#of the songs in the boardroom scene better

[desicinema]

A whistle isn't enough. We need blasting background music. Slow motion...things flying in the air...we need a lot of special effects to it. I'll plan it. Let's go.

ALLU ARJUN in ALA VAIKUNTHAPURRAMULOO (2020)

#filmedit #movieedit #tollywoodedit #filmgifs #moviegifs #dailytvfilmgifs #dailyflicks #tvfilm #cinematv #mocedit #userfilm #allu arjun #ala vaikunthapurramuloo #telugu cinema #tollywood #bollywoodedit #* #roedits #i wish i understood the references #of the songs in the boardroom scene better #cause i was cracking up #i like kartik and everything #but its way too soon to remake this movie #q

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Everyone Else Is No.2 {One-Shot}***

Lewis Hamilton x Attorney Friend Reader

Warning: Cursing, NSFW, Mature 18+ Content, Angst, PLENTY OF WORDS, DIALOGUE HEAVY

Words: 15.2k

Summary: Again, nah.

Note: Inspired by that old August Alsina song "Kissing on My Tattoos". So sorry for how long it is and for the long sentences toward the end, it couldn't be any other way. Forgive the weird spacing throughout, Tumblr has a 1,000 block limit per post, and guess who reached it before correcting the spacing.

Note II: Really interested in hearing what you guys think about this one. Let me know.

As always, thank you guys for reading! I appreciate it. I hope you enjoy this.

If you did enjoy this, please, LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG!!!

***NOT Edited/Proofread***

-Y/N-

"You're beautiful you know that right?"

You smiled and took a sip of your drink.

"Thanks."

The man sitting across from you, Darius, nodded and before he looked down to his plate you caught his eyes drop to your cleavage. Of course, you thought. This was your 2nd date with him. The first went smoothly though you'd went with little to no expectations for it to be so. Tonight, he said the right things, did the right things, and was the perfect gentleman.

He'd even chosen a great restaurant. The ambiance was perfect for a second date. So far you had only counted 2 things that were less than satisfactory, everything was on point. He was so on point that you wondered if he was acting and not being his genuine self.

You hated the dating scene. Everyone held their cards too close to their chest. No one was ever real about anything. Everyone liked to waste people's time all in the name of fun and sex. These days you only treated dating as a pastime and a way to relieve stress after long hours of working on briefs and reviewing case files.

"A woman with your track record in law. Wheeew. Was it hard?"

You shrugged then wiped the corner of your mouth, "It definitely wasn't easy. I still remember the sleepless nights, and times when I only had 1 meal a day. My parents still remember not seeing me for 3 months because of the bar and my first major case that came nearly right behind the other. They won't let me forget it."

"It looks like it paid off. You're on the partner track. Shit, you'd be the first woman under 35 to make that happen at Halsey Boyd and Crenshaw," Darius said.

You bristled, but politely smiled and took another sip of your wine.

"I'm sorry I don’t mean to make this weird I'm just in awe of you."

You studied him for a few moments but found no lie. You could always tell a lie. No matter what the case, no matter who it was. It was your secret weapon and it served you well as a lawyer.

"Thank you, but enough about me. What about you? Tell me about Darius Forrester."

He smiled, licked his lips then looked you directly in the eye.

"I'm pretty much a what you see you get kind of guy. I've been at Berry & Clark for the last 6 years as a criminal attorney. The work is challenging but I do alright for myself.

You nodded. He did. From what you heard his win ratio was nearly 92% and he took upstanding cases. He was a good attorney. Normally you wouldn’t shit where you ate because mess was not your style. You did not want to walk into a courtroom or boardroom and see the opposing counsel was an ex. That one thing gave you nightmares.

So dating lawyers was out of the question. You dipped in every other career field, playing it safe. The further they were from a law career the better. However, after a conversation with your other lawyer girlfriends about limiting oneself in the already limited dating pool, something clicked, and you decided to try it once but only if they weren't in your firm. Darius was your first attempt.

As he continued to tell you facts about himself you listened, but he didn't have your full attention. There was another person who held your attention, a person who though was usually out of sight was never really out of mind.

You heard your phone sound from your clutch resting on the table and both your eyes shot to it. Darius spoke before you moved.

"Go ahead please."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm an attorney as well, Y/N I know you come attached to it."

You smiled, held up your finger to him silently promising it would be quick, then took your phone in hand. You expected it to be Kemi, your paralegal, with files you were expecting, but it wasn't her name on your screen.

MSG Lewis: What're you doing tonight? Going over an endless to-do list of contracts and briefs?

You smirked.

MSG: Not even close.

MSG Lewis: Wow did someone finally decide to live a little and cut loose?

MSG: This sounds an awful lot like the pot calling the kettle black.

MSG Lewis: Plead the 5th.

MSG: The Lewis Hamilton out maneuvered. Say it ain't so.

MSG: I'm close to your place. Just got back in town. Can you be ready in 10?

Your eyes flitted to Darius across from you who was taking the time to check his messages as well. You looked over him slowly, noting again how great he looked in his suit and how you liked the effort he had put in the last 2 dates down to the flowers he brought you and the activities you'd done. Things could progress if you chose to allow them to.

MSG Lewis: Is that a no?

MSG: I'm not home.

MSG Lewis: Okay. Where you at, the office? I can come pick you up.

MSG: I'm not at the office. I'm actually on a date.

You waited a few seconds, but he didn’t reply. Why didn't he reply?

"Everything ok?"

Caught off guard, you looked back up to Darius whose eyes were already on you. His brows were knitted with concern.

"Uh--yeah. I uh--I think so."

"A case?"

You thought about it and technically he was right. You were Lewis' entertainment lawyer. You were his personal attorney who reviewed the contracts after the company attorney said they had. You gave it to him between the eyes, never sugarcoating, and told him what was made with his best interest and what was made to capitalize off of him. However, when your services weren’t needed you were friends. Had been for practically a decade now.

Sometimes you couldn’t believe you’d known each other that long. You’d known him since he was just another F1 driver rather than the greatest. He knew you when you were going through school always on an empty tank all in the hopes of rising above the tax bracket you were born into. A decade later and he was dominating F1 and you’d more than risen yourself several levels past the tax bracket you’d been born into.

You were on the partner track at one of the largest firms in Europe. You brought in more revenue than most of the attorneys at the firm thanks to your high-class clientele. You'd both worked your asses off to get to this level and enjoyed the spoils of your labor often. You clubbed together, went to dinner, and sometimes did the vacation vibe together. You enjoyed one another’s company.  

"A client."

"Oh. Everything cool or---," Darius said.

Another message came in just then. "Everything is cool."

Darius smiled. "Good. I'll be right back, men’s room."

"Yeah."

Darius stood then walked off leaving you with the perfect opportunity to check your phone.

MSG Lewis: Is that right?

MSG: Yeah. 2nd date. Well technically 3rd if you can have 2 dates in one day.

MSG Lewis: Cool. Is it going well?

MSG: Yeah. He's made it this far.

MSG Lewis: Cool.

MSG: When he drops me home Ill text you. Come get me then.

Several moments passed before he replied. Again, you wondered why.

MSG Lewis: Cool.

The remainder of dinner you were distracted. Darius played all his cards right, even scoring himself the green light on a little hand-holding action. You had to admit he was smooth. When he pulled up to your condo building he walked you to your door then went in for a kiss. You hadn’t expected it, but rather than pull away, you allowed it to play out. It wasn’t a bad kiss. He hadn’t been too overzealous, only slipped you a little tongue, and had kept his hands respectful. All in all, for a first kiss it was a solid 8.

With a promise to call to set date number 4 sometime next week, you went inside and allowed yourself to come down. The dating scene was not something you enjoyed often. You always felt like you were performing, like men wanted a certain kind of woman, the perfect woman who they could prance around on their arm to make other men envious and that took its toll.

