷 What I Accomplished:

completed Chapter 9 of Spanish on Busuu

Created an excel spreadsheet to track scholarship applications that I am going to begin working on soon

watched a short YouTube interview in Spanish for some passive/active-ish learning

took a peak at the pdf Spanish textbook I'm going to begin using

read the first chapter of Essentialism (not sure if I'm going to keep reading that for now)

caught up on hand written psyc notes from the last two lectures

created a list of things for my excel spreadsheet for hosting rent options near my campus (I am moving out of my current place soon)

made my brain dump list for the week

planned out my upcoming week loosely

contacted a financial peer mentor from my university for help learning about budgeting and saving better

🩷 Good Things That Happened:

my position in my restaurant class barely changed, so I'm happy

met most of my prioritized goals

decorated one of my tracking journals with cute stickers

got confirmation that my friend is taking me to work on Saturday

had a really good day overall

got to zoom call my boyfriend twice

talked to my dad on the phone twice

my grade in one of my classes went up from a 79 to an 83

🩷 What Could've Been Better:

my friend and I accidently swapped chem lab notebooks on Thursday so I wasn't able to do my report with the extension

got told I was talking to loud during my restaurant class :(

found that I'm working with a girl I'm not too fond of (due to her controlling and "authoritative" tendencies) for my restaurant class

cried on zoom with my boyfriend because this time of year is hard for me

lots of back pain and low stomach cramping

drank a soda after having a coffee and had waayyy too much energy

didn't drink enough water or eat enough protein/vitamin-richs foods

🩷 Stuff To Do Tomorrow:

work shift 8am to 3pm

complete small Spanish study tasks

read a chapter of a book

update my brain dump list

create excel spreadsheet for renting options near the campus

look into savings template for my goals

find out how many hours I've worked to guesstimate my pay for this upcoming paycheck

complete assignment for chemistry

Saturday is going to be a good day! I am going to make sure I have a good day on Saturday because even if bad things happen, it doesn't mean my day itself was inherently bad. Gotta stay optimistic

til next time lovelies 🩷

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1lenii · 10 months

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Ma.. (TWIN AU)

Miles Morales/Milo G Morales x F!Reader

Which Miles? It’s up to preference it can b read for both! Ya can switch it around if wanted

Twin au, got the name Milo from another talented writer so if you see this hi sweetie<3

Somewhat headcannons/story, miles a self apologetic, (Y/N) doesn’t know what she feels until the end. Read and find out<3

⚠️CHEATING!! Violence(slapping), empty threats, they are aged up(for the drinking in one bit)

Notes: fill my inbox it 🏃🏽‍♀️ and check out my other works! Masterlist<3

****************************************************

* Miles didn’t mean to do it. It’s just.. happened you know?

* Did he regret it? Yes.

* Did he know you wouldn’t forgive him? Yes.

* That’s exactly why he couldn’t let you find out.

* It’s was a class party, someone spiked the drinks, that’s someone was ofc Edna

* Taking advantage of (Y/N) absence and Miles out of mindedness

* HE led her to a room @the party and one thing led to another

* This became a common reoccurrence ever since (Y/N) came back from her family trip

* All while Milo observed and watched from a far

****************************************************

(Y/N) was coming out of calculus to go to Miles double period of Spanish, which was now in the 2nd half.

Literally oblivious to the fact of what her soon to be ex lover had done.

Quietly coming into the classroom she walks over to her desk taking a seek and taking a peek at Miles who heads a gift on his desk with a note, while he was staring out the window.

“For this project, you’ll be doing groups of four, each of you will be studying a different country of Spanish origin, such a Spain, Mexico these are 2 of the many. Do not fail me young scholars. as for your groups it will be the person to your left and their front. You may start planning now.”

The teacher gave some long ass speech (Y/N) couldn’t be bothered to listen to

About to face Miles she went to go poke him “MILES!!!” A terrifying screech came from right in front of them. It’s was Edna…

Edna Stacy.

(cousin of Gwen Stacy cs I love her I don’t want her to b the bad guy, you feel me?)

