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#but actually this is just how I’ve been sleeping lol
short666bread · 9 months
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one of the worst feelings ever is wanting to write but your hands hurt too much or the words just don’t want to work so you just sit there staring at a half finished doc with tears in your eyes bc you want to write and you need to write but everything is telling you that you can’t
#and that you’re a terrible writer and that no one cares aaaaaaand imposter syndrome kicks in and you just feel like crap#bc all your friends have been wriying recejtky so why can’t you??? cause they’re bETTER THAN YOU#lol idk why my head is so bad today#the feelings of inferiority and emptiness and idk worthlessness are strong and i hate it but i can’t stop it#i just wanna write!!! and like what i write!!!#but i Can’t and i haven’t liked anything i’ve written in Months and ugh i hate not being able to d something i wanna do#oh and now i’m crying??? why the frick am i cRYING litetally why is typing this making me Worse#sorry guys needed to rant#the inadequacy was strong today#something something students keep telling me how much they dislike me or how i’m whiny for asking them to be respectful and like#i Know i shouldn’t compare myself to my friends but gosh it’s hard when they’re all like. so much better than me.#and i don’t have a lot of time to be on tumblr bc of work so i just feel like i’m watching everything from afar and it’s no one’s fault but#my brain’s like no one is Doing anything it’s just my brain being dumb and i can’t stand it and I want to stop feeling empty and like i’m#missing a part of myself and like the words i write don’t matter gOD why can’t i just feel happy with where i am and not care what the kids#who hate me say or realize that no one cares that i’m not on much like i’m still Here and trying to interact it’s not like everyone hates me#for being busy or for liking side characters more than the main characters and just—#sorry#that felt good actually#idk what came over me#imma just. imma shower. then maybe delete my tags#sorry if anyone got this far aT ALL grace is either asleep or trying to sleep so i don’t wanna bother them since they slept poorly last nigh#okay done now for real sorry delete tags later sorry if you saw this and how freaking messed up ky freaking brain is
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jack-gourdon · 1 year
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Jrwi episode 98 spoilers
I’m having totally normal late night thoughts about this episode.
I just imagine as Gillion is laying on this table, trying with all his power to stay awake, in a fully delirious ramble, constantly asking May where Chip and Jay are as she can only just reassure him that they’re coming. Not because he’s concerned for himself, but in his state completely forgot they left to go save his life, and that he’s worried for their well being. Until the very end, putting everyone else’s in front of his own needs. And as the remaining of his strength begins to leave him, where his vision starts to fade, his hearing goes quiet, and his breathing slows, tears pool from the corners of his eyes and they trail down the side of his face as he can do nothing but sink into this abyss, so tired. He doesn’t fear his death, but he mourns that it’s happening, that Chip or Jay aren’t here to see him off. But maybe it’s better for them to not see him in his final moments.
And in this darkness, he can do nothing but sink further and further down, suffocating. Until there’s this golden light that appears from above, and it grows brighter until it engulfs him into it.
His eyes open. And he’s on the ship, Chip was telling Ollie about these cookies filled with raspberry filling, Jay was navigating the ship and besides her sat this shirt round grey creature with a puffy striped tail, it’s peaceful as they sailed along the waves. It feels like he can breath again, the pain on his chest gone, this ever looming dread hanging over him is gone. This was nothing more than a dream, but it would be a calm one.
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bonetrousledbones · 2 years
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anyone wanna powerwash my brain for me real quick pls. like just full blast
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tiredsadpeach · 1 year
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I think we’re at a stalemate after that text which tbh is better than I tweet and then he tweets about being annoyed
#and me and Lucy chatted when she fronted :) I was wrong about her age it’s 13#for those not caught up she is said friend’s alter (one of many) and I think she’s the second youngest? I’m bad about forgetting their ages#I have work tomorrow so honestly I hope things are chill but then again work is now a good distraction#even if I have weird ass nightmares about it#it was so strange y’all like I was being held hostage to work there?? which doesn’t reflect how I feel about that place at all idk#anyway in happy news it’s me and my bf’s 2 months c:#he’s been busy setting up a Pokémon gym circuit hehe I’m learning more about competitive battling so I can be a challenger!!#there’s a gym leader for each type and then the elite four and a champion! he’s the ice gym leader c:#his team is really good hehe and I’m getting better! idk if I can beat his team for a while but I’ve gotten him down to 2 before so >:)#it’s very fun but he’s balancing that on top of college so I just hope he doesn’t get too stressed#he’s been having welding classes hehe I keep forgetting the exact name of his major but it’s a type of engineering I’m pretty sure#my memory is so weird man some things just never stick#anyway just wanted to give a last update of the day for those who are following this#I wonder if I’ll still be him and his bf’s friend in a weeks time lol#but yeah I sleep now thank you to everyone who has been sending their input it really means a lot#because it’s always hard for me to tell if I’m ever actually justified in my feelings ever since some real shitty ex friends#which this year will be six years free of them!!#hope everyone who sees this gets some great rest and has a great day/night
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Being me is so annoying sometimes like I accidentally make a mistake related to my relationship (literally nothing bad at all, it’s an easy logistics related thing to fix) and yet because I care so much about my partner my brain sets off all the alarms because it’s so important to me not to mess this up.
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#i do not want to work tomorrow i want to lay in bed and be sad#i’m really realizing how miserable of a person i am i am always fucking Sad and when i do feel happy i cry when it’s over#and i can’t even resemble a human being without medication and i know that’s fine but i’m still always sad. it doesn’t go away#i feel like nobody deserves to have me weighing them down like i’ve cried in front of people three times this week and i know it’s fine#but i feel so fucking guilty about it and i feel guilty about everything i feel like i’m doing nothing right and i’m not dealing with thing#right and i’m not living right and i feel like it must be so fucking difficult to love me and i don’t know how people do it#i don’t even feel capable of asking for. any sort of love ever#i feel like i don’t deserve like anything. i feel like nobody actually wants to do things for me lol#every single dsy i’m like wow i want to be held and every single dsy i feel bad even asking for a hug from someone#when i need reassurance i’m afraid to ask because what if i’m just being annoying and overbearing and too much Bad#i never feel like too much good. only bad.#i know a lot of these shitty thoughts are just because i’ve been unmedicated (meds will be ready tomorrow lol) but it just like#it sucks to know medication just kinda hides these thoughts better and that deep down i feel like this because i don’t want to#i feel like everyone in my life doesn’t deserve someone who doubts everything all the time#i think my mother deserved a stronger daughter and i think my friends deserve someone that’s not always breaking and i just don’t feel Good#i don’t know why anyone keeps me around#sometimes i feel selfish for sticking around and that sounds so awful and i’m not gonna act on it but i just feel like a waste of a person#the last week has been so good and now i’m just a fucking mess and i feel so fucking guilty about that :)#i feel like no matter what i always just default to miserable#i don’t feel like i’m doing enough at all#i’m struggling in school i don’t work enough i can barely take care of myself#like i wouldn’t even properly take care of myself if taylor wasn’t helping me i feel so guilty about that all the time#i feel so guilty for even thinking any of this right now and i’m trying to remind myself that i’m unmedicated and i’ve had a long day#and my best fucking friend just went back home and i’m allowed to be sad about that but i just. feel like i’m making excuses i guess#it’s not immoral to be sad but maybe when i’m wanting to die all the time i’m the problem. idk#anyway i’m gonna go to sleep and i’m gonna try to convince myself tomorrow will be better#sndnsksjkakejdkalwosjhdkwosjdjsk. i will be fine
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quin-ns · 1 year
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Sleeping Bag (Joel Miller x Reader)
Word count: 1.7K
Summary: you can’t get comfortable in your sleeping bag, so joel invites you into his
Tags: age gap (mostly implied), anxiety, fluff, protective/caring!joel, comfort, cuddling, sharing a sleeping bag (instead of the one bed trope lol), kissing (forehead and lips), it’s just cute short and fun
A/N: simple and quick, inspired by ep 4 when joel and ellie were in sleeping bags in the woods, but no explicit spoilers. I’ve been wanting to write for joel since episode one and finally got an idea. pretty sure more will be coming soon…
Cross-posted to ao3 • tlou masterlist • writing masterlist
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After sleeping in a bed in the QZ’s for years, suddenly trying to get comfortable in a sleeping bag on the ground was proving difficult for you.