You never felt you had to perform with Lewis. Never felt like he wanted the perfect you. He made fun of you whenever you were perfectly put together for work meetings and said many times he liked you out of the makeup and heels. After another sigh, you took your phone out and texted him.

~~~~~~

-Lewis-

The ceiling looked like every other ceiling he’d ever seen but that didn’t stop him from focusing most of his attention on it like it was the most interesting piece of construction ever. His eyes should have been focused elsewhere but they weren’t. A loud 'slurp' echoed in the mostly quiet room reminding him again that he wasn’t alone.

"Mm. Why are you so distracted tonight, bae?"

Julissa's voice was as smooth as honey and as seductive as ever. He lowered his eyes to where she was kneeling between his legs and took her in. Her lips and chin were wet as she gave him her bedroom eyes. This was not the first time between them. Usually, it would work but not tonight. Tonight he was struggling to even keep his head in the room.

He watched her tip her tongue out and lick from the base of his dick to the glistening tip. Once there she swirled her tongue around him then sucked his head into her mouth. He’d have to be dead for it not to feel nice but that’s all it was--nice.

He sighed then brought his attention back to the ceiling. "Work."

"Aw babe, when you’re with me work should be the last thing on your mind," Julissa said before lowering her mouth down his shaft. When he felt her tonsils he groaned. His body wanted to like this wanted to give her the reaction she was working so hard for, but something was holding him back. Julissa's mouth bobbed up and down his cock sucking and slurping to her heart’s content trying to get him off, but he knew she had her work cut out for her.

He thought back to your text from 2 hours ago. You were on a date. Well shit, he hadn’t seen that coming. That was the last thing he had expected you to be doing tonight. It wasn’t because you weren’t desirable, or he thought no man would want you. For fuck's sake, you were beyond desirable, you were gorgeous and so damn intelligent. He couldn’t figure out which of those made you more beautiful, your looks or your brains. You also worked hard to be where you were, and you deserved all the praise and attention you got wherever you went.

However, sometimes he wished you got a little less male attention--x that, a lot less male attention. He sighed again. This had been going on for 10 years now. Your friendship had only strengthened but along with a strengthening friendship came a lot of other stuff. Stuff like him taking notice of the fullness of your hips or being tempted to peek when you’d been changing in the backseat of his car, or being painfully aware of how your breasts felt against his chest when you hugged.

That coupled with things he had picked up from you, made the unspoken and ignored things that much more—confusing. There were times when the way you stared at him when you thought he wasn’t looking spoke volumes or the way your hand always lingered on him for a few seconds longer than necessary but not long enough for it to be inappropriate, or the time you'd fallen asleep together on the couch and he'd woken to you wrapped around him using him as your personal body pillow and mumbling his name in your sleep.

Yeah, there was a lot of extra stuff, stuff neither of you ever addressed. The only ones who assessed it were his friends. Miles told him on several occasions that he should be careful before he or you fucked around, and someone ended up hurt. That stuck with him, but not in the way Miles had probably meant it. Rather than taking it the way Miles meant, he used it as a means to keep himself in check, a form of prevention from him crossing the line. He knew if he did, neither of you would be able to go back. It would be impossible and was one fuck up worth a decades-long friendship?

So friends were where you stayed until he added another facet--professional. Years passed, dates passed, flings, non-labeled encounters on both your parts passed and through it all your friendship remained, and nothing changed. Except today there was even more extra stuff.

The feel of Julissa’s lips wrapped around his balls sent his hips jerking upward as a curse left his lips. Julissa moaned and giggled.

“Daddy likes that?”

He knew how he would like it more. As quickly as he revved to that thought he steered away from it. That was when his phone sounded.

MSG Y/N: I’m home. Whatdaya you wanna do? Should I change?

His eye caught the time. 1am. Almost 3 hours from your last text and you were only now getting home. Clenching his jaw he took a deep breath. He had no right to be mad or annoyed right now. He knew where this was coming from. You’d been on a date, and you said it was going well. A date going well had a chance of making it upstairs. He closed his eyes squeezing them tightly. He hoped to God that you hadn’t just gotten it in.

MSG Y/N: Hello?

MSG: You don’t have to change. How about some treats and a view?

MSG Y/N: Okay. Still 10?

MSG: Make it 15.

Pulling himself up he reached down to stop Julissa. She looked confused.

“I gotta go J.”

Now she looked even more confused. He didn’t owe her an explanation, that’s not how this worked between them.

“With your dick out?”

He scoffed then fixed himself as he stood.

“Lewis this’s never happened before. Are--,” she began before he cut her off.

“All good, just—not in the mood I guess.”

She looked offended now. “I’m sorry J. We’ll talk.”

He walked to the door then left her apartment without a glance back. He didn’t feel any way about it because both of them knew what their relationship was and wasn’t. She’d agreed. Once he was in his car, he zipped through the London streets maneuvering the quickest route to your place. Thanks to the time it was an easy drive with minimal traffic. 15 minutes on the dot he swerved around to the front of your luxury condo building then sent you a text letting you know he was there.

A few minutes later, he peeped you from the corner of his eye. You walked off the elevator in a short and tight black dress, impossibly high strappy black heels, and a flowy robe-like jacket that danced behind you as you walked.

“Fuck.”

You were beautiful. Just then the thought that you’d gone on a date dressed like this rubbed him wrong. Some other man had seen this view, a view you gave willingly. Clenching his jaw, he looked through his windshield as he tried to push all those thoughts—all that other stuff to the side as he’d done countless times before. He looked back just in time to see you open the door of his car then climb in. His eyes dropped to your legs but seconds later he corrected that.

“Hi!”

Your smile was bright as if you really were as happy to see him as your voice indicated.

“Hey.”

You reached over and pressed your cheek to his for a bougie kiss. The only thing he could think was that you smelled like a treat all by yourself.

“How are you?”

“Good. You?”

“Good. Wow, what’s it been? 2 months?”

He shrugged as he shifted gears and took off. “Something like that.”

“Mercedes sure knows how to keep you busy,” you teased.

He tried to focus on the road but from his peripheral, he could see you crossing your legs displaying even more skin.

“What were you doing? You smell like fruits.”

He chastised himself because he hadn’t done a bit of cleaning up before he came. His only thought was you. Julissa’s fruity lip gloss still stained his dick that he couldn’t manage to get hard for her.

“Nowhere special. Just kickin’ it.”

You didn’t press further which said you knew just what he was doing. He clenched his jaw again, this time annoyed with himself. As he drove to the dessert place you told him about what was going on in your life while he shared some bits of his with you. Like always conversation flowed like a calm river. It was something he loved. It didn’t take long for him to pull up to the drive-thru of the vegan dessert shop. When it was his turn at the window he tipped his hat lower and left the ordering to you.

You ordered damn near everything on the menu. You didn’t care if it was cake, cupcake, ice cream, brownie, or whipped cream. You ordered at least 2 of everything. It took the staff a good 5 minutes to prepare it all and when he loaded them in the backseat it was completely filled. When he looked at you with an “are you serious right now” look, all you did was giggle. Fuck, he thought. There went all that extra stuff again.

“There is no way we can finish all this,” he said looking at the bags they’d moved to the front since parking at their destination.

“Speak for yourself. I always have room for sugar, sugar.”

He snorted then shook his head. “Mad whack.”

Your jaw dropped as you gaped at him, and you looked too fucking adorable. You sifted through the bags until you found the dessert you wanted—the vanilla bean cheesecake. Your eyes lit up as you gawked at the large slice that was topped with white chocolate shavings. “It's so pretty,” you gushed.

He watched you snap picture after picture of the treat before you took your first forkful. When you did, your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you let out a completely indulgent, hearty, and dick-hardening moan. The fuck, he thought as his dick spasmed to life. Quickly he moved one of the bags to his lap and looked out the window.

“This is so good,” you obliviously said still munching on cake.

He pulled out the vegan chocolate truffle cake and took a bite. It too was good.

“That looks good. Is it?”

“Try it,” he said holding out a forkful to your mouth.

You paused for a split second then cut off a piece of your cheesecake before you held your fork to his mouth.

“You try too.”

The image that came to mind was that of a new husband and wife feeding each other wedding cake and with it, his throat went dry. He knew if he tried to speak he’d sound like a pre-pubescent boy, so he wrapped his lips around your fork taking the piece of cake then fed you his. Your eyes lingered on one another for a few moments nut when you moaned again his dick spasmed again. with that he turned his head so fast that he was surprised he hadn’t snapped his own neck in the process.

“So good,” you repeated.

The two of you sat there commenting on the desserts you went through in record time. He didn’t indulge in sweets often but when he did he found it was usually with your sugar-addicted ass. You said there were 4 things in life you would never give up, sugar, your favorite perfume, your favorite underwear set, and sex. He believed you on all points. When there were only a few pieces of cake left the silence in the car stretched.

“So—a date huh.”

“A date.”

“I thought you gave up dating.”

You took a deep breath then slowly released it before turning your body at an angle facing him. The hem of your dress hiked a little higher and he forced himself to look away.

“I did. Then I got bored and he asked.”

“What does he do?”

You didn’t answer automatically, instead, you took another forkful or 2 of cake, then you spoke.

“He’s an attorney.”

“I thought you didn’t date attorneys.”

“I don’t but me and the girls were talking, and it clicked that by x-ing out a whole career field greatly decreased me finding someone who could stick around.”

He paused. Stick around? This was new.

“Stick around? Are you—are you looking for something—serious?”

You took a beat then shrugged. “I don’t know. I thought the other day, I have everything I have ever wanted. I am on this partner track, I make very high 6 figures, I have a great condo, my mental health is amazing, I have no debt, no baby daddies or drama, I—I’m kinda a catch but I go to sleep alone 98% of my nights. I come home to an empty place, I have no meaningful text exchanges, there is—nothing fulfilling in my life. I began to wonder if it was time to change all of that last bit.”

Silence stretched again as he thought over your words while studying you. This was the first time he’d heard you speak like this. Usually, you changed the subject or downplayed having any other thoughts than fun, sex, and work. Now hearing the vulnerability in your voice he knew you’d come to a point where all of this, intention-free dating, pastime sex, stress-busting flirting and all the meaningless interactions were unfulfilling and empty. You wanted more, you wanted love, a life, a husband, kids, vacation homes, and retirement funds, you wanted the quintessential definition of it all. He also noted you now found everything he was currently partaking in meaningless and unfulfilling.

Dropping his head, he stabbed the cake still in his hands. The more puncture holes it picked up the less and less he wanted it.

“Fuck, maybe I’m just bored and need a really, really, good fuck.”

He snorted but it was humorless.

“Don’t downplay what you feel, Y/N. Don’t—make what you feel insignificant, so you feel less vulnerable. It’s okay to be vulnerable. It’s you and me here.”

“It’s just—you—I know those are things you don’t necessarily want and you’re happy with the--.”

“Who said I don’t want those things?”

His tone was sharp and defensive though he hadn’t meant for it to be.

“Uh—you did.”

“No. I said it’s not something I can afford right now with my schedule and my contract extension. I didn’t say I never wanted it.”

You looked away from him to out the window. “Yeah, but your actions say a lot different,” you mumble.

“What does that mean?”

“Nothing.”

“Y/N, look at me. What does that mean?”

You sat quietly for a few moments then just when he was about to ask again you blurted.

“There is a difference between I don’t want it now and I don’t want it ever. Someone who wants it someday would leave themselves open to it rather than boxing every interaction they have into--other things.”

“What if I don’t want to open myself to it?”

“That’s clear Lew.”

“No. You don’t get it. What if I don’t want to open myself to it because I don’t want to find the perfect thing—the perfect woman and then be fucked because it’s too soon and too hard to keep her in my world to wait until I can make those commitments because my world is fucked—I’m fucked because I want the world and will actually keep going until I get it anyone else be damned.”

He could feel your eyes on him, and it was his turn to feel vulnerable and exposed.

“You think because you put everyone in one box it stops what’s meant to be from—being?”

He glanced at you with a pained expression, he knew it. He was actually feeling pain.

“Also—you’re not fucked because you want the world. I want the fucking world. Am I fucked?”

“To be determined.”

You both busted out laughing then. You laughed for a good minute then smiled as it tapered off.

“Aren’t you the tiniest bit lonely in the other side of your life—away from F1?”

He didn’t need to think about that. He knew the answer, but he didn’t want to tell you. The facts were that he was lonely more times than not. That was when he called someone to come distract him or make him feel good. He’d become an expert in the art of distraction. In his life, he only had time and the capacity for low stress and no mess. He had enough of both already.

He felt your hand creep into his and squeeze gently. Suddenly, there was all this other stuff again. The feel of your smaller hand in his larger one was something he really liked. Usually, when either of you took the other’s hand it was in passing or for a second, but the moment lingered and stretched, and still you kept your hand in his swirling your fingers against his palm and other fingers. He liked this too much.

“You can tell me. I won’t judge you. In fact—I’m lonely.”

His eyes slipped to you. Your head was down staring at your hands. It had now moved to trace the tattoos on his hand with the point of your nail as if his flesh were an adult coloring book. He watched you trace the rose on his pinky, then the planets on his ring finger. When you got to the lined arrow down his middle, he was having trouble swallowing again. Slowly, you traced the spaceship then went up across the sword until you reached his wrist.

He didn’t know if there was rhyme or reason to your movements or if you were just absently doing it. Goosebumps peppered his skin when you went up his forearm. He looked at you just before your eyes met his.

“You are?”

You nodded. “I am,” you whispered.

The air was on but inside the car easily felt like a sweltering 99 degrees. He didn’t know if it was from your touch or if it was the shift in the air between you. Did you notice it too?

“I think it’s okay to be lonely especially looking at how we live. We’re always working, always pushing ourselves to and through glass ceilings and when we do there is no one really there to share it with, not really, not in the way that fulfills,” you said.

Your face was closer to his now. Had he moved closer or was it you? Your eyes met again, and the temperature kicked up again. Fuck, he thought as his dick recklessly spasmed, begging for attention.

“I’m never lonely with you,” he said before his brain could stop his mouth.

A small smile lit your face, “Me too. Never with you.”

The smile slipped. “Well—not always.”

He turned to you more now, curiosity filling him. “What do you mean?”

You stayed quiet for a few moments but kept tracing his skin with your nail.

“There are times I can’t—guess what you’re thinking. Times I can’t—figure you out.”

“Then ask me.”

“Would you really tell me?”

He leaned closer. “I’d tell you anything.”

You searched his eyes, but you didn’t move back.

“Anything?”

He nodded slowly. His head felt hazy like you had him under some sort of spell with nothing more than your presence and the tip of your finger and all he truly wanted was to touch you in return. So he did. Reaching across to your exposed knee, he circled his finger around the smooth skin there. You sucked in a breath the moment his finger touched you and that one action nearly had him pulling you across the partition right onto his lap. Nearly.

So there on a hill that overlooked London, in his car, sitting near enough to a lone road light, you trailed your finger across his forearm while he did the same to your knee. The low light that illuminated the car bathed your skin in amber making him feel like you were on a whole different plane of existence rather than this real proven and tangible one. Your eyes held him in place to the point where he felt like he couldn’t move though he wanted to.

Without even realizing it you were mere inches from him. In fact, you were so close he could make out the hidden colors in your eyes, so close he could smell the fragrance on your skin that went deeper than perfume. This was your essence and by God he was intoxicated. Unable to stop himself, he inched his hand higher gripping your inner thigh. A soft moan fell from your lips and that was all it took for him to press his forehead to yours like the sound was tethered to his very core.

“Y/N,” he groaned.

The sheer might it was taking to keep himself restrained was becoming too much. At this point, it wouldn’t take much for him to abandon those restraints and give in.

“Lewis,” you whispered.

Your voice was raspy and dripping with what he dared label as desire. Fuck, he thought as he squeezed your thigh. He was so close, mere inches and it wouldn’t take much to close the gap between his fingers and your core but still, he fought himself. He was so wrapped up in his own battle for control within himself that he didn’t even realize when your hand rested on his upper thigh. You were dangerously close to kicking the lid off the box of other stuff that he’d worked years to keep shut. Half of him silently begged for you to keep going and kick it off so everything would be out in the open and it would be do or die but the other half of him hesitated still. The unknown was a powerful and sobering drug.

Your hand inched higher, then closer to what was the rock-hard physical evidence that deep down, now closer to the surface than ever before, he felt more, wanted more than what was. He wanted more than he could possibly afford. Still, his hand persisted, it inched higher making your hips jerk forward. The knowledge that he’d hit a sensitive spot sent his system into overdrive making a deep moan from his lips fill the car.

On cue in response, your legs opened a few inches more, making way for his hand. Jesus Christ he thought. There was his consent, you wanted him as he wanted you. There would be nothing wrong with him slipping his fingers underneath whatever underwear you wore. Fuck, he hoped they were lacy and strappy. There would be nothing wrong with him letting your hand slide to the aching dick straining against his pants begging for your attention. Shit, he bet your hands would feel incredible wrapped around him. There would be nothing wrong with him moving closer and finally claiming your lips as his. Damn, he just knew they were as sweet as they looked, that they felt amazing. There would be nothing wrong with him pulling your body against his for more than a clothed hug. There would be nothing wrong with him cupping your breasts and swirling his thumb across your nipple just to see the reaction it elicited. God damn it, he knew your moans would destroy him. There would be nothing wrong with him finally learning what you tasted like, nothing wrong with him finally smearing your wetness across his lips. Holy fuck, he knew you had to taste like pure sugar and cream.

His cock spasmed again then your hand made the move for him. In the same breath with his eyes squeezed tight, he lurched for your hand, gripping you by your wrist stopping you just before you touched him. As he did that his jaw clenched, the only thing he could do to stifle the moan at the tip of his tongue. It came out as a half groan and growl instead. The strangled whine that left you said you liked it, and he knew he had to end this here. It took him some time to find the smallest bit of control to open his eyes, but he didn’t possess enough control to look at you. There was no way he could.

“I’ll take you home,” he said, voice low and so close to a whisper.

He tried to keep the longing, regret, and hope from it. Slowly he removed his hand from your thigh hoping with everything in him that you grabbed it and nudged it higher. You didn’t though, so he turned forward readying himself to drive. You didn’t move for several long moments; you remained there half facing him with your thighs still tempting him to go back and take things further. With his hands on the steering wheel, he trained his eyes forward. He could feel all the antsy energy bouncing off every cell of his body, he could feel all the need in him wreaking havoc on him telling him to stop being a pussy and do what he really wanted to, say what he wanted to, take what he wanted.

His hands squeezed so tightly that the creaking of the leather echoed in the intense silence in the car. Just when he was about to say fuck it, you turned away from him. You softly cleared your throat then buckled yourself in. Sighing, he pushed started the ignition then swerved out of the parked spot they were in taking the route back to the city. As he drove you didn’t speak, you didn’t even move. You kept your head turned away from him looking out the passenger window with your legs crossed away from him. Your body language sent a completely different message now. Before you were open and so close to him. Now, you were so far he wondered if he’d turned Miles’ words into truths.