“Oh hi..” miles mumbles facing away from her to finally face you, “Mami we need to talk”

Milo scoffs rolling his eyes, “now you wanna talk cheater” he mumbles only miles catching wind of what he said

Completely ignoring Edna as she sat on his desk, (Y/N) nodded hesitatingly turning her head back to her paper not saying a word, heart now racing with ‘talk about what’ with a little ‘oh great, her.’

Edna took this as an invitation to leaning closer to Miles, “you enjoyed my present pretty boy? You didn’t even open it”

“Excuse you? You do realize he has a girl right? That’s fucking dirty” (Y/N) glances at her

“Well clearly not if he—-“

“THATS enough, erm- can we finish this later at one of our dorms, class about to let out” Miles says clearing his throat

(Y/N) eyes him weirdly before eventually agreeing with him, sooner or later the bell rang signifying the end of the day.

“Milo won’t you be a dear and tell Miles ima come over later I gotta get the textbook for the project from the library, Oka?” (Y/N) says giving a closed eye smile to the much more seemingly emotionless twin

“Oh..? Matter a fact lemme come with you, ion wanna b with that brain dead idiot” Milo says while giving (Y/N) and side hug and arm to link around (platonic for now)

********************************************

‘He’s been so distant.. what’s up with him.’

*THUMP*

‘Ever since I came back’

*THUMP*

“Did you hear? I Hurd Miles got a lil sum from Edna at last weeks party” said some random kids from behind the shelf

*THUMP*

“Oh yea? But doesn’t he have a gf?”

*THUMP*

“Doesn’t seem it” the guy shrugs

*THUMP*

Milo caught on tryna distract (Y/N), covering her ears, even training her eyes on him, but it wasn’t enough as she ran out of the library with Milo trailing behind

(Y/N) didn’t even remember when she dropped the textbook in the dorm complex, tears running down almost blurring her vision almost tripping up the stairs to twins floor.

“Ma wait” milo says I’m attempts to calm (Y/N) down

Her heart heaving and hurting from the pain of her legs as well the hurt from her lover.

“It isn’t true, we’ll go to miles confirm and it’s not gonna be true. Right? Right?”

Wrong.

Before (Y/N) could even open the door she heard gasps groans and slight moans

She enter the complex along with Milo who started at his twin in dissatisfied, the door was completely unlocked, (Y/N) stares. Eyes wide.. not from shock. No. From hurt and surprised.

“So that’s what they meant” (Y/N) mumbles

“Wait! Mami it isn’t. I mean- it’s is but I didn’t mean for it— it was Js- ma im sorry it was in the momen—“

“I don’t care Miles..” (Y/N) says drying her tear stained cheeks, clicking over to fall in front of him

“I genuinely don’t care Miles, this is the worst downgrade that could possibly happened”

Milo knowing it wasn’t the time tried to stifle a laugh

*SMACK*

The room fell silent as (Y/N) hand was in the air from the previous action

“If it was because you didn’t love me, or because it was a dare, I don’t care. Miles you’ve completely lost my trust and we’re done. After this project I don’t want you near me”

(Y/N) grabs Milo’s hand going up even more stares, as they eventually get to the roof, situated on the edge with the safety rail

“I’m.. my bad. I wanted to tell you but I didn’t wanna seem.. idk” Milo trails off

(Y/N) sighs leaning her head against his shoulder.

“It’s Oka.. you only did what you had to do to protect any feelings I had left.. so thank you”

*THUMP*

Milo’s face darkens into a shade of red which can only be seen by the flashing lights of the cars passing by.

With a content feel of the area and each others presence they are now staring at each other, tension getting thicker by the minute,

Till eventually their nose touch, bending at the contact of their Lips moving together in sync and in harmony.