What a spoiled thought to have, right? Well, it wasn’t just that. You were out in the open woods. There could be infected anywhere. They could come for you any second. How could you close your eyes and rest peacefully knowing you were no longer behind the barrier walls?
Ellie was already asleep, you could hear her light snores. Your back was facing him, but you assumed Joel was asleep as well given his stillness. You rolled from your side to your back and sighed.
You had to sleep. You should’ve been tired. You and Joel had taken turns driving, although since you didn’t have much driving experience Joel became concerned when you began to struggle with the gear shift and mixed up the pedals (it only happened once but he couldn’t let it go). Joel had grown exhausted and didn’t want to stress you out by making you drive without him as backup/support, so you all stopped for the night. He was thoughtful like that; even if he was a bit grouchy sometimes.
You turned from your back to your other side, eyes landing on Joel. He was facing you, eyes closed, breathing steadily. The older man actually seemed to be at peace. He only looked like that when he was asleep. The moment he woke up, you knew he’d have that slight pout and furrow of his brows that you’d become accustomed to.
If Joel caught you staring, you wondered what he’d say. You could never pinpoint the way he viewed you. Friend? Daughter? Burden? You’d be way more okay with the previous two as long as it wasn’t the third. Although if you were being honest with yourself, you hoped it was none of the above.
Despite his age and his tough nature, you had a thing for Joel. Like, a thing. Feelings, attraction, affection—whatever you wanted to call it. Definitely a crush. Love? Maybe. It was a little bit confusing, but nothing in this life was simple.
Joel had taken you under his wing a while back and looked after you. He was incredibly protective and even if he wasn’t the best with expressing himself, Joel cared for you. He made you feel safe. He was there for you when you had no one else.
You rolled to your other side. Then back. Simply put, tossing and turning. The thought that you were being loud don’t even cross your mind until—
“What are you doing?” Joel’s voice caught your attention.
You let out a sigh, feeling bad that you’d woken the man up. You turned back to face him. “I can’t sleep,” you confessed.
“I can tell,” he murmured. “Do you plan on rolling around all night?”
You frowned to yourself. “I'm sorry.”
Joel exhaled softly and even in the dark, you could see the sympathy in those deep brown eyes of his. You hadn’t realized that subconsciously, you’d moved closer to him.
“It’s okay.” He had a soft spot for you, even though he’d probably deny it.
“I’ll try and be… still, I guess.” You knew you weren’t going to be able to sleep. “Just go back to sleep, I’ll be fine.” That was a lie.
“No,” he decided after a moment. You furrowed your brows. “You need sleep too.”
“I can’t get comfortable,” you replied. You let a few seconds pass before adding, “…and I’m too anxious.”
“I’m not gonna let anything happen to you,” Joel promised like if there was one thing he was sure about, it was that.
It meant a lot, it really did. But you huffed out a humorless laugh and went to a worse case scenario. “You’re all the way over there. If an infected wanted to get me, it could. Before you could stop it.”
Joel was quiet for a few beats. You hadn’t meant to insult him, but it was true. It didn’t matter how safe you felt with him there. They were faster than him. Faster than anyone.
“So then come over here,” Joel offered, voice still thick with sleep. It sounded incredibly enticing.
The image of you crawling into his sleeping bag crossed your mind faster than you could stop it. You had to do a double take. “Like… scoot over there?” you tried to clarify inconspicuously.
“If you’re against sharing with me.”
So, he had meant what you’d hoped for. Your heart skipped a little beat and you swallowed.
“I’m not.”
All Joel did was hum. You unzipped your sleeping bag and left the warmth. Joel was ready and waiting when you moved over to him, enveloping you into the safety of his sleeping bag and heavy arms. You wiggled around a little bit until you got comfortable. For the first time since you’d left the QZ, it didn’t take long.
“Thank you,” you mumbled softly, trying to keep your breathing calm. Being so close to Joel was causing you to become less focused on sleep and more focused on the way his breath sounded so close to your ear.
“Mmhhmm,” he hummed from deep in his throat with closed lips. You thought it was going to be left at that, but then you heard his gruff voice. “I know it’s been hard on you.” You opened your mouth to deny it, but he continued. “Even if you’re too stubborn to admit it beyond makin’ snarky comments.”
You took in a breath. He got you on that one, and you both knew it. “Since when do you know me this well?”
“Since always,” Joel pointed out. “You’re easy to read.”
“For you maybe.”
“Yeah, for me,” he agreed, sounding pleased with himself. Joel was silent for a long moment, listening to the soft rustle of your body as you gazed around your surroundings. The grass, the trees, the darkness… “I’m sorry for being so selfish.”
The sudden apology confused you. “What?”
“You’ve never been outside of the QZ before, and for good reason,” Joel started. “It’s a scary world out here and I shouldn’t have subjected you to it. I shouldn’t have brought you along.”
His voice was full of guilt that seemed to come out of nowhere, but given all he had to say you suspected he’d been carrying it since you left.
“I wanted to come with you,” you assured him. You never second guessed that decision despite everything that had happened so far. “Where is this coming from?”
“You’re scared and it’s my fault.” You could hear the deep frown in his voice.
“You’re the reason I feel safe right now,” you said without a second thought. It was true. You wanted him to know that. There was something you wanted to know too, now, and you couldn’t help but ask. “Do you not want me here?”
“I do,” Joel confessed. “That’s why I’m selfish.” There was a pause but you didn’t dare speak. “I didn’t want to be away from you.”
A wave of realization crashed over you.