~~~~~

-Y/N- 8 Months Later-

The loud ‘pop’ of a champagne cork echoed just behind you making you spin in that direction. A group was just behind you laughing and toasting to something you guessed was momentous. You sighed then turned back to the painting you were currently studying. The abstract lines and swoops looked so similar to the slopes of a body. The longer you stared at it the more it felt like an erotic image than some random lines and swirls. There was something about it that stirred something in you, something that you’d ignored and buried so deep, something you hadn’t felt for 8 months.

You drained your champagne glass then squeezed your eyes shut. It had been a long 8 months. You’d worked your ass off times ten taking on more and more clients than before. You brought on 12 celebrity clients and 4 major corporate ones which brought Halsey, Boyd, and Crenshaw to the top of the field in revenue. You brought in so much money that you’d gotten 7 poaching offers from firms in different parts of the country.

Thanks to those offers that you hadn’t necessarily kept confidential, the interest in you for partner rose to unbeatable levels. Anyone you were competing against for the position paled in comparison. Those 8 months of ass-busting work led to your name being signed on the paperwork titling you as the new partner at Halsey Boyd and Crenshaw. It was so much of a done deal that your bank account proudly embraced your new status.

With that new status came an increase in the events you had to make an appearance at as thee number 1 entertainment and criminal attorney in London. Your calendar quickly filled with meetings, speeches, appearances, court appearances, dinners, and more. You were so booked that the next time you had any schedule free time was 6 months away. You’d catapulted so far out of your original tax bracket that you’d shattered the glass ceiling that tried to confine you and now you wondered if you’d aimed too high.

“Looks like I’m right on time.”

You looked to your right and found Darius holding another glass of champagne for you. Smiling, you took it.

“That you are, thank you.”

“Of course. To you, the youngest and newest partner at Halsey Boyd and Crenshaw and in the greater London area.”

You smiled as the man who’d stuck around through your insane schedule, your hot and cold behavior, your pull you close one minute, push you away the next, your disappearing acts, your reluctance to place a label on your interactions, your give me sex then get gone rule, and more for the last 8 months.

“Thank you, Darius,” you said leaning toward him and pressing your lips against his.

Darius moaned and reciprocated the kiss, snaking his hand around your waist and pulling you close. You felt like you were thanking him for much more than the toast and the fresh glass of champagne. You felt like you were thanking him for taking your bare minimum and it made you feel like shit.

Darius pressed his forehead to yours and instantly you had a flash back to the last man who’d done that to you. In a split second, your heart rate spiked, and an intense feeling gripped you.

“You don’t have to thank me, love.”

Your reaction to the action ricocheted through you making you pull away from Darius. Turning back to the painting, you gulped down the champagne.