(Y/N) had found it. The piece of the her aching heart

*THUMP*

****************************************************

Kinda fast paced but I think it’s cute, lmk what ya think<3

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er-cryptid · 1 year

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sardonic-the-writer · 5 months

Text

𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐬

↳ summary: in between their friends voicemails, and a spanish teachers punishment, troy and abed are struggling to tell you something important. or; a reader insert of season one episode sixteen

↳ warnings: period accurate jokes, internalized homophobia, jeff being weird, and alcohol

↳ notes: abed and troy are in a relationship change my mind

↳ song: me and your mama—childish gambino

masterlist | commisions | carrd

It was early morning, just before first period Spanish, when you finally decided to say something.

“Okay, so I can’t be the only one creeped out by that thing, right?��

You looked around with a sense of judgement as six pairs of eyes immediately whipped around to meet your own. Taking a moment to observe the flower in Annie's hand, and the box of chocolates in Shirley's, you stopped biting at the end of your pen momentarily to gesture at said thing; which just so happened to be your school's mascot.

It was Valentine's day at Greendale community college. Something that, in between your day to day classes and usual group shenanigans, you had forgotten about. If the seven couples french kissing hadn’t reminded you of that enough on your way to the library, the pair of heart shaped boxers draped over the statue outside did.

You had sat down at the study group as usual, expecting Britta’s rant about the patriarchal undertones of the holiday and a well timed meta quip from Abed, but instead all you got was a pair of artificially painted eyes staring at you.

The mascot in question turned to you and made what sounded like an offended gasp as it stopped wheeling its little cart full of gifts. Cards covered in pink hearts and lacey trim overflowed from it, all attached with tacky glue, and you got a good look at one of them as it was sent flying near your forehead.

“Jeez! Sorry, man! I didn’t know this job meant that much to you!” You swiftly ducked under the table to avoid the line of fire. Coming up once the sound of squeaky wheels on carpet faded away, you ended up glowering as Troy laughed at you.

“Shut up, Barnes. Abed got more muffins than you.” You glared, referencing the lack of valentines gifts he'd been given. Troy was quick to choke on his laughter after that. He straightened his posture consciously, only stealing a look or two at the goodie basket placed neatly in front of Abed.

“Great dodge.” The amateur filmmaker praised you in his usual quick pace as you picked up the card from the floor. “If you had been in the Matrix, and that card was a bullet, that would have been the second coolest scene in the movie. Next to the other part where Neo also evades bullets.”

“Neo’s? I have a few friends that are those.”

“Ignoring Pierce's questionable life choices and their daily allotted hazing— ” Jeff sighed from his usual spot next to you, “— I have more important things to discuss. And speaking of which!”

Jeff slouched further into his chair as the door to the study room opened once more. You all watched as an extremely hungover Britta stumbled in, a pair of reflective aviators resting on the brim of her nose.

“Sorry I’m late.” She grumbled. Going to sit down she nearly fell out of the chair, and all of you exchanged various looks. If the way Jeff was smirking at Britta said anything, there was some new weird sexually charged adventure to be had between the two, and you were not ready to be in another one of those. You had done your time last week, and you weren't eager to repeat it.

"Actually, you're very late, Britta. See you later!" You slammed your Spanish textbook down on the table with an overly cheesy smile to punctuate the end of your sentence. Britta jumped at the loud noise, hissing at you to shut up, but you were already walking out of the room by then. If the shuffling behind you told you anything, it was that the rest of the group had done the same. Sans Britta and Jeff, per usual.

You tilted your body sideways as you navigated through the busy hall full of various highschool dropouts and divorced parents, letting the sound of tennis shoes squeaking against the floors bounce around in your head. It was more annoying than usual today, and it took you a second to realize that it wasn't the shoes making the noise, but rather Troy as he called after you.

“Hey! Hey! Wait up!" He wheezed. "You are very fast when you want to be!” The athlete gasped for breath when you finally slowed down. Coming to a stop as you turned around to face him, you saw another pair of legs enter your line of sight. This time much thinner, and accompanied with a wicker basket full of various baked goodies.

“Troy, I know you like to have someone hold your hand as you walk to class, but normally that's Abed’s job. Please don't allow me to take that pleasure from him.” You said, face completely blank. If you looked hard enough, you thought Abed’s nose flared a bit to insinuate a laugh.

“No, that’s not what I'm here to— hey how did you know that?” Troy took another gulp of air as his brows furrowed.