You wiggled around, turning until you were facing him. You offered him a soft, delicate smile that you hoped he could see despite the dark.
“It almost sounds like you care about me. A lot,” you couldn’t help but tease.
“You know I care about you,” Joel stated, like it was the most obvious thing. Maybe he’d tried to cover it up in the past, but someone would have to be blind to not see that you meant something to Joel.
“I care about you too,” you admitted with much more ease. He knew, though.
Joel, in an uncharacteristically soft gesture, pressed a kiss to your forehead. You could hardly believe it. But it felt nice. You liked the affection. And coming from someone like Joel who never let their guard down, it was significant enough to leave you speechless.
“It’s gonna be daylight soon,” he muttered. “You should try and get some sleep.”
“Yeah, okay,” you agreed with a slight nod. “Just… one more thing.” It took everything you had to be brave enough to say that, and to do what you were going to do next.
There was basically no space between the two of you, but you managed to bring your hand up to Joel’s face and cup his jaw. You leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his lips.
Joel didn’t hesitate to kiss you back. He took charge, but it wasn’t surprising. He had a dominating presence and was rough around the edges, you didn’t think he’d be delicate with you.
Not that you minded.
His lips moved against yours, almost in a frenzy. Like he was scared you’d slip away from him. It was so needy, so passionate. You wished you would’ve done this much, much sooner
Joel found the willpower to break away from the kiss before you. You would’ve happily lost consciousness in order to kiss him for just a few more moments. But then you’d worry him, and you hated to see Joel worry.
But you didn’t see worry when you looked into his eyes. You saw a hint of wonder. You were both staring into a new beginning as you gazed upon one another. He was panting a little, both of your soft breaths intertwining.
“You need sleep,” he reminded you.
Of course he still couldn’t drop the protector role. He wasn’t wrong about that, either. You smiled to yourself, the feel of his lips still ghosting yours despite the distance. You twisted in the sleeping bag without a word, knowing that you’d never be able to sleep facing Joel. You’d probably be too busy staring at him…
So yeah, you laid with your back to his chest and closed your eyes. His arms held you tight against his firm body. Not only providing warmth, but security as well.
“Goodnight,” Joel mumbled to you, already dozing back off. You could hear the soft smile in his voice despite the tiredness. It seemed easier for him to sleep wherever, although you liked to think you were bringing him some kind of comfort as well. With the way he held you against him it wouldn’t be an unrealistic thought.
“Goodnight, Joel,” you replied softly, finally able to relax your breathing. The feel of Joel’s body pressed against you, his strong arms around you—it felt like a dream. Safe and sound, away from the dangers that lie not far off. And soon enough, you were finally able to close your eyes and fall into a peaceful sleep.
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hyperfixatedbastard · 2 months
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how to get the First Man™ out of bed
Soft!Adam x GN!Reader
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Turns out the 'First Man' himself is actually super clingy. And he is a big baby when it comes to getting up in the mornings. Good luck convincing him to get his ass outta bed!
Word Count: 1.1k
WARNINGS: mentions of sex, implied sexual content, withholding sex, kissing (it's still SFW!)
A/N: Here is the Adam x Reader fluff, finally! I didn't mean for this to have so much sex-adjacent content but I think that's just too integral to Adam's character lmao. It's still SFW though so it's fineee. I didn't mean for the 'withholding sex' part to be manipulative, it's all fun n' games here, so apologies if it comes across as too serious. (It was originally 'one week', not 'one day' - I changed it just in case lol)
Dividers
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Beneath the douchebag exterior of the First Man™, Adam’s really just a big ol’ softie. Just deep, deep, deep down. It took a long time to find that part of him, but as his partner, you’re one of the only people that even knows this side of him exists.
One thing you really hadn’t expected from the man is how clingy he can get—it probably has something to do with the abandonment issues, but you’ve never tried to broach that subject. It’s currently early in the morning, and Adam doesn’t seem to plan on letting go of you anytime soon. You’re cuddled up with him in bed, his mask and robes absent as he sleeps. His wings are wrapped around you like a protective blanket. And now you have to try and convince his stubborn ass to get the fuck up. You’ve already been awake for about fifteen minutes, hoping your boyfriend will wake up on his own, but of course, that’s not going to happen. 
Getting Adam out of bed is always a struggle. Despite the promotion of Heaven as the ‘perfect place’ with ‘no bad days,’ there’s still a schedule to abide by, and angels still need sleep. And Adam really hates those damn schedules, and loves his beauty sleep. There are a multitude of ways to try and get him out of bed, and every morning is a guessing game to see which one will work.
1. Be sweet and try to gently encourage him to get out of bed.
“Adam, babe,” you murmur softly, opting for a gentle approach this time around. You pat his arms where they’re wrapped securely around your waist—you would try to get a look at his face, but he’s spooning you from behind and giving you absolutely zero wiggle room. “You gotta get up, we have shit to do.”
“Mm…fuck off,” Adam grumbles, only tightening his hold on you and nuzzling his face into the nape of your neck. Which was about what you expected.
2. Be a little assertive.
“Adam, c’mon,” you warn in an attempt to convince him to get the fuck up. “I’ve already given you an extra fifteen minutes.”
“Then gimme fifteen more,” he insists, his voice sounding almost whiny. His childishness would be adorable if you didn’t actually have shit to do today. 
3. Be a little more assertive.
You sigh. It’s never easy with this asshole. “Adam.”
The angel in question makes a little ‘mmpf’ sound into your back.
“Get the fuck up.”
He doesn’t even respond this time—he just holds you tighter, his wings copying his arms and trapping you in his embrace.
4. Bribery.
Actually, fuck no. You refuse to bribe him again. He’s already gotten that out of you several times before, getting anything from sex to food to picking what movie you two watch that night (you’ve watched Die Hard three times this week alone)
No, this is a game you are not losing this time.
5. Threats.
“Okay, you’ve got three options,” you offer, your voice less stern than your last attempt but not as soft as your first. “One: you get up.”
Adam makes another noncommittal little grunt of acknowledgment.
“Two: you don’t get up, and Lute breaks into our apartment again to drag your ass out of bed.”
He lets out a sound that sounds kind of like a chuckle, but it’s muffled against the back of your neck, so it’s hard to tell. But he’s clearly not intimidated by the warning.
“Three: you don’t get up and we don’t fuck tonight.”
That gets him. He tenses up for a moment before scoffing in disbelief. “Yeah, right, like you could go a day without this dick.”
A smirk pulls at your lips. You’ve got him now. “Try me.”
Adam’s silent for nearly a full minute. He has a much higher libido than you, and he knows you’d be fine without sex for a day. Him, on the other hand? He’s got a high sex drive and is downright spoiled. 
You’re worried he’s fallen back asleep, but eventually, he sighs. His wings unfurl and his grip around you loosens, though not letting go entirely. “Fineee,” he groans dramatically. “But only because I don’t wanna deprive you of my amazing dick.”