“It’s crazy that your firm has so many celebrity clients and that this many are here to welcome you as partner,” Darius said in hushed tones.

“It is crazy.”

All night you’d been rubbing elbows with actors, musicians, models, athletes, and more. All of them congratulated you on your promotion and wished you greater success in the future. It was touching but a little bit overwhelming. You couldn’t let on though, so for the entire night you’d been performing, and you were nearing the limits of your stamina for it. You’d been performing for the last 8 months. Shit, you’d even been performing with Darius. You’d been performing ever since you were dropped off in those early morning hours those 8 months ago.

“Y/N,”

To your left, your paralegal now turned assistant, Kemi touched your elbow drawing your attention to her.

“Hey, girl.”

“Hey, you look incredible,” she said.

“Stop saying that please, you’re gonna blow my head up so big I just might start thinking I deserve a higher position.”

She giggled but gave you a look that said “well ya’ do.”

“The big wigs are asking for you, although you’re now one of them so--.”

You snorted while rolling your eyes. “Then doesn’t that make you the big wig assistant?”

She posed then making you laugh.

“I’ll be right back,” you said to Darius as you walked off to find those big wigs.

It didn’t take long before you found them surrounded by a group of about 10 people. When they saw you they waved you over with large smiles on their faces. You took a deep breath and approached them with an equally large smile.

“There she is ladies and gentlemen!”

The group smiled, patted your back, and welcomed you with friendly banter.

“Everyone!”

The music died down and someone handed Malcolm Boyd a microphone. He was your biggest fan, a black man who’d made unfathomable feats in the field and became an incredible mentor and second father to you. He put his arm around your shoulder as he always did.

“I am filled with great happiness and pride calling this woman the new partner here at Halsey, Boyd, and Crenshaw!”

Everyone began applauding then, drowning out his next words so he paused and allowed them a few moments before continuing.

“She has been with us for 6 years now and in those 6 years she has accomplished incredible things and when she was done with those incredible things she moved on to outstanding things. Y/N has reminded many of us of what it means to be determined and persistent. She tackles every case with poise, confidence, and grace and that confidence has given her that 99% win record.”

Again everyone clapped. You softly smiled at them half embarrassed by the praise but half so damn proud of yourself and happy that your accomplishments were being recognized.

“Just as Malcome said, “Patrick Halsey began placing his hand on Malcom’s shoulder, “Y/N more than deserves this promotion and I expect her to blow all of our minds in the coming months and years. We just might have to add another name to the plague.”

Many in the audience hollered and hooted at that and you couldn’t lie that the greedy ambition within you salivated at that possibility. You still wanted more. You exchanged a look with Malcome who gave you an all-knowing look. You just found your next accomplishment. The founding partners took turns praising you and giving reasons why you’d earned this promotion then raised their glasses to you for the ultimate toast of congratulations. You humbly thanked them and gave a quick appreciative speech before lifting your glass to the audience.

As you drank down the tart liquid, your eye caught sight of a figure you hadn’t seen in person for almost 2 months—Lewis. He stood at the back in a black suit that clearly was made for him. His braids were pulled back in the way he liked when he was tackling more professional events. He looked as good as ever. He lifted his glass of water to you and in response you gave him a tight smile.

The same thing happened that always happened when you met one another ever since that night. Your body went through this strange cycle of reaction, excitement, confusion, hurt, anger, annoyance, and disappointment. It was exhausting. Because of these feelings, you regretted that night. You regretted allowing your thoughts to go so astray that you opened up your ‘what if’ box. You regretted every whisper, every lean in, every almost touch, every lingering look, everything. You even regretted getting out of his car when he pulled up to your condo instead of pulling him by his hair to you and telling him to go upstairs with you. you didn’t know what you regretted more.

The worst part was that you had to continue on like always. Normally it wouldn’t be a problem because that night was not the first night there had been many ‘what if’ nights over your decade-long friendship. The common factor was that both of you moved on and slinked back into the basics of your relationship—comfort and friendship. This time is difficult, so difficult you contemplated passing his case off to another attorney. If it hadn’t been for Malcome talking you out of it he would have been someone else’s responsibility. Instead, you put on your big girl panties and a mask and did something you never thought you’d ever do with him—performed.

When the crowd thinned out and everyone returned to what they were doing you began making your way back to Darius in the opposite direction. You were ready to leave. Before you got far Lewis stepped in front of you stopping you in your tracks.

“Congratulations, Y/N.”

Smiling, you thanked him.

“You look--,” his words stalled as his eyes roamed your body. You noted the conflicted look on his face before it disappeared. “Incredible,” Lewis finished.

His compliment made your body warm and something like hope filled you. Chastising yourself you swallowed the lump in your throat. “Thank you. You look nice too.”

Lewis scoffed softly then nodded. You then tried to slip by him, however, Lewis wasn’t having it. Again, he stepped in front of you.

“In a rush to get away from me?”

“Why would you say that? Have you done anything to me for me to want that?”

Silence stretched and Lewis studied you his jaw clenched tightly. Instead of speaking, he looked down, an act of defeat.

“Can we talk, Y/N?”

“We’re talking right now.”

He gave you an unamused look, but you kept your nonchalant, innocent one. Unexpectedly Miles approached then.

“There she is--partner lady. Congratulations Y/N.”

You smiled then hugged Miles. “Thank you!”

“This is incredible news, Y/N. So happy for you.”

“I appreciate that. Thank you for coming,” you replied.

“You know me, always this fool’s plus one.”

You smiled then the silence returned for a few seconds before Lewis spoke again.

“Maybe we can go somewhere—quiet after this?”

“Unfortunately I don’t think I can.”

“Why?”

Just then Darius approached and wrapped his arm around your waist resting his hand on your hip. You watched Lewis’ eyes drop to that hand and continued to watch as his jaw turned tight as if it filled with cement.

“Oh wow. Lewis Hamilton,” Darius said turning to you, his voice awestricken. “Babe it’s Lewis Hamilton.”

You nodded as a soft smile played on your lips. “Let me introduce you. Darius, this is one of my clients, Lewis Hamilton, and his best friend Miles Chamley-Watson fencing champion and Olympian. Miles, Lewis this is my—.”

You hesitated and in the same second, you felt Darius’ eyes on you filled with hope. Two other pairs of eyes were on you--one giving complete double eyeball emoji and the other searing you almost daring you to continue. The longer you didn’t speak, you watched Darius’ hope turn to disappointment. Glancing back at Lewis you found his eyebrow up with a curious and confrontational look while Miles was the epitome of if ‘well this is awkward’ was a person.

“This is Darius Forrester.”

You felt even more like shit now. Darius shook Lewis’ hand first then Miles’. While he did Lewis looked him over sizing him up. You knew he was wondering if he was the same man from those months ago when you’d told him you were on a date.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, I’m a fan,” Darius said to Lewis.

“Thank you. I appreciate that. I can sign something for you if you want.”

You rolled your eyes at his underhanded jab while a half chortle escaped Miles. Darius on the other hand leapt at the opportunity, handing Lewis the only thing he had, an art bidding ballot. Lewis signed the back but kept his eyes on Darius’ hand on your hip.

“Bidding on some art tonight?”

“I am. There is a piece this gorgeous angel has been staring at all night, it’ll be my gift to her for her promotion,” Darius explained rubbing your hip.

You smiled at him then kissed his cheek. Lewis now looked entertained while Miles’ eyes widened as he finished the drink in his hand.

“Ehm, anyway. So I’m sorry I can’t pencil you in tonight but if you call Kemi and make an appointment she’ll get you on the calendar for a different day for that talk,” you said.

“Plans tonight,” Miles guessed looking between you and Darius.

“Absolutely. I’ve had way too much to drink and plan on taking advantage of that.”

You leaned closer to Darius kicking up your performance another notch. Lewis smirked but also clenched his jaw to that. Miles whistled while nodding his head.

“Go on then Ms. Partner, fly by the seat of your panties or no panties,” Miles teased making you and Darius chuckle while Lewis gave him an unamused look.

“Well, enjoy your evening gentlemen. Thank you again for coming by,” you said before you made a move to walk off with Darius.

As you walked away you placed your hand over Darius’ and slyly slipped it lower to rest on your ass. You knew Lewis was watching and decided to deliver the last blow. Was it petty? Yes. Was it fair to Daius? Not at all.

The next hour or so passed with you roaming around the gallery looking at the art while Darius flirted with you. As you roamed, no matter where you went you saw Lewis from the corner of your eye and no matter how much space was between you, your skin reacted as if Darius’ touch was his. The more you felt that way the reality that Darius’ touch was in fact all his own annoyed you making you feel even worse. You knew what needed to be done and knew it had to be done soon.

The only way you could distract yourself was with glass after glass of champagne. As you emerged from one of your countless trips to the bathroom you bumped into Miles.

“Funny bumping into you here.”

You smiled warmly, “Still here? I thought you and Lewis left hours ago.”

“You knew we were still here,” he accused.

You tried to give an affronted look but failed. He was right. Sighing, your act fell for the first time that night.

“Wow. Feels good to not perform huh.”

You looked at Miles and wondered just how much he knew. He didn’t keep you in suspense long.

“What a twisted web we weave when we practice to deceive.” He scoffed, shook his head then continued, look, I am going to tell you the same thing I told Lewis.”

You perked up then but tried to play it off.

“You better stop playing before somebody gets hurt and by the looks of it, it’s gonna be your homeboy Darius if not all three of you.”

You took in his words then put your mask back in place. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yeah you do, just like Lewis knew what I was talking about all those years ago, but he still decided to keep playing, and now look where we are.”

Your curiosity peaked then. “What are you talking about Miles? What do you think you know?”

He scoffed. “I’m a straightforward kinda guy so I’ll say I know everything. As the neutral 3rd party who is both on the outside looking in and the inside watching this train wreck, I know everything. I know what he tells me and what he doesn’t tell me, and I know what you don’t tell him.”