“I took a guess based on the way both your bodies and hands are angled apart each morning as you walk into Senior Chang’s class. Also, when you eat Cheetos, it rubs off onto the back of Abed's palm.”

“I don't eat Cheetos that much.” Troy frowned. “Do I? For the record I am not gay." Troy made sure to ennunciate that last part as he stared you down. His facial expression reminded you of a nervous first grader doing a bad job in their school play.

“You do, and that's not important right now.” Abed answered back. His head snapped to you with the same amount of intensity that he always got when thinking of a movie reference, and you got the sense he was holding back for the sake of the conversation.

Raising both eyebrows, you motioned for them to go on. The hallway was clearing out a bit more, and you didn't want to be caught late for Changs class a third time in a row. Last time he threatened to beat you with maracas, and you wouldn't put it past him to actually carry through with it this time.

“Listen, we have something important to say.” Troy began. Abed backed him up with a furious nod, or his equivalent of it. Which really just boiled down to a regular paced nod.

"Is this about Valentine's day? You should ask Shirley about that."

"Come on man!" Troy threw his hands in the air, turning away from the both of you and crossing his arms. "How did you possibly come to that conclusion so fast?!"

"We were just talking about us holding hands."

"Thank you Abed." The both of you said at the same time. Albeit Troy with a little more teeth grinding then nessicary.

"Did you become a ninja overnight? Did you take a ninja class?" Troy took a step forward as he pointed his forefinger in your face. You stared at it as it approached, going cross-eyed momentarily.

"Yes. And if you did, I would like the name to that class." Abed pipped up.

"No, I didn't go to a ninja class." You said while pushing Troy's arm down. "Does this mean I'm right?"

The lack of response from Troy and Abed's unbothered expression provided you with your answer.

"Are you two trying to ask for dating advice or something?" You frowned as you started to walk in the direction of Spanish. Both of them followed as you fixed your backpack strap. "Because if so, Troy you could learn a lot from Abed. And Abed, if you're having a problem, I don't know how to make you anymore appealing to the ladies than you already are."

"It's true." He responded, looking off into what he probably thought was the fourth wall. "I am devilishly irresistible."

"Stop that!" Troy waved his hand in front of his friends face, bringing both their attentions back to you. "Listen. We were wondering how to go about asking the same person to the dance tonight."

"Oh. So like a love triangle thing? I never liked that troupe."

"No no." Troy shut his eyes as he shook his head. "More of like, uh—"

"Neither of us exactly know." Abed cut Troy off in a matter of fact manor. "We both see ourselves hanging out with them at the dance, but aren't exactly jealous of the other being there too."

"If you wanted me to I could crack open Websters dictionary to find a word for that."

"No thank you." Abed echoed. You simply shrugged.

"Okay. So what do you want me to do about it?" You questioned while turning a corner to another hallway. The three of you were nearly at Spanish now, but this conversation had pulled you in more than conjugating verbs ever could.

"We don't. Exactly know how to ask this person to go to the dance." Troy sucked in a breath.

"You guys have seen plenty of movies. Do the typical thing. Flowers, chocolate, and not what they do in your sci-fi movies Abed." You grinned at him knowingly as you passed through the doorway to class. "Personally I'd take kickpunching robots over literally anything ever, but I tend to be the exception for most things."

"It's not a date though. It's, like, three really close people hanging out. Not in a gay way though! I like girls! With boobs. Yes." Troy stammered as you all plopped into your rickety seats.

"Nice save Troy." Senior Chang called from the front of class with a snicker. He brought his feet down off his teachers desk to lean forward and cup his hands around his mouth. "Or should I call you gay-lord!"

"I really hate this language requirement." Troy grumbled, sinking into his chair. You snorted as Abed stiffly reached his hand out to pat his shoulder, making robot sounds as he did so.

"Cheer up." You allowed yourself a shit eating grin. "It is Valentine's day after all."