You chuckle and turn to face him, now that you have the ability to actually move. His hair’s all messy, as it usually is, and his golden eyes are just barely cracked open. 
“Oh, how generous of you,” you joke, bringing a hand up to cup his cheek. He instinctively pushes his face into your palm ever so slightly. 
“I know, I’m fucking great,” he agrees, a slight smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. He knows you were being sarcastic, but he’ll turn damn near anything into a compliment that strokes his ego.
You just roll your eyes at his response, albeit fondly. He’s a dumbass, but he’s your dumbass.
“Alright, you big baby, time to get up,” you tease, moving to sit up before his arms tighten around you once more, pulling you back down.
“Hey—” you start, but are immediately cut off by a pair of lips on yours. His lips move slowly and languidly along with yours, and you’re all too happy to reciprocate.
You sigh into the kiss, unable to stop yourself from smiling against Adam’s lips. There’s a big difference between your usual hungry, eager make-outs and the sweet, lazy kisses you get when he’s all soft and sleepy. Both are great, but you really savor these tender, gentle moments with him. In the mornings, he’s too tired to keep up that arrogant ‘too cool for all that mushy, affectionate shit’ persona. And while you love him all the time, sleepy Adam definitely holds a special place in your heart.
He’s smiling when he lets you pull away. The kiss wasn’t a particularly long one, but you could’ve let it go on forever. But you’d be one hell of a hypocrite if you stayed in bed just to kiss your boyfriend after making such a point to get his ass out of bed.
“Now are you ready to get up?” you ask softly, still basking in the warmth of his embrace and the memory of his lips on yours.
“Mm…” Adam hums in consideration. His smile quickly turns to a smirk as he tightens his hold on you yet again and wraps his wings around you. “No.”
“Oh, for the love of—”
⋆⋅☆⋅⋆
Needless to say, you do not stay true to your word about the consequences of Adam not getting out of bed. And Lute does, in fact, break into your apartment half an hour later to be confronted with a sight she sees far too often for her liking. 
Fuck him for being so damn stubborn. Literally.
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Taglist - @3sire-777
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eddiesghxst · 10 months
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no thoughts just loser!eddie losing his shit when he sees you over at his house for the first time, rifling through his things like any normal friend does.. but you stumble upon a box.under his bed. it’s like slow motion when he walks into his room and sees you open the lid and he nearly drops a glass of water, literally biting his fist in pain, trying to stop you but then you’d only get more curious of what he was hiding.
you. he has polaroids of you except they’re the dirty cum covered kinds. he has your underwear with his stains in it. he has your perfume bottles, your rings (he would totally get hard seeing how tiny they are compared to his, and imagining the dainty stones on the rings on your ring finger like an engagement stone)
it’s like a fucking shrine for you and he thinks he’s gonna pass out as your eyes widen.
but you only turn to him and smile, and his knees weaken. literally almost fainting when you kiss him because you have definitely slept with his sweatshirts, came to the idea of eddie, etc. he’s just such a fucking loser but that night he makes you cum so much you see stars and he’ll have a scrapbooks worth of polaroids (just from that night alone lol)
anyways do you think you could write a lil something based loosely off that? 🫶
BESTIE I MIGHTVE DIED YES. YES YES YES.
also this ended up longer than I'd intended but who cares its pervy!loser!eddie
18+ — MINORS DNI
word count: 1k
————
Eddie’s not sure if he believes this is real. There’s no way this is real, right? There’s no way he has his best friend naked on his bed, covered in sweat and cum— his cum, at that.
He almost thinks it’s all another one of his sick, perverted dreams, but then he’s reminded that none of those dreams have felt this real. None of his dreams have felt this vivid to where he can actually feel the tremble in your hands as you wrap a fist around his wet cock, the shift of the bed as you clumsily scramble to your knees, the lewd and unmistakable shlick sound of your hand fisting his spent cock. It’s never been this vivid— that’s how he knows this isn’t a dream.
You’re blissed out and cock-drunk as you shuffle to lean on all fours, lowering your mouth to suckle on Eddie’s leaking tip. Your toes curl at the sound of Eddie groaning above you, a hand resting on the back of your head to shove himself further down your throat. “Take it all the way in, that’s it— fuck,” Your center throbs at his words, a wet gagging noise emitting from the back of your throat when Eddie’s tip meets the tight space. He curses with a groan, head dropping back for a moment before he looks back down at you with a lazy smirk.
“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear you gag on my dick, sweetheart.”
You whine, your hips grinding back against nothing, the cool breeze of his room sending shivers up your spine when it graces the wet heat of your cunt. Around you, scattered on the bed, are the many polaroids you had just discovered earlier. Snapped photos of you in bed, in the shower, getting dressed in your room; all images that would’ve sent anyone else running for the hills. Eddie was so sure you would never speak to him again when you found that box full of all things you, but to his surprise (and sinful delight), you were just as fucked up as Eddie, if not more.
Eddie’s eyes dart all over the bed; polaroids, lace panties and matching bras, dainty jewelry, lipsticks, and perfume bottles. Eddie Munson was a perverted thief, and it somehow landed him balls deep down your throat. 
He reaches down and picks up a particular Polaroid, one of his favorites; a picture of you laid on your stomach in your bed, one leg hiked up to form a comfortable sleeping position. You’d forgone your sleeping shorts this night, and Eddie took it upon himself to jack off and cover your ass in sticky ropes of his cum, snapping a photo as the white substance dripped down between the folds of your ass to stain your pretty panties (Eddie stole those panties that same night).
He takes the picture and holds it up between two fingers. “So many nights of wasted cum… you’ve got a lot to make up for, sweet girl.” His voice is low and teasing, and you whine against him, nuzzling his cock further down your throat until your nose brushes against the curly hairs surrounding his base.
Eddie’s knuckles are tight against your scalp when he pulls you off his cock, shivering at the wet gasp you take, bleary eyes blinking up at him as your spit drips onto his thighs. “Think you’ve been good enough for it?” He wraps a hand around himself and rubs his throbbing tip against your lips, humming in approval when you open your mouth to offer your tongue. He slaps himself against your tongue a few times, chuckling when you whine and squeeze your thighs together. You can feel the sticky feeling of his cum and your arousal sliding against the insides of your hot thighs, and your eyes roll at the sensation. You lean forward and nuzzle against his cock, “Please, Eds— want it so bad. I’ve been so good, I have.” Your words are nearly slurred; the only thing on your mind is the overwhelming urge you have to feel Eddie’s cum in the back of your throat.
You don’t see Eddie reaching for his camera, too focused on licking your way down to his balls. “Fuck— look at me, sweetheart, give me those pretty eyes.”
You slowly blink up at Eddie, wet lashes fluttering and pouty lips grazing his cock as you gaze at the camera. A flash and a snapping sound echo through the room before a white card come out the bottom, a curse falling from Eddie’s lips as he shakes the paper and tosses it to the side for later. He nods down towards you, “Love on it, baby; show me how much you love my cock.” You don’t wait for another second, licking a thick stripe up his cock, rounding your lips around his tip to suck eagerly. Eddie takes another picture, and you whine.