Your eyes lingered and the longer they did the more you got his meaning. Glancing away you tried to pretend like his words meant nothing, but you knew you were failing.

“I get it, I really do; 10 years is a long time to put at risk but are you really putting it at risk knowing all you know? You have 10 years of proof. Man up.”

Miles leaned in, kissed your cheek, and whispered, “Let homeboy go so he can find someone who really loves him, someone who can love him. Your corner is full.”

With that, he walked away leaving you speechless and confused. Your corner was full? You had no idea whatsoever what that meant, and you were tempted to follow Miles and get some clarification, but you decided against it remembering the last time you chased down the rabbit hole. When you found Darius again his expression was somber when he told you that the painting he’d been bidding on was outbid and that he didn’t have it to gift you. After assuring him you were fine, you decided you were more than ready to leave.

Darius got the car as you waited outside allowing the cold air to cool your skin. You didn’t care that you were risking illness because it served as a needed distraction. When you felt a fabric drape over your shoulders you bristled at first but then Lewis’ scent circled you and your body relaxed. Even that annoyed you.

“I don’t need this. Darius will be back soon anyway.”

Lewis snorted. “8 months, is that a record?”

“I think it’s a record for you, but I’ve gone longer.”

He scoffed then shook his head. “No doubt, remember Y/N. I will be here long after you get bored with them all. I’m always here.”

Your eyes locked and his should have been radiating cockiness that matched his words, but instead, they were gentle, open, and vulnerable.

“Will you?”

There was no time to reply because a car horn blared drawing your attention. Darius waved at you as he got out of the car to walk around to the passenger side.

“Good night Lewis.”

You walked away from him then slipped into the passenger side. As you waited for Darius to get in and drive off, you stared at Lewis who hadn’t budged from the curb where you left him. Miles’ words echoed back to you then.

“Just like Lewis knew what I was talking about all those years ago, but he still decided to keep playing, and now look where we are.”

“You have 10 years of proof.”

“Your corner is full.”

The word ‘full’ echoed over and over as Darius pulled off. Bullshit, you said to yourself in disbelief.

When Darius pulled up to your condo you sat there marinating in all your thoughts throughout the nearly thirty-minute drive. It wasn’t until you felt Darius’ hand on your exposed knee did you realize he was still there.

“Are you okay? Want me to come up?”

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. “We need to talk Darius.”

When you looked at him his expression said he knew just what you were about to say. Being as gentle as you could, you ended things. Although the old “it’s not you it’s me” line fit the situation perfectly. You dug a little deeper and gave him and heartfelt reason without revealing you were and had been in love with your best friend for 10 years and didn’t realize it until his feelings were already on the line. When you finished, Darius remained the good guy he was and told you he understood and that he’d expected this sooner or later. You thanked him for being good to you then began making your way to the elevators.

Halfway there you dug into the pocket of the jacket you wore and froze. When you took your hand out you held a note with your name sprawled on the front in Lewis’ handwriting.

-Y/N-

I’ve thought for months about what to say to you because there is so much to say, so much that has gone unsaid for so long that I don’t know where to start—how to start. 10 years is a long time especially when neither of us has been 100% honest with the other. I want to end that. Please.

-Lewis

You read then reread the note over and over hoping you would know what to do next but no matter how many times you did, you had nothing. So you walked back and forth in the lobby. When your phone sounded, you found a message from Lewis.

MSG Lewis: Ball’s in your court. I’m outside your building.

You froze then slowly turned and saw his car. It had been months since you’d been in a car with him and the thought of doing it again freaked you out a little. Your eyes met at that moment, but he didn’t move. He was giving you the time to decide for yourself. You turned your back to him then walked to the elevators but stopped halfway. After a few moments, you turned back around and walked to the doors only to stop halfway again and repeat the whole cycle. Still, Lewis didn’t budge. He just watched as your internal debate played out physically.

After ten minutes you stooped down and put your down, completely exhausted by your indecisiveness. Taking a deep breath, you held it and allowed your lungs to adjust. It was an action you often did to help you think and calm down. As your oxygen levels decreased your heartbeat would slow and as it did, there was always one particular beat where you figured it all out. It usually came right in the nick of time.

So you allowed your heartbeat to slow and though you should have panicked you didn’t. You thought clearer than you’d ever thought before.

“I know what he tells me and what he doesn’t tell me, and I know what you don’t tell him.”