“Well that was a disaster.” You said over the sound of a ringing bell. Students and teachers alike passed you and Annie by as the two of you made your way through the hall, neither of them seeming to care very much if they bumped into you or not. To say that’d you’d almost gotten into a fight or two due to traffic here would be an understatement.

“I don’t know.” Annie frowned. She brushed her hair out of her face and clutched her books to the front of her chest. You made a face subconsciously, the sight reminding you all too much of the stereotypical school girl. “I thought it was very mean of Senior Chang to do that to Troy! And Pierce, I guess.”

“Annie. He called a balding senior citizen and a lonely freshman out on their sad Valentine’s Day gifts to themselves. It’s Chang. Of course it’s mean. But mean things can also be also be disasters.”

The girl next to you seemed to think about your words for a second. Furrowing her brows once or twice, she eventually let out what you could only describe as a harumph.

“Well I think we should do something about it!”

“Pass.” You said without a seconds hesitation. Annie deflated a bit at that and eyed the tips of her shoes. You stole a look down at her, and let out a sigh.

“You know me. I’m such a big fan of sticking my nose in other peoples business when it doesn’t belong— “ Sarcasm. “— but I think you and Shirley would be a better duo for this. She’s ruthless when she sets her mind to it, and you’re crafty in the way that you could have written the script for the movie Seven if you wanted to. Probably.”

“Aww thanks! I think.” Annie beamed. She regained some pep in her step as she skipped ahead of you, only turning back to say one more thing to you. “No wonder Troy and Abed like to talk about you so much. So many obscure movie references between you guys. Cute!”

“Seven was a box office hit, Annie— “ You began with the hint of a frown tugging at your lips, but she was already off. No doubt to find Shirley before lunch so they could cook up their plan in a flurry of giggles. That only left you with one more question.

“They talk about me?”

Jeff huffed as he walked into the near empty classroom. His hands, which he had spent the last three minutes nervously slathering in expensive lotion as a part of his mid-day exfoliation routine, were stuffed deep into his jacket pockets. He wasn’t exactly looking forward to this interaction, but sometimes he’d throw his better judgment out the window. Sometimes.

Raising a single eyebrow, he glanced around at the spare video equipment set up; the bulk of which was sat right in front of his target. The former lawyer ignored as a kid in a yellow button up kicked a trash can across the room, instead making a beeline for Abed. Who was giving directions rather loudly to the angry kid.

“Wow. Do you normally deal with divas like this?” Jeff flashed his signature charming smile while commenting on the temper tantrum. Better to be friendly and break the ice rather than dive right in. Otherwise you’d scare people off. He learned that while working at the firm.

“One Papa Johns commercial, and he thinks he’s Christian Bale.” Abed pursed his lips comically.

“Look, uh— “ Jeff began to steer away from the topic of the questionable kid as he pulls Abed’s attention in. “You were right earlier. During Spanish. Britta is being weird around me, and I don’t know what to do about it.”

“By being right, do you mean my prediction that the accidental booty call she sent you while drunk is going to cause the imminent breakup of our fragile group?”

Jeff blinked.

“Yeah. That.” He spat out.

“Nice. So what can I do for you?” Abed leaned back into his makeshift directors chair while crossing his legs. “Do you need a drunk voicemail of your own to send to her so the score will be evened? Because I have nowhere to be for the next twenty four hours and personal dilema to avoid.”

Jeff inhaled with the intent to bulldoze over the younger mans statement, but ended up falling flat.

“Ignoring that last part, yeah I do, actually. How did you know that?” He squinted. Jeff would never admit it, but sometimes it creeped him out how easily Abed could predict what people would say next.

“Classic sitcom staple.” Abed shrugged without changing his expression one bit. “Goes hand in hand with the booty call. Now— “ He leaned forward with a glint in his eye. One that Jeff didn’t quite like.

“How well can you act?”

You don’t know how you ended up here, and you had been ready to leave the moment you arrived.

A faint punch stain from years ago sat at the hem off of your slacks, reminiscent of a house party from a year ago that had ended in disarray. They were the good slacks too. Paired with what was thankfully an unstained button up polo shirt. This was the closest anyone was going get to fancy from you tonight.