“Shit, I’m gonna come— keep sucking baby, keep taking me in.”
You shuffle forward, nose brushing against his pelvis once again, and Eddie takes it as permission to secure a hand atop your head and begin fucking himself into the back of your throat. Both of your hands are fisted into the sheets below you, watery eyes gazing up at the blissed-out Eddie above you. His hips falter during the last few thrusts; he doesn’t last much longer. 
“I’m gonna come… don’t swallow, okay?” You nod as best as you can, and without further directions, Eddie’s cum floods your mouth until you nearly choke on it. 
He pulls out of your mouth with a moan, instructing you to open your mouth and show him your tongue, which you immediately obey. He reaches for the camera once more, snapping one picture with you on all fours, gazing up at the camera with your tongue out, white sticky cum coating the inside of your mouth. He takes a second picture, this time with his hand cradling your jaw. The third and last picture he takes is with his hand still cradling your jaw, but his thumb is now pressed against your tongue, smearing his sticky mess across your tastebuds.
And when he tosses the newly printed photos into the pile of new Polaroids, he catches a glimpse of one clear picture of your pussy freshly fucked and covered in his cum. Eddie can’t help it when his cock twitches against his thigh once again.
It’s safe to say that Eddie had to get a new box the next day <3
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rosabelbelieve · 1 year
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rant lol
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bunni-v1 · 6 months
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Could I ask for your headcanons on how the staff would take care of/look after the reader? I’m a sucker for the fics where they take a parental role
How The Staff Takes Care of You
TW: None!
Info: Crowley, Crewel, Trein, Vargas and Sam x Reader (Platonic)
🍓This one is short but sweet. I’ve spent a lot of time on the event, but I want to start on other requests outside of it too. This one looked fun and easy so I got it out within about an hour or so. I hope you enjoy!
Tags: @kitsun369 @bloomstruck
Crowley
-Lets get one thing straight, Crowley does not take care of you
-It’s hard to even say that Crowley cares for you. It’s hard to say he cares for anyone other than himself.
-Still… he does do some things correctly.
-He gives you a place to live (which he threatened to take away), food (which he threatened to take away), and funding (which he… threatened to take away).
-He DOES come to ACTUALLY care for you, just… not in the traditional sense, I suppose. 
-He has frequent check ins with you to ensure that you are doing well.
-Occasionally he stops by ramshackle just to chat with you and ensure you have company.
-Believe it or not, he set up a lot of the things you do specifically so that he can ensure you are getting along with other students and have a support system here.
-He lets you keep grim around — even though he has cause countless issues for student and staff alike.
-He’s like your weird uncle. You hardly ever actually see Crowley around, but you know that he is looking out for you in his own way. 
-Thats all that matters, right?
Crewel
-Crewel is also anther oddball when it comes to how he shows that he cares.
-He is… aware that Crowley does not do a very good job at caring for you, and he’s a bit easier on you because of that.
-He’s probably harder on you homework-wise than most other students though.
-He wants to see you excel and succeed in his class.
-It would be the biggest fuck you to Crowley ever, so he works hard to make sure that you prove yourself to everyone.
-He makes sure that you’re sleeping and eating well, and if he sees that you are not, he makes you stay ofter class to talk to him so you both can find a way to solve this issue.
-If it’s money issues keeping you from eating, don’t worry. He’s now making you a lunch — or at least he gives you some money to eat.
-The nicest thing he does for you, however, is he gets you clothes.
-Your uniform is pretty… bad, and he feels bad for you.
-So, he takes matters into his own hands and gets you a nice new one that actually fits you.
-He and Trein have a rivalry over who treats you better and who you like more. (Trein is winning by like one point and it drives Crewel crazy).
-Crewel very much is the one to tell you “Boys are stupid, don’t date — especially not the ones here.” Lol
-Again, more like a very ambitious uncle who just really loves his family but never wants kids of his own.
-Oh, also, his dogs love you. So that’s a plus.
Trein
-He has two girls of his own, and he really does love kids, he’s just… jaded from years of being a teacher for snotty kids like Ace.
-You though? He likes you a lot.
-You’re a troublemaker, sure, but you always try your best in classes and have been making the best of your situation.
-Speaking of, Trein hates the way Crowley is so lackadaisical about your position and treatment.
-You are a living person? How could he just leave you to almost starve or freeze in your rickety old dorm?
-Trein visits your dorm frequently after his school day is done, just to ensure you have food and are able to stay warm/cool in the respective seasons.
-If he finds that you do not have enough food or cannot afford it, he talks to both Sam and Crowley and scolds them into lowering prices for you and raising your passive income.
-He still buys you things with his own money.
-If you fall asleep in class and you look like you need it, he won’t bother you. 
-Tells you that you can always come to him if you’re having trouble with anyone, and he will most definitely deal with them.
-Do you need extra help with homework, he’ll stay late just to ensure you’re understanding the material. 
-Seriously the number one dad at NRC, and he’s really happy to have you around since you remind him so much of his girls.
Vargas
-The resident promoter of a healthy lifestyle and great workout routine at NRC.
-You don’t really spend that much time around Vargas, so you two aren’t close, but he knows about you through the other members of staff.
-He knows how Crowley treats you, and while he isn’t one to play favorites… he can make an exception.
-Especially since he knows you aren’y always eating enough thanks to your limited budget.
-The last thing he needs is a student passing out in his class.
-He still pushes you to work out and participate, but if you’re looking like a ghost when you walk into class he’s going to make you go change and get some rest.
-He’s a gym nut, not a monster.
-He’s good with dieting though, so he’s able to tell Trein and Crewel and Same what would be best for you to eat in your condition.
-So yeah, he’s likely the least involved in your life, but he does help you from behind the scenes.
-It’s better than Crowley, so that’s a win in his books.
Sam
-Other than Trein, Sam probably sees you the most frequently out of everyone.
-You come into his shop at least once a day for something.
-At first he treated you the same as every other student, charing you ridiculously hight prices for typically cheap stuff.
-Then one day you came in looking for something to eat, cause you’d run out of what little Crowley gave you, but you didn’t have enough money.
-He nearly cried at how heartbroken you looked when you realized you couldn’t get anything.
-He gave you the whole meal for free, didn’t even ask for what you had.
-Trein is also on his ass about how high his prices are, so he purposefully has a “discount” every time you’re there to buy something.
-He also gets to know you through your shopping and makes and effort to talk to you to feel out where you are physically and mentally.
-He reports what he notices back to Trein and Crowley, just to make sure someone who has the power to is taking care of you.
-You’ve got a friend in Sam, that’s for sure.
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puppetmaster13u · 3 months
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Prompt 203
Another Hydra prompt! Because I am enjoying the designs I’ve made lol. And perhaps it’s a bit inspired by @radiance1 ‘s different dragon prompts too. 