Miles’ words came back to you again and it was then you gasped filling your lungs with air. After a few breaths, you stood then turned to the doors. It worked all the time. With your head high and back straight you walked toward them then climbed inside Lewis’ car. Without a word, he pulled off then turned back onto the streets.

~~~~~~

Thirty minutes later you walked into a penthouse suite right behind Lewis.

“Why here?”

“Thought neutral ground would make you more comfortable.”

You scoffed and beelined right to the bar, tossing his suit jacket over the back of one of the bar stools. As you mixed yourself a drink you tried not to focus on him, but you did. No matter where he went you knew. You were hypersensitive to him at this point. You’d only meant to make a glass but ended up making a whole shaker cup. You kicked off your heels, climbed onto the bar stool then plopped yourself on the countertop. Once comfortable you crossed your legs and sipped your drink.

“Where’s Darius?”

“Not here obviously.”

“You and I are so alike it’s insane,” he said as he approached you, but he didn’t come close. He stopped at the sectional couches in the middle of the large living area and then sat.

The silence in the room was thick for such a long time you began thinking about leaving altogether.

“Congratulations again. I’m so fucking proud of you. You saw something you wanted and didn’t stop until you got it. You deserve this.”

Your stomach flipped hearing his praise. More than anyone he knew what you’d gone through to get here. It touched you. Looking away from him, you cleared your throat. “Thanks.”

His eyes remained on you as if daring you to look back at him. It was a dare you had to accept. Your eyes locked and you instantly felt it. There was so much to say. Just behind him, you saw something familiar. Squinting, you made out the painting you’d been staring at all night, the painting Darius wanted to bid on for you. It clicked then, the reason why Darius couldn’t win it was because Lewis claimed it first. You scoffed, the man was competitive and dominant to a fault. You couldn’t help but be touched by the gesture though.

Lewis sighed bringing your eyes back to him, “I don’t even know where to start,” groaned, rubbed his eyes then spoke again. “Maybe I’m sorry is a good place.”

You studied him for a few moments then took a mouthful of your drink. “For what?”

“You know for what.”

That night.

Those words hung in the air, and you did your best to remain aloof. Scoffing, you shook your head. “It’s all good Lewis.”

“You’re lying and you know it. I thought attorneys believed in the truth.”

“Who are you to tell me what my truth is?!”

You hadn’t meant to shout it, but you did.

“Because more times than not our truths match up and I am sure that what happened was not all good to you because it wasn’t to me.”

“And what exactly wasn’t all good to you?”

“The way we—I left things,” he quietly said.

You waited for him to continue because there was no way in hell you were going to make this easy for him. He wanted to talk so he’d talk. Lewis shook his head then hung it backward. He sat there staring into the ceiling for almost a full minute before he looked back at you.

“I just—flipped when we were—you were—you wanted--,” he stuttered.

You scoffed again, “Don’t flatter yourself, Lewis,” you said slipping into the barstool and spinning it around so your back faced him.

“What?”

“You and I both know that none of that meant anything to you. It’s all good.”

“Now who’s telling who what their truth is?”

You didn’t take the bait, instead, you kept your back to him and finished your glass.

“You forget, I know you, Lewis. 10 years of friendship and I know you so well that it was my own damn fault that night.”

“Whatdaya know?”

After refilling your glass you turned back around then hopped off the stool and walked toward the large floor-to-ceiling window. “I know that that you were with one of your rotation chicks before you came to pick me up. I smelled her on you. That fruity aroma was all her. I know that because of that tidbit of info, none of it meant anything.”

Leaning against the window you stared down at the view of London. Lights glistened down below, and you imagined everyone scurrying to where they had to go so wrapped up in their own thoughts or existence to even suspect that it all was fleeting.

“Okay, I’ll own that bit. Yeah, I was with one of them but that was only after I found out you were on a date.”

“So it’s my fault. I was on a date living my life, so you decided to get your dick wet. Okay.”

You took another sip from your glass not liking the direction of this little talk he wanted to have.

“I never said it was your fault. It’s just a fact. I texted you because I wanted to see you, wanted to spend time with you and you were spending time with someone else, someone you probably did God knows what with hours before you saw me.”

And with that, you were done here. Finishing the glass you turned and walked to the door.

“Good night Lewis.”

He scurried in front of you blocking your path. “Wait, please. Shit! I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Two sorries in the span of twenty minutes, cool. Get out of my way.”

“No, Y/N, please wait.”

You sighed, rubbing your forehead. “I’m sick and tired of waiting. I’ve waited 10 years!”

“You’ve waited? I’ve—.”

Lewis threw his hands up then walked away grunting and talking to himself. He looked insane and it kind of made you pleased seeing it. He always appeared so in control, so aware of himself and his actions at all times. It had all gone to shit now. You stood there debating if you should just leave and let things remain how they were until the day you both just stopped talking and checking in and it ended up going on for another 10 years until you were just people who used to know one another, people who’d missed out on something. It was then you realized you weren’t wearing shoes.

“Shit,” you whispered.

“I wanted you that night. I wanted you more than I had ever wanted anyone, including anyone in the rotation. Do you know what I was doing while you were on your date?”

“Getting your dick wet. I know.”

“I was lying on Julissa’s bed as she gave me head.”

You scoffed, “Of course you were.”

“She’d been going for 40 minutes and still I was barely hard. No matter what she did, no matter the tricks, no matter how nice it felt, barely hard. I was lying on her bed with my dick in her mouth thinking about you on your fucking date.”

You looked at him then. Those were words you hadn’t expected.

“My mind went crazy thinking what was happening. The longer that went by without you texting me the thoughts killed me. As soon as I got your message I left. No other thought, just you. I prayed to God that the date didn’t go well enough for you to let him upstairs. Then I saw what you were wearing, and I couldn’t believe I was jealous. I was jealous.”

“Why?”

Lewis looked at you then. “Because he got to see you like that. You’d dressed up for him, wanted to turn him on with that outfit. He’d spent the entire night with you. He’d had what I wanted.”

Well shit, you thought before walking back to the bar. Rather than making another drink, you took up a bottle of champagne and brought it to your lips.

“Do you know what it feels like to want someone so bad that it fucks with you and everything you do? To want someone more than you’ve wanted anything. To want someone in a way that is new to you, so new that it scares you. Do you know what it feels to have this crippling fear every time that someone is in your grasp, but not being able to resist the temptation, the desire to make them yours? Do you know what it feels like to know that you only burn this bright, this hot, this dangerous with one person, and the burn is all-consuming?”

He looked almost hysterical now. “Do you know what it feels like to want the perfect someone for you? I’m talking molded for you in every way while knowing it’s not the right time for you because you both want too much from the world and because you know that because you burn so hot, so bright that you’ll burn each other if either of you ever let go and let it happen? To know you are so similar that you will either destroy each other or ruin one another for anyone else.”

The look on his face was so damn relatable. He’d just said everything you’d thought over the last 10 years. Everything.

“I know what he tells me and what he doesn’t tell me.”

He was practically ranting now. Spewing every single thing that he’d ever thought, confessing it all.

“So because of all that you try to keep up pretenses that you’re friends and nothing more though you have countless moments where you slip up and stare at them too long, or hold them in your arms from a hug for half a minute too long, or let your hand linger in theirs or around their waist to test boundaries because you just can’t not touch them, or even find reasons to do every single thing together. You take those 2 steps forward not realizing you do because the pull is too strong, then you freak out and leap back 5 steps. You do this for weeks, months, years until 10 of them have passed and you have this huge box you’d filled with all the other stuff between you that you can’t express or fess up to until that box just gets stirred by one action, one moment--one night.”

His eyes were locked on yours. Somehow he’d traveled across the room to the bar and was standing right in front of you. Somehow he’d locked you in the frame of his arms leaving you nowhere to run. Somehow he’d managed to inflate your chest with hope right beside your thundering heart.

“Then suddenly—everything has changed, and nothing can be the same ever again,” he finished, his voice a whisper in the completely silent room.

You watched his eyes lower to your lips and your gut flipped again.

“Do you know what any of that feels like, Y/N?”

There were only mere inches between you now and the sheer proximity of his body to yours made you shiver.

“H—how long—have you—felt this way?”

Your voice quivered in a way that made it obvious to him what his nearness was doing to you.

“10--fucking years,” Lewis replied eyes glued to yours.

He took one step to you, “I’ve spent the last 8 months cleaning my life, cleaning my circle because I’ve gotten to the point where I could no longer ignore that everyone else is number 2 for me. You’re number one, Y/N.”

You were frozen in place, unsure what to say, and even more unsure what to do. He was right, your truths usually did line up and this was no different.

“And I know it scares you, shit it scares me too. All of this does. I know my life is insane and yours is about to be even more so, I get you still have things you want to accomplish; I saw your face when Halsey mentioned adding your name to the plaque. You want it and I want it for you as well as the world for both of us. Our timing can’t be any worse, but something has got to give, love, because I can’t take another year let alone 10 of this.”

You took a deep, ragged breath.

“Where--,” Lewis began before stopping and chewing his top lip.

It was a nervous tick. “Where do I—stand—with you?”

For 10 years he’d been so hard to read, so nearly impossible to gauge, and here right now in the darkness of the room you could see him as clear as day. He was oh so transparent and scared you’d reject him. Scared you’d decide he was more trouble than he was worth. Scared he’d just showed you his heart and ruined your friendship in the process. Without realizing it you were crying; you felt a tear roll down your cheek.

Sniffling, you wiped it away, “Ehm, I broke up with Darius tonight.”

Lewis looked shocked. Clearly, he thought you were still together.

“Why?”

You wiped the other tear that fell from your eye then looked away from him. All of a sudden the room felt smaller than it was, it felt as if the walls were closing in on you. Lewis cupped the back of your head cradling your skull in his palm making you look him in the eyes.

“Why?”

“For the last 8 months, I’ve been hot and cold with him, I pulled him close one minute then the next pushed him away, I disappeared a lot always using work as the excuse. I was busy, yeah, but it wasn’t work. I was always so reluctant to put a label on what we were doing, every time he brought it up I changed the subject never giving him the answer he wanted. Even when we had sex--.”

Lewis took a deep breath, dropped his head, and harshly released it, clearly displeased with confirmation that he’d had you that way, but you continued.

“Even then it was usually always on my terms, and I always wanted him to leave right after. I was—I was always thinking about someone else, something else instead of him, and for 8 months I never felt anything remotely close to what I felt that night with him. over the months every time I saw you it hacked at whatever was going on between me and him until tonight seeing you again it just--.”

You flicked your five fingers indicating an explosion. I’ve become hypersensitive to you, and I don’t know when it happened. It dawned on me that—I was using Darius and it wasn’t fair.”

Lewis searched your eyes not hiding the hurt in his. You took a step towards him. “You’re right about a few things. Our timing couldn’t be any worse.”

He nodded.

“Our truths usually always line up.”

Lewis looked hopeful then.

“Your life is insane.”

The hope faltered.

“I do want my name on that plaque, and I will get it.”

A small smile crooked his lips.

Another tear rolled down your cheek and again you wiped it away, “I can also no longer ignore that everyone else is number 2 for me. Always has been because you’re my number one.”

He clenched his jaw then and the emotion that washed over his face rocked you. Like an earthquake rocking the Earth’s surface.

“I am scared.”

As this tear rolled, Lewis was the one to reach out and gently wipe it with the pad of his thumb. Your lip quivered.

“I’m so scared.”