Various pink and red hues cascaded across the dance floor, playing into the Valentine’s Day theme as the schools mascot continued to prowl around on the dance floor. You were sure that the dean would be happy with himself over that if it wasn’t for the fact that couples were making out everywhere. It was pretty fun watching him try to break them all up, actually. You’d made a little game out of it with how long you’d been standing at the punch table.

The toe of your shoe came in contact with a stray balloon from one of the tables centerpieces. With a downward twitch of your lips, you picked the rubbery material up into your hands and started messing with it. Sounds of latex on skin distracted you from all of the screeching and poor singing.

“Not having a lot of fun, huh?” A voice from your left asked.

Glancing near the onion rings that had been laid out as finger food, you saw the familiar form Britta peering at you from under some fake eyelashes. That would have been more of a shock to you if the skimpy red dress she was wearing didn’t overshadow it.

“Hey there.” You avoided her question as you threw the balloon back into the crowd it had come from. “Great disco ball costume. Very sparkly.”

“Ha ha.” She mocked you before crossing your arms. “For the record, I still think Valentine’s Day is a sham. I’m just doing this to see Jeff squirm.”

“Ah. Well then, I’m sure all of the women out there will forgive you for your transgressions.” You teased her with an empty smile.

Britta let out a cross between a laugh and a huff, gaze straying from you to look out at the mass you launched your balloon into. Occasionally someone in unusually high heels would fall, only to be swept back up into the bobbing heads.

“Have you talked to Troy lately?” Britta cut in suddenly. The tone of her voice made you narrow your eyes, and you hummed out a suspicious no.

“That question is both too casual and well delivered on a night like this to have come from you. What’s going on.” You had fully abandoned kicking around stray balloons for talking with her. Or at least, staring at her forehead while she talked. You didn’t know if you could manage eye contact right now.

“He was looking for you earlier at lunch. While sweating. A lot.” Britta scrunched her nose up as if she could still smell the body odor. “Sounded like he wanted to ask you something.”

You looked away from her for a moment, temporarily overcome with a feeling of nausea.

“Oh, yeah. My bad. I was in the study room.” A pause. “Studying.”

“Troy said that he checked there beforehand.” It was Britta’s turn to squint at you. “Why are you the one acting weird now?”

Rubbing at the back of your neck proved as a temporary relief to her question. Inhaling through your mouth, you pulled out your phone and messed with it for a second.

“I got a weird voicemail from Abed today. The main part is him talking to me about the dance scene from Breakfast Club, I think, and some weird phone thing with Jeff and you— " Britta coughed into her hand at that “— but the last few seconds really threw me.”

You opened your mouth to continue the story, but quickly shut it once you saw that Britta wasn’t paying attention anymore. You didn’t even have to follow her line of sight to know she was staring at a dejected looking Jeff— who had been standing by the cusp of the exit for six minutes now. You didn’t even have to nod at her to go before she took off, awkwardly waddling in her stilletos in an attempt to not trip.

It only took a few more minutes of watching the two of them go back and forth for you to give up on anything exciting happening to you. With a halfhearted grumble, you took one last grab at the punch bowl before starting towards the double doors. You hoped the juice had been spiked. If you made all this effort to show up to some lame school thing, might as well get a little tipsy.

“Well this is awkward.”

A harsh cough came from your throat as you choked on your own spit. In an attempt to make yourself feel better, you turned around to glare at whoever had scared you, only to start coughing more.

“Abed?” You wheezed. Letting out another round of coughs, you caught a glimpse of yourself in the reflection of the sunglasses on his face.

“I came as fast as I could when I realized Troy was stuck as Senior Changs whore for the night.” He looked at you calmly as you continued to die a little right in front of him.

Finally taking one more gulp of punch from the table, you calmed down enough to string together a sentence.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Let me explain for any in the audience that might have missed it while in the bathroom.” Abed held up a finger. All you could do was deadpan weakly at him.