So they’ve succeeded! They’ve managed to combine their powers- with a bit of shapeshifting helped along by so many ghost allies- and become a giant duck-you dragon! Well, originally they were going to do something else, but they couldn’t agree on an animal, so dragon it was! 
And how mighty they are! They’re giant, absolutely massive- dwarfing the couple of skyscrapers still in Amity. Damages via ghost attacks and general sparring made it where people really didn’t want to rebuild those types of buildings. 
But anyway, dragon! Them! They’re absolutely stunning! And did they mention powerful? Because boy oh boy, are they powerful. The GIW’s guns do practically nothing against their combined might, and barriers shatter before them! 
The uh, issue is that they erm… can’t turn back. Which is fine, they’ve all sort of outlived most of their generation- thank you possessions and ecto-contamination, it’s just a tiny bit of an adjustment. But really it’s not too bad, and someone needs to stop the GIW from trying to poke their heads into Amity. Like it’s been a solid couple of generations, it’s time to stop, thanks. 
Actually they’ve been a bit quiet. Meh, that surely isn’t a problem. Probably. Honestly they’re all going to use the opportunity to sprawl out where the school yard once was, their favorite place to sun their scales. Huh. Usually more people are around now that they think about it- or really, as Paulina points out, sharpening her fangs on one of the rocks. 
How long had they been sleeping, because it couldn’t have been that long. One of them was always awake, they slept in shifts after all! Yet there are things missing now as they patrol the skies, both Wes and Tucker pointing out specific buildings that the others didn’t particularly notice usually that now lay empty. 
Hm. 
Oh. That is a… strong barrier there. A really strong barrier actually. Pfft, they can take it! They’ve shredded every barrier together before- Ow. 
Okay this might be a bit of a problem. Shit. 
You want a general size reference? :P
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windenbro · 8 months
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🌊 LUV2SWIM ☀️
I could not have expected to enjoy the Poolside Splash kit as much as I did. As soon as I got my hands on it I knew I wanted to take it even further. Of course the speedos needed a bulge on them, but I actually loved the whole vibe and theme and decided I wanted to do my own spin on the whole thing. I had originally planned to put this off for a week since I’m going on vacation next week and didn’t think I’d have time, but inspiration hit like a truck and I just couldn’t sleep until I finished this.
Luv2Swim is 9 items from the kit all edited & recolored in a new palette I created just for this very creatively called…SPLASH. I’ve got to have my neutrals so you’ll see some of that as well as a selection of brighter shades and pastels. Something for everybody I hope! Also made a selection of 15 prints I really loved to use here. Some of them you will have seen on some previous items and some are brand new finds.
If you’re curious about what you’ll get, here’s a breakdown.
4 speedos: Personally I was really only a fan of the one speedo shape, however I’m so glad we got as many as we did. If course 2 of them are flagged feminine but I swapped that over for these items. Added a bulge to all of them of course. Also one of them seemed to be completely missing a specular map so I learned how to make one and added that too. You’ll get all the original EA swatches as well as a second package in SPLASH + prints.
2 trunks: I’ll be honest I didn’t do much with these. The shorter trunks got a very minor mesh edit to make em a lil fuller in the front but the longer ones got nothing really lol. That said they both come in the same solids/prints swatches as mentioned before, as well as 14 “extras”, that is a few cute gradients and color blocked styles as well. Also added a specular to the shorter trunks because…trunks should be shiny!! I didn’t add specular to the longer trunks as..frankly the kinda read more as sweatpants to me and sweat pants should absolutely NOT be shiny. (Also the longer shorts are literally just me taking the exact item from EA and making it BGC..that was an accident but..oh well you’re welcome!)
2 tops: Thank tank top is absolutely my favorite in the game now by far! I loved that open shirt too we always need more of those! Just recolored these in 20 solids each and added a bit of shiny to the open shirt cause I feel like it should be kinda silky looking no?
1 sandal: The shoes EA have been making lately have been so good, but these are absolutely my new faves!! That chunky ass sole is just…chefs kiss! This was recolored in SPLASH colors as well as 15 prints across the strap and a handful of color blocked swatches (the same ones the trunks came in)
Again everything is BGC and has all maps but LODs are…well..nothing is particularly high poly so it’ll be fine I promise (I mean it’s mostly speedos so that’s like... no poly lol)
Anyway I hope you guys enjoy!
📂 SFS
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nereidprinc3ss · 2 months
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hii i love love how u write spencer omds🥸
uhh i was wondering if you could write sth based off the song “we’ll never have sex” by leith ross? pls dont feel pressured to write this btw😭😭😭 hope ur having a good day lovely💗💗
hello my love i have no self control so this is extremely long and plotty but i love this song and i hope that this is any good at all crying emoji (i'm on a laptop LOL) enjoy!!
warnings/tags: angst/fluff, fem!reader, negative self-talk from reader, mentions of past sexual coercion/feeling used, mentions of past excessive drinking to combat social anxiety, ive been watching a lot of new girl lately and i think it shows, SO FRIENDS TO LOVERS, happy ending
You weren’t expecting to end up on Spencer Reid’s worn-leather couch at two in the morning, clutching a chipped mug of coffee in your hands as you listen to the sounds of the city from the street below. But there you are, sitting with your legs folded under you, in your favorite dress and first date-night makeup (now bleeding and smudged from all the crying.) And realizing that despite considering him one of your closest friends, you haven’t been to his apartment in a long time. There are, of course, good reasons for that—but you try to push those from your mind. 
“I’m really sorry about this,” you sigh, staring at your warped reflection in the glassy black surface of your coffee. Spencer is coming out of the small kitchen, now bearing his own cup. 
“Please, stop apologizing.” 
You glance up, tentatively studying him from behind the safety of your mug. While he may not have been asleep when you knocked on his door ten minutes ago, lachrymose and barely verbal, he must have been getting ready for bed. He’s clad in patterned pajama pants, mismatched socks, and an FBI crewneck that is just big enough to reveal the collar of the tee-shirt underneath. He’s already taken out his contacts, and you were startled by the reminder that he also has glasses. 
“So...” he begins, bringing you back to the present moment, “we don't have to talk about anything, if you don’t want to, but...” 
You sigh, watching coffee bubbles swirl like stars in a galaxy. 
“It’s fine. Honestly, I’m kind of embarrassed. I didn’t really think, I just... ended up here.” 
“Yeah... where did you come from?” he laughs quietly. “Not that I’m complaining. But I recall you not living super close by.” 
“No, no. I was actually on a date. Kind of.” 
“Ah.” There’s a beat of silence, and ostensibly Spencer is waiting for you to say more, but instead you take a sip from your mug. “At two in the morning?” You nod dully, staring at the labyrinthine pattern of the Persian rug.  
“I’m taking it that it wasn’t a very good date...?” 
A whoosh of air escapes from your puffed cheeks. 