Lewis pushed forward then, crashing his lips to yours in one swift move. Once your lips met neither of you went slow. The kiss was frenzied from the beginning, both of you wanting it all and not wanting to waste any more time taking it. As his tongue rolled with yours you closed the space between you pressing your body against him. Lewis softly moaned, wrapping his arms around you. When you bit down on his bottom lip he groaned then walked you backward until your back collided with the edge of the bar. Trapping you there once again, he kissed you without holding a thing back and your body responded to him instantaneously.

In a matter of seconds, you both were moaning against each other and completely wrapped up in the new feelings that were consuming you. Lewis cupped your face as he kissed you then ran his hands down to your neck. You couldn’t deny that this felt even better than you imagined. Moaning, you clutched his waist but when that didn’t suffice, you slowly slid your hands up along his toned abs, over his chest taking in the bulge of muscle there. When you wrapped them around his neck, Lewis pressed more persistently against you.

“Mmmm!”

Lewis tore his lips from you and put his forehead to yours. “Fuck, I don’t want to get too carried away. I’m sorry I should have asked first.”

“Consent fucking given,” you said before you crashed your lips to his.

This time you took control. Swirling your tongue with his you didn’t give him time to react or gain the upper hand. You wanted to taste him, and you refused to wait any longer. Teasing his lips, you nibbled his bottom one, taking your time to sensually suck on it until he moaned against you. The vibration shot through you making you feel like you’d only now just begun to truly feel. Lewis’ hands roughly gripped your hips, holding you steady so you could feel that you weren’t the only one finally feeling for the first time.

Heightening both if your pleasure, you sucked his tongue until he groaned. The next thing you knew Lewis’ had you by the hips lifting you onto the bar top. You wrapped your thighs around him and nearly came when you felt his hands pry your legs apart. The heat radiating off of his hand on your bare thigh reminded you of the night in his car and you prayed he didn’t stop again.

As if reading your mind, Lewis met your eyes while he slid his hand higher and higher and higher until his fingers crawled to your inner thigh. Softly he raked his manicured nails against your skin forcing a whimper from you. You bit down on your bottom lip and silently willed yourself not to cum from the anticipation. Suddenly the back of Lewis’ fingers brushed against your sex. Your gasp was loud, breathy, and stretched out as he took his time moving centimeter by centimeter until he’d trapped your clit between his pointer and middle finger. Your jaw dropped all the while he held your gaze.

When he tightened his fingers and rubbed against you, your eyes rolled to the back of your head. You knew then he was dangerous, and you were going to cum.

“F—ha—fu-huck!”

Your back arched, head fell back as your body moved like it were possessed. Each spasm of pleasure had you bucking against his fingers until you could hardly breathe.

“My god you’re so fucking beautiful when you cum, love.”

You giggled and moaned as the tremors worked their way through you. “Mmm, orgasms and compliments, a girl could get used to this,” you cooed.

“Good. This is your future.”

Lewis moved his hand, brought them to your thighs then lifted them. As he planted your heels at the edge of the bar, you knew what he wanted. Your eyes dropped to his lips then you moaned. Pulling your dress away from your legs you allowed them to fall back to the bar showing him not only gymnasts were flexible.

“Oh fuck,” Lewis groaned.

You watched his eyes drop to your sex and the look on his face was unlike any you’d ever seen. No one had looked at you like this before. He stared where your thighs met like it was the most mesmerizing thing he’d ever seen, the first of its kind and something he wanted to completely destroy. You now felt like prey spread before him like this, like at any moment he was going to pounce on you.

“Mmm.”

Lewis came closer and closer until he rested on his elbows and was just inches from your sex. The anticipation was killing, and he had to know it.

“I knew you were a lacy knickers kind of woman,” he muttered.

“I take it you’re a lacy knickers kind of man.”

“On you, fuck yes.”

With that, Lewis hooked his thumbs in your underwear and pulled them to the side. He blew out a breath in reaction to seeing you bare for the first time and that breath fucked you up all over again. You threw your head back trying to calm your anxieties, but just when you met his eyes again you found his tongue out sliding against your wet folds.

Oh—my—goooood!”

Lewis moaned and did it again and again until he circled your clit with the tip of his tongue. “Mmmm.”

Lewis pressed your thighs back keeping them spread then went to town. If you’d ever doubted before that his mouth game was incredible you didn’t now. He licked, flicked, and sucked along your flesh making your back remain in a prolonged arch. Within seconds you were whining and writhing as his tongue worked literal fucking magic. The sound of Lewis’ slurping echoed in the living room and that was when your hands grabbed his head. Pulling his hair free you held on and bucked against his mouth.

“Mmm.”

He stuck his tongue out and let you take over. With every buck against his tongue, you called his name and the more the tip of his tongue flicked your clit the more out of control you felt. Your release was so close your body moved more wildly needing it at all costs.

“I’m gonna cum Lewis.”

“Cum for me, Y/N!”

You didn’t need to be told more than once and when you were right on the precipice you felt Lewis slid two digits inside of you. Just like that, your orgasm morphed from a toe-curling release to soul snatching one. You screeched as your body convulsed but he didn’t stop then, he pumped his fingers in and out of you then added a third finger stretching you wide.

“Uuuugh fuck!”

You barely finished your words before Lewis threw you over his shoulder, keeping his fingers inside of you. As he walked through the suite his fingers kept fucking you, readying you for him. When your back met the soft sheets of the mattress, Lewis still hadn’t broken contact. He watched you now as you lay there unable to control your body.

“You’re so beautiful.”

Pulling his fingers free he cleaned two of them off before you sprang to your knees to claim the third. As you sucked his finger you kept your eyes on his. You could see how badly he wanted you, how much he wanted from you, and you couldn’t believe he’d held back all this time. You took your time sliding each button through its slot until his shit was wide open. When you pushed it off of him you took in a sight you’d seen plenty of times only now it was different.

You brought your hands to feel across his torso marveling at each defined ab muscle and each tattoo. When you intentionally rubbed against his beaded nipple you noted the way his Adam’s apple bobbed. How had you never noticed your effect on him? How had you never taken it seriously? Bringing your hands back to his waist you undid his pants. You brushed your palm against the protruding mass straining against his pants which made him shiver as he grunted.

“Oops.”

Lewis scoffed then licked his lips and that was all it took for him to claim back some of the control you possessed over this exchange.

“Of course, you’re a fucking tease.”

You innocently smiled. “I haven’t even begun to tease you.”

“I bet.”

Lewis snuck forward kissing you one peck at a time, over and over.

“Mm, can you take it?”

“Any other night my answer would be yes, hell in an hour my answer will be yes but right now--.”

He cupped your sex with on hand and the back of your neck with the other.

“Mmm.”

“Right now, I have no control left. I’ve remained in control around you for 10 years and right now I just want to let it all go. I want to bury myself so deep inside of you there is no mistake that we belong to each other bad timing or not. It’s you and me, Y/N.”

You groaned as his words only increased the wetness between your legs. You kissed him again, then you turned your back to him and swayed your body against him. Lewis dropped a kiss to your shoulder as his hand crept around to cup the underside of your breast. You leaned forward getting on all fours with your ass poking out to him.

“Undo me?”

He didn’t move for a few moments, and you waited for him to enjoy the view. When you felt his hand rub against your ass you dipped your back lower which only made your ass poke out more. Lewis trailed his hand along your spine that the backless gown proudly showed off. Then he went to your tailbone and lowered the zipper of the dress. Peeping over your shoulder, your eyes locked as you allowed the dress to fall away from your body.

His groan was low—primal. It was all you needed to hear to know he liked the strappy number you wore that was made of fine lace. You expected him to take his time but instead, you felt him peel off the garment leaving you completely naked before him for the first time ever.

“You’re so wet for me, Y/N. So wet and so fucking perfect.”

You spread your legs further then stretched your arms over your head using your head to hold you up. As expected, Lewis flipped you onto your back making you giggle. You roamed your hands over your body, cupping your breasts then sliding them down your abdomen to your dripping core. The entire time, Lewis kept his eyes on every move you made while he pulled his pants and underwear off.

When he stood bare before you, your surprise could not be masked. You didn’t know what you’d expected in your late-night thoughts about what he was packing but you had no way of expecting this. Lewis gripped his length then slowly stroked it as he pressed a knee onto the mattress.

“Scared?”

You bit your bottom lip as you gawked at what the good lord blessed him with. It was unfair and completely intimidating.

“Now I see why everyone in the rotation was so happy being one of many.”

He snorted, bringing his other knee to the mattress between. Slowly he stalked closer like a predator with a deadly weapon in hand.

“There is no rotation anymore.”

“Oh yeah. The LH44 Harem has been disbanded?”

As he crept closer, you slid backward.

“You’re not funny.”

“So am I the first to usher in a new era—a new harem?”

Lewis grabbed your ankle then pulled you back to him making the backs of your thighs slam into the fronts of his. He then hovered over you before dropping an opened mouth kiss on your nipple. Sucking the peak into his mouth he sucked raising your back off of the bed.

“You’re in no harem. I told you, it’s you—and me,” he said nibbling your flesh.

Stared at him letting it all sink in. You brought your hand to his bearded cheek and rested it there.

“Are we really doing this? Like—for real?”

Lewis boxed your face in with his muscular arms and stared into your eyes. “I’ve told you where I stand, Y/N. I’ve told you everything that’s in here.”

He took your hand and placed it over the roaring lion etched on his skin keeping his hand over yours.

“It’s time you tell me what’s in here,” he finished placing his other hand over your left breast.

“You,” you whispered.

“I love you, Y/N.”

Before you could react or even respond Lewis thrust forward sending the tip of his hardness inside of you, stealing your breath, and every thought. A breathy gasp filled the air. Slowly he pushed forward, leisurely filling you giving you time to adjust to his size.

“Haaaa.”

Lewis kept his hand over your heart while holding yours over his as he filled you inch by tortuous inch never taking his eyes off yours. Your entire being was on fire like he was pouring molten lava inside of you with every inch he gave you.  

“Oh fu—Lewis,” you panted.

From the way his jaw was clenched, and eyes focused intently on you, you could tell he was feeling everything you were.

“How are you so tight?”

Digging your nails into his chest you tightened your leg around his waist and as if that was his last straw, Lewis flicked his hips forward filling you completely and tearing a scream from both of your lips. Neither of you moved for several moments but with every second that passed by your body blazed. Bucking against him, you slid your hand up to his throat and then gripped it.

“I love you. Fuck me. Now!”

Those words would be your ruin because he did just that without mercy and complete recklessness. Your moans and whimpers melded together rising in decibel and power until the entire room shook with the power of your screams for one another. As he plowed inside of you he didn’t go slow, he followed his basal instincts that were imprinted in his DNA, a need to claim, and dominate.

You’d never felt so out of control in your life. No matter how he fucked you, you couldn’t get enough. No matter how deep he went you wanted him deeper. No matter how he called your name you wanted him to scream it. You wanted every fucking thing he had. You wanted to leave him in shambles. When he flipped you onto your stomach like you weighed nothing, he held your ass in the air and fucked you so thoroughly you’d lost track of how many times you came. It didn’t matter because you wanted more.

He must have been able to read your mind because there was no way he could tell what you needed this soon, you thought to yourself as he grabbed your wrists and pulled you back, so he had your upper body hovering above the mattress.

“Oh my god, I’m cumming Lewis! Ooh shiiiiiit!”

He took advantage of this new angle and circled his hips as he jackhammered into you, fucking you as you did something you’d never done before—squirted. You screamed from the force of your release, but Lewis didn’t stop, he fucked you through it then torpedoed you into another one that you knew would tear you apart. Racing for it, you slammed yourself back into him relishing the mix of pain and pleasure that only intensified when Lewis bit down on your shoulder.

“You got one more for me, darlin? Cum for me. Soak this dick, pretty girl, drench me so I can fill that pretty pussy up.”

“Aaah!”

You clenched around him as you lost yourself and fell off the cliff and into an endless pit of pleasure. You felt Lewis spasm inside of you before he cursed and shouted his release doing just what he promised. Filling your pretty pussy up.