“Both Troy and I approached you a little bit ago saying that we had something important to say to you. He worded it wrong. We were supposed to ask you something, not tell you. Instead, Troy allowed Senior Chang’s torture to ruin that question, and later I with Jeff and Britta’s voicemail problems”

“Their what’s? What is going on with voicemails today.”

“Not important.” Abed carried on. “What’s important is that while I was fulfilling the spot of Jeff’s drinking buddy, I realized something.”

“That you shouldn’t be drinking??” You questioned wildly. It was beginning to feel like this night was a special episode in a really bad main cable show. Either that or this place was finally getting to you.

“No. I realized that while Troy was fitting himself and Pierce into extra tight women’s suits, that we would miss the opportunity to ask you what we wanted to. I called Troy to tell him to go look for you, but only after sending a call to you that I do not remember the contents of. I assume you have it?” He blinked owlishly.

With a pair of very wide and very confused eyes, you grabbed your phone for the second time that night and shook it with a loose wrist. The audio from a few hours ago began to play faintly. It’s sound was swallowed by the bass of the dances music, but the both of you could still make the words out. Abed’s voice tumbled out at twice the speed it normally does, his energy no doubt heightened by alcohol.

“— e’re sort of like Marty McFly and Jennifer Parker, but there’s three of us. Have you seen the second movie? I need to show you the second movie. There’s more of Jennifer in that than the first. And Martys mom isn’t trying to get with him. Oh, and you don’t have to have a time traveling car for us to want to go to the dance with you. Although that would be nice. Jeff stop drooling on tha —"

Abed looked at it silently as the message continued to run. It was as if he expected nothing more from its contents. For a second you wondered how he’d react to the twenty minutes before that where all he talks about is Breakfast Club, but you figured it would be the same.

The feeling of nausea from earlier was back, and this time was trying to crawl out of your throat with a ferocity. Swallowing both your nerves and that not so metaphorical metaphor, you inhaled.

“So. Troy’s okay with this?” You asked cautiously, as if this was a dubious prank. Abed nodded almost immediately after you asked. The nausea subsided.

“And you’re okay with this?”

Another nod.

“Alright.” You shuffled. It felt like ten pounds had been lifted off your chest, and you didn't know how to express that. “I’ll go to the dance. With the both of you.”

A brief period of silence stretched between the two of you. The lights continued to flair, and the music continued to shake the floorboards, but none of you moved.

“Abed?”

“Sorry. You made me so happy I peed a little, and didn’t want to say anything.”

The corner of your mouth lifted up once. Twice. It only took one more time for a tirade of laughter to escape you all in one go. Abed’s unmoving expression just watched as you laughed to yourself, waiting patiently until you had stopped. When you paused to catch your breath, Abed placed a hand on your shoulder and looked up at the ceiling thoughtfully.

“Normally this doesn’t happen in shows.” He hummed. “Do you think that this is a way of adding some diversity in the form of a polyamorous couple at a community college?”

“How about no lables?” You suggested. “It feels weird. What if it was just me, you, and Troy for now.”

Abed repeated your words under his breath, mumbling a little. He lifted his head back up to you with his thought on the proposition, which arrived in the form of a steady thumbs up.

“Cool. Cool cool cool.” You grinned at him. Abed’s nose flared at your use of his unspoken catchphrase, and he turned away from you to cup his hands around his mouth.

"They said yes!" He told the figure dancing on the floor; the likes of which responded with a yell of victory before getting back to it. It took you a minute to get past the skintight blue suit and floral scarf to realize who it was.

"Troy?!" You sputtered with an open mouth. He looked at you at the mention of his name with a painful smile before turning back to his dance partner with a dramatic sob.

"What is he wearing? And why is Senior Chang— oh god." Your eyes widened, unable to look away. "I think I'm going to puke."

"It's better if you don't question it." Abed told you, his hand just a few inches shy of touching his eyes as he hid behind it.

"Give me your hand Abed." You said blankly. Without questioning you, he held it out. You were quick to sheild your own eyes from the dancing.

"So." You turned your head to look at him after a moment of gross silence, both of his hands still in the air. "Movie date tonight when Troy is released from captivity?"

"I've been waiting forever for you to ask that."

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