“No it was not. Not by the end, anyway. It actually started really well, which made it even more disappointing when he...” you laugh, but there’s not much humor in it. “Well, when he kicked me out of his car on a street corner because I didn’t want to sleep with him.” 
You don’t look to see Spencer’s reaction—only take another long, baleful sip of coffee and ignore the heavy silence.  
“I’m really sorry. You... you deserve so much better than that.” 
An attempt at a jaded scoff from you falls flat. 
“Yeah, well. Tell that to the last three white house interns I’ve gone on dates with. It’s the same thing every time.” 
“Have you considered going on fewer dates with white house interns...?” The nervous humor is a thin veil over genuine critique. You shrug, biting the inside of your cheek. 
“It’s not just them. Every single guy I’ve liked since I was 15 has been like this. Even my past relationships, I felt like I was almost... tricked into, you know? I mean, these guys, they act all understanding and willing to take it slow or whatever, until you’re in a relationship, and suddenly they’re guilt tripping you so hard and making you feel so obligated to...” you catch yourself just in time, glancing up at Spencer. You’re not sure what to make of his expression. The drawn brow and slightly squinted eyes trained so intently on you could be sympathy, or anger, or pity, or apathy—you look away, not sure you even want to know what he’s thinking. “Sorry. You don’t need to hear all about that. Basically romance is exhausting and since I’ll clearly be single forever I’m considering running away to join a nunnery.” 
When he doesn’t respond for too long, you look back up quizically. 
“I’m not sure you know what romance actually is,” he says as soon as your gaze meets his, like the eye-contact activated some kind of hair-trigger in his vocal box. 
You blink, lowering the coffee cup to your lap. 
Says Spencer Reid? 
“...sorry?” 
He flushes, stammering to clarify himself. 
“I just meant—I—I know I’m not exactly fighting women off with a stick—” he interrupts himself with a self-conscious (adorable) laugh— “but... but I have been in love, at least once.”  
“Maeve,” you say, gently—trying to shove down bitter guilt as you remember how jealous you’d been when Spencer had first told you about her. “I remember.” 
He swallows and nods. 
“We never even met—we just talked. All the time. I had no idea what she looked like. But it didn’t matter at all. Because I knew her, and I loved her. Maybe things would have gone further if I hadn’t been calling her from public phone booths, but that wasn’t the most important thing to either of us. We were still in love.” You try to shut out the sharp ache in your chest. Being jealous of the way he speaks about a dead woman is so wrong.  
“What I’m trying to say is that romance isn’t solely about sex, or even physical appearance. It sounds to me like you’ve been with a lot of men who don’t understand that. And it would be such a shame for you to write romance off in general before you even get to experience it. You are... an extraordinary woman. You’re funny, and intelligent, and kind, and so capable of being loved. One day, someone is going to see beyond your pulchritude and prove that to you. I hope you let them try.” 
More tears blur the pattern on the rug, pooling in the rims of your eyes before spilling down your cheeks in fast, fat drops. Shakily you set the cup down, resting your elbows on your knees and hiding your face in your hands. You sniff once. Twice. Shake your head quickly, attempting to wipe the tears away without further smearing your makeup everywhere. 
“Shit, I’m sorry,” Spencer breathes, leaning forward but obviously unsure how to comfort you. “Please don’t cry, I wasn’t--I was trying to do the opposite of this.” 
“No, I’m sorry! You didn’t have to—you didn’t—I’m sorry. That was way too nice.” 
But you're not crying because he was nice.  
Someone will love you, but not me. That’s all you can hear. 
His voice is a mere whisper when he next speaks. 
“I meant every word.” 
You take a shuddering breath, allowing yourself a moment of reprieve behind the peaceful black of your eyelids. You can’t be looking at his face when you say what you’re about to say. 
“I had a crush on you for the longest time, you know.” 
Ringing silence. But it doesn’t last as long as you’d imagined. It’s not as world ending. 
“Had?” 
The little smile in his voice is like a fist around your heart. 
“Yeah. You know what changed?” 
“What’s that?” 
Absolutely nothing. 
“Every time I got super drunk and started hitting on you, you’d just drive me home. And I did it a lot. Like, for months. But you were such a gentleman. It drove me fucking crazy. So eventually I figured you just didn’t like me and I gave up.” 
Another stretch of silence. A breeze comes in from the open window, fluttering the curtains and cooling the tears on your face. His response is sad when it finally comes. 
“You thought I didn’t like you because I didn’t try to take advantage of you when you were drunk?” 
“Pretty much.” You smile ruefully, fingertips still pressed over your eyes. “God, listen to me. No wonder I get treated like garbage.” 
“Stop. Don’t talk about yourself like that. Did you hear anything I just said?” 
You sniff, looking to the ceiling. 
“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right. It was really sweet.” 
More silence. 
“But you don’t believe it.” 
A bitter laugh poisons the air around you. 
“I don’t know.  I’m kind of tired of waiting for someone to prove it to me. Just for once, I want someone to be interested in me beyond having sex in the back of their fucking... Range Rover, or whatever. Like, maybe all that stuff you said is true, but there’s no evidence to support it, and I know logically you’re probably right but I can’t help wondering if... if I’m the outlier. Maybe there just isn’t someone for me like that. Maybe I’m just gonna be the sex in the back of the Range Rover girl forever.” 
A noise somewhere between a laugh and a sob forces itself from your throat and you bury your face in your hands again, shaking your head. 
“Wow, I am so sorry,” you say a little too loudly, “I did not mean to be this honest tonight. Did you spike my coffee?” 
“You are not the outlier,” Spencer whispers.  
You sniff, lifting your head haltingly to look at him. 
“What?” 
His voice shakes slightly as he speaks. 
“You said you can’t help wondering if you’re the outlier, and maybe there just isn’t someone for you like that. That’s not true.” 
“Spencer, those are just words. You can’t possibly know that. Statistical probabilities don’t count.” 
“That’s... that’s not how I know.” 
Your heart drops as you study his face.  
No. 
Surely he’s not saying what you think he’s saying. 
Surely he wouldn’t do this to you after you’ve just told him everything you told him. You have been harboring feelings for him for years. Since you met. He can’t just spring this on you one night because you’re a little bummed out. If he felt the same, you would have found out a long time ago; he had ample opportunity to tell you. There was a period of months where you practically threw yourself all over him at every chance you got, and he did nothing. So this... this is just cruel—something you’ve never known Spencer Reid to be. 
You stand up, trembling slightly with rage and grief and humiliation. 
“Don’t do that. Don’t say things that you don’t mean just to make me feel better.” 
“What are you doing? Don’t--” 
You scoop up your purse, trying to get to the front door as fast as your gelatinous legs will allow. More tears are streaming down your face now and you don’t need him to see what he’s done to you—to see how much you care what he thinks. 
“It’s fine. Thanks for the coffee, I’ll see you around—” 
A hand around your wrist stops you in your tracks 
“Stop. Just... please give me a second to talk, okay?” 
With nothing left to give, you turn to him. 
“Don’t be mean, Spencer. Don’t act like you liked me too. That makes me feel... so much worse.” 
He takes a deep, shaky breath, as if steeling himself. Tawny eyes bore into your soul, and you realize that there is so much sheer nervous energy radiating off of him it’s infectious. Your heart begins to pound as he speaks. 
“I’m not doing that. I’m being an idiot, because you just told me that you don’t feel that way about me anymore but... but I do. And I have to tell you now because for six months I tortured myself wondering why you would flirt with me so much when you were hammered and then act like nothing happened the next day. There were so many times I almost told you how I felt but I didn’t and now I am because even if it ruins our friendship you need to know that somebody... that I wanted to be that person for you. I still do.” 
Your heart is like an unmoored zeppelin in your chest, bumping against your esophagus and threatening to either burst or jump out of your mouth. You take your chances, whispering so quietly it’s almost inaudible. 
“You... you like me?” 
“Yes,” Spencer sighs. “I have liked you for a very long time. And I’m sorry—” 
Whatever ridiculous thing he was going to apologize for, you don’t give him the chance. Instead you launch yourself at him, capturing his lips in a kiss that feels so much better than it’d ever been in your fantasies because it’s real. You hear his sharp intake of breath, but it only takes a second for him to respond, cradling your face in his hands like you’re the entire world. For a moment, time bends. Years of longing, of buried dreams crash into the present in a brilliant, dazzling explosion.
And then, as quickly as it started, he pulls away. The absence of his touch is like a vacuum, so much worse now that you know exactly how it feels to have his lips on yours, even if it was only for a few seconds. How the hell did you live like that for so long? How are you supposed to live like that ever again?
“You’re not thinking clearly,” he breathes, tilting his head back toward the ceiling like he’s barely holding onto his self control. “You just want someone to comfort you, I’m not going to take advantage of you when you’re in an emotionally vulnerable state and confided in me which is manufacturing a false sense of attachment—” 
You grab his wrists, which still graze your jaw.
“Spencer, stop intellectualizing for thirty seconds. I promise you I am thinking clearly.” 
“You said you used to like me, past tense—” 
“Yeah, I did. Do you believe every single murderer who says he didn’t do it?” 
“No, but—” 
“Have you ever heard the phrase; a drunk man’s words are a sober man’s thoughts?” 
“Of course I have.” 
“Then what more could you possibly need to be convinced that I really like you? I already kissed you! What is stopping you?” 
Another deep breath is taken by him that seems to suck all the air out of the quiet room. Briefly, you wonder if you’ve made a terrible, terrible mistake. If you really do like him so much more than he could ever like you.  
Until he looks back down, eyes so golden-brown in the dim light, so kind and full of affectionate concern as he carefully assesses every square centimeter of your face, looking for... well, you’re not exactly sure what. It’s like he’s extracting every thought from your head, turning them over like sun-warmed stones until he finds what he’s looking for. He smooths his hands over your hair, brushing strands away from your teary face. Finally, after what feels like an eternity of holding your breath, he speaks. 
“I just want you to believe what I believe about you. But I don’t want you to have to rely on me or anyone else for your own self-worth.” 
“Well, don’t you think very highly of yourself,” you tease with a sniffle. He laughs—it's quiet, but his smile is so bright without even trying that suddenly you can’t remember why you’ve ever been sad. The small miracle of his laughter makes you feel so light, and you realize it has nothing to do with the way he makes you feel about yourself. It has everything to do with who he is. 
Once the giggles die down, you tentatively mirror his hold on your face. 
“Spencer, I don’t like you because you like me. I’ve liked you for an embarrassingly long time. I liked you enough that I gave myself a severe hangover at least once a week for three months just so I could have an excuse to flirt shamelessly with you.” 
A half-sad smile pulls at the corner of his mouth, and he gently swipes under your eyes. 
“You never had to do that. I would have welcomed your sober brazen flirting with open arms.” 
“Well... do you believe me?” you plead. His amber eyes shine. 
“I do.” 
“Will you kiss me?” 
“If that’s what you want.” 
You nod, rising on your toes to meet him halfway. 
When your lips meet again, it is sweet, and honest, and slow, and deep. Still, there is no desperation--no race to an imagined finish line, no clash of teeth and pawing hands. It is a kiss for the sake of it—as if it were the greatest intimacy. Not a precursor to sharing a bed, but something bigger than that in and of its own. Something just as worthy and important. For the first time, you think you’re beginning to understand romance. And while you wouldn’t mind if things did escalate, you also know that Spencer knows that’s not what matters right now. Because he actually understands you—he actually cares. He will wait until you understand that you mean so much more than that to him.
To that end, he pulls away, gently supplanting his absence with a kiss to the corner of your mouth. 
“It would be polite of me to offer you a ride home, wouldn’t it?” he whispers, like it’s the last thing he wants to do. You bite the inside of your cheek, coming up with reasons not to go. One ridiculous one arises from the depths of your memory that you know he won’t be able to say no to. 
“Or... I could stay here, and we could watch one of those nerdy foreign films you’re always talking about?” 
A slow, perfect, high-watt smile blossoms on his face, and you know you’ve said exactly the right thing. 
“Nerdy? Oh, my darling girl... Soviet-era filmography is far from nerdy. небесная машина will completely defy what you thought you knew about the life of an average Russian villager in the 1950’s.” 
“Oh, good. Because I’ve really been meaning to change the way I think about the average 1950’s Russian villager,” you smile, already closing in to kiss him again. 
------------------------------------------ 
epilogue
Three hours later, you’re crying because the life of the average Russian villager in the 1950’s was so much worse than you’d previously thought. 
“It was good, right?” Spencer asks as the credits roll over a bleak snowy sepia landscape, leaning back to get a better look at you. You sit up from where you’d been leaning against him, furiously wiping your eyes. 
“It was terrible! Why didn’t you tell me that everyone except the kid dies in the end?!” 
“Because that’s the whole point of the movie!” he laughs, pulling you back into him. “I’m sorry. I probably should have explained how depressing this entire era of film was outside of the US.” 
“And also how long the movies were. I was not prepared for how many five minute long clips of empty fields there were going to be.” 
“You’re right,” he ammends, wrapping his arms around you in a way that gives you butterflies and makes you sleepy at the same time. “Next time we can watch whatever you want to watch.” 
Time passes like that—you in his arms, watching weak light slowly flood the room with half-lidded eyes and listening to the sounds of the city waking up from the street below, underscoring the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. Thoughts float by like leaves on the ever-flowing current of your mind, and you’re happy to let them pass until one in particular catches your attention. 
“Spencer?” 
He hums, like he’d been deep in his own proverbial river of thought. 
“What does pulchritude mean?” 
It takes him a split second to remember the bit of conversation from earlier to which you are referring, but when he does, he chuckles, running his hand over your messy hair. 
“Don’t worry about it.” 
And so you let it float away. 
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