When the two of you finally collapsed on the bed Lewis held you to him spooning you while still being nestled inside of you. Bit by bit you came back to your body and slowly your body went from violent shakes to subtle tremors and a hazy feeling washed over you. Lewis peppered kisses along your neck and shoulder nipping your skin every now and then.

“Mmm. Oh my god!”

He snorted. “You good?”

“Good? Am I good? Are you—at the risk of swelling your head even more than it already is that was--.”

“Was?”

You searched for the words but couldn’t find the right ones. “It was,” you settled on making him laugh as he held you tighter.

“Naw, I was alright, you—you were,” he said making you snort.

“Shut up.”

“No, I’m being for real for real. It’s a miracle I held on that long, you feel unbelievable, so good, too good. You—are!”

You giggled then moaned, sleepiness creeping up on you.

“Don’t you dare fall asleep, I’m nowhere near done with you.”

His manhood inside of you lurched nudging your g-spot and just like that your eyes snapped wide open.

“Watch yourself, I know your weakness now.”

“You?”

“Nope, this pussy.”

Lewis snorted then flipped you onto your stomach again. This time he straddled you as he slowly pulled out of you only to plunge right back in.

“Mmm.”

“Still so damn tight,” Lewis groaned.

“You’re welcome to try stretching me out.”

Lewis jerked his hips forward delivering a bruising thrust as punishment for your your sassy mouth. It was a thrust that took your breath and made you go cross-eyed.

“Mmm, yes!”

“Oh, aren’t you full of surprises. Pretty girl likes it rough and hard.”

He did it again and again, making you hit the bed each time as you buried your face in the sheet to muffle your screams.

“God yes, Lewis!”

“So fucking alike,” Lewis said before lowering his lips to your ear. “Remember I love you 'cause I’m about to fuck you like I don’t.”

Not waiting for a reply he held your arms to the bed then delivered on his promise. Everyone else was number 2 compared to you being each other’s number 1. Nothing else mattered.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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#lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton fanfiction #lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton x reader #everyone else is no.2 one shot #black fanfiction

[kaylor]

she's right about the 'the more you create the less pressure you put on yourself' but this sort of freaks me out because that means we might get future midnights where things don't feel polished or even finished. like i love she's creating more and feels more free in that department but sometimes she should keep some songs to herself, like yeah record them and stuff for funsies! but to put them all together in an album? and then release a deluxe version with 6/8 more songs that don't really add much value or add anything to the narrative of an already quite wonky and shallow album? yiiiiiiiiiiiikes. also, i get that she's trying for people to have empathy towards her and i get that everything got to a point where she has to be extremely straightforward with how she feels cause some of her stupid fans aren't even capable of doing that but also... i would never trust someone who repeatedly said they don't go to therapy and their only therapy is songwriting like girl... be fucking serious.

oh no absolutely like just creating to hone your craft is completely fine, like the more you practice at anything the better you get. 3 fails in 10 reps is way more uncomfortable than 12 fails in 100 reps. and y'know fair play to her if she *wants* to release everything she writes as some sort of exercise in resilience for when she gets poor feedback, but she's not even getting that anymore! midnights broke sales records lmao

i just feel like she's not got anyone around her to tell her hey maybe don't release that one before you've tidied it up a little. or like release some EPs with your fav demos or something. you don't need to shoehorn songs onto a concept album because you liked the idea of a concept album. like where was the peer review. this isn't even a recent thing, i'll never forget the miss americana scene where she tells the boardroom that lover was going to have like 17 tracks and was met with Dead Silence and she was like please clap. (also. sidenote. not the most encouraging work environment. but i don't know enough about the music business to know if that's normal. anyway moving on)

back to the point. like hell yeah girl create to your heart's content but also uh. release good albums. and take breaks.

[radiant-reid]

(In your ocean) Swim

A/n: this started off as a single smut fic based on the song Swim by Chase Atlantic. But, I had some fantastic requests and I'm a sucker for friends with benefits.

Summary: The time until Frenemies with Benefits eventually fall in love is always a ticking time bomb

can you do something with cocky/confident reid and he’s friends w benefits w reader and they slowly fall in love + confess? maybe with some angst thrown in if you’re feeling it but I love the idea of spencer messing with you and pushing your buttons even if the both of them are secretly flustered What if reader and spencer were doing it and one of the team members call, then reader makes Spencer answer the phone and he tries his best not to moan.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (Smut 18+)

Content Warning: Oral (m and f receiving ) | Fingering | Unprotected penetrative sex | praise kink | degrading kink | slight choking kink | orgasm denial | handcuffs | Swearing

Word Count: 9.1k of pure filth

Masterlist

The very first time it happened was when they were in Colorado. The unsub- likely a trucker they'd profiled- seemed to enjoy dropping bodies along route 70. All focused around Denver, which is why the BAU got called in. That and the increasing frequency of the murders. It was clear he was devolving and quickly.

'"They'd found another body in Aspen." The local police officer informed Hotch, Spencer, and Y/n when she walked into the boardroom.

The three members of the team were working on a geographical profile. They knew that would shrink a list of potential suspects down based on the home base of the unsub.

Hearing the news, Spencer looked at the map spread across the table. He used a finger to draw over the route lines on the map. Those perfect long, slender fingers were responsible for her dirty thoughts. Only made better by his rolled-up sleeves. It was September, only 72°, and she couldn't help but think he was doing it on purpose, to tease her.

"That's 41 miles off route 70," Spencer mumbled, unsure of if it even was the same unsub. The number of highway serial killers was ever-increasing.

"41.3, actually." Y/n corrected him, a smirk playing at her lips as she locked eyes with him. Even humorless Hotch huffed out a chuckle, knowing their rivalry antics.

Spencer turned to look at Hotch, his hands still pressed against the table as he leaned over it. On purpose, he ignored her comment. "Can we even be sure it's the same unsub?"

Hotch could definitely see the problem with assuming it was. "We know he's devolving, maybe even trying to throw us off." He figured. "I don't want to risk not going and overlooking a piece of crucial evidence." Y/n nodded at that. She knew they were still missing something in the profile, and it had started costing lives. "Plus, it's not a good look for our team if we don't follow up on every lead." It was clear he'd made up his mind when he looked between the two younger agents. "Take the jet, both of you, and stay there the night. Interview the friends and family tomorrow. They might be able to help us out." He decided.

It was close to fate. Especially since Y/n's initial assignment was to go to the medical examiner.

Thanks to the universe, or maybe not thankfully as he was her nice-to-look-at-rival, she was sitting across from Spencer Reid, headed towards the ski destination.

"You know." Spencer's voice stopped Y/n's eyes from moving across the page of her book, breaking up the silence that had formed over the jet. With a coffee in hand, he sat across the table from her, observing her tucked-up posture. Legs pulled into her chest comfortably while she read. "Just because you have a cover doesn't mean I don't know you're reading a steamy novel."

Y/n couldn't tell if he was bluffing on it, but she called him on it. "'m not."

"Liar." He accused, taking a sip of his beverage. "You blush when you do and flex your toes."

There was no way he could know that if he weren't watching her. "And you've never read a sex scene, Doctor Reid?" She questioned, eyes scanning him for any reaction.

Confident, Spencer just shrugged. "Definitely not saying that."

There was no way she could not be intrigued when his tone was so enticingly flirtatious. It was a tone he more often than not used with her.

She adjusted how she was sitting, crossing her legs and placing her feet on the floor. The book was long forgotten on the table. "So, what are you saying?"

"That I'd like to know what's intriguing you so much your, clearly sexual, novel." Spencer requested, voice a little lower than usual as he leaned forward, holding his coffee in front of him, exactly where she could see his fingers.

Her breath in was shaky, and she hoped he didn't notice. It wasn't fair that he could make her squirm so much just by implying sex, and she was determined to flip the switch. "Just this scene where the guy is fucking her on his balcony where anyone could see." She tried to keep her tone as level as possible while keeping it surly.

Spencer didn't even flinch. "I didn't peg you as an exhibitionist." There was no chance he didn't know what he was doing, tapping his left finger against the coffee cup.

"And what did you peg me as being aroused by?" Y/n asked, finding it much more of a struggle to keep her heart rate under control.

Spencer paused for a minute, both, to think and draw a reaction out of her. He loved the effect he was obviously having on her. "Getting choked, getting praised, and multiple orgasms, I'm talking so many that you're sobbing."

She swore she could feel her heart skipping a beat, the heat rising to her chest as she tried not to clench her thighs together. It was definitely inappropriate to be thinking about a colleague in the way she was.

The look on her face lacked a filter, so Spencer kept pushing. "I'm betting you like getting fingered too."

Was she really that obvious? By the smirk on his face, yes. Collecting her thoughts as best she could, Y/n replied. "I'll give you 87.5%."

"Okay, do me." Spencer requested, making sure she caught the double meaning.

Now it was her turn to turn up the heat. She didn't know when, but the jet was suddenly hotter than ever. "Choking your partner, tying them up, not letting them come..." All things she was imagining Spencer doing to her. "Oh, and being in charge, of course."

She cast her gaze back to the table when he didn't reply, only to have two of his long fingers under her chin, forcing her to look back up at him. Their full-blown pupils fixed on each other. The feeling of his cold fingers against her warm skin was addicting.

The thoughts running through her mind at work had never been filthier, and Spencer could definitely tell. "Aren't you good? 100%." He was enjoying toying with her.

There was always sexual tension between Y/n and Spencer. The team felt it whenever they argued. Or if they walked into a room with just the couple in it. But it had never been as tense as it was.

"We're here," Spencer mentioned, drawing Y/n out of her trance. She looked out the window, not bothering to move her chin off his fingers.

He pulled away first, moving his head back and standing up. In a futile attempt to hide the bulge in his pants, he buttoned his blazer, running his open palms over the fabric. Y/n noticed when she stood up, trying to hide a smirk as she collected her things.

"I'm driving!" Y/n declared, all but running out of the jet and down the steps.

Spencer quickly gathered his stuff and raced after her, all while rolling his eyes at her childish antics.

When he caught up with her, she was sitting in the driver's seat. "Come on, slowpoke." She teased with her window down. At least like that, there was a little more distance between the two of them.

Unsure of how she did it so quickly, Spencer put his go-bag in the back seat and got in the passenger's side. "Why do you get to drive?" He complained, crossing his arms like a petulant child.

"Because you are literally a horrible driver." She informed him, throwing him a side glance as she put the car in drive.

"I'm not." Spencer defended, establishing a rebuttal. "Don't think JJ didn't tell me about that one time you were trying to park but scratched the side of a police car."

Y/n's mouth dropped open in shock, appalled by JJ's lack of confidentiality. "She told me she wouldn't say anything!"

"If it helps, she was really drunk." Spencer offered, smirking at what he considered to be a win.

"It absolutely does not." Y/n retorted, the words stopping when she turned a corner, met with the sight of the ski village. "Wow, it's stunning."

Pine trees lined the side of the road, all deep green in color, but Y/n could imagine what they'd look like in the winter, covered in snow. It was picturesque and clear why people vacationed there. The trees that weren't evergreen had just started to change color and lose their leaves.

Spencer's eyes lingered on her for a second before looking at the scenery. "Yeah, it is." He'd never been one for the wilderness, but even the air was much fresher.

"What's the address of the place?" Y/n asked after a moment of silence had fallen. Garcia had texted the hotel's name to them, but she couldn't check it while she was driving.

Spencer didn't even need to check his phone. "Next left, and it's the third one on the right."

Y/n followed his directions, turning down the road. "Are you sure we're at the right place?" She asked, turning into a hotel that looked far too fancy to be paid for by the government.

"Yeah, apparently, there aren't many bad hotels here," Spencer mentioned, getting out of the car once she'd parked it. Y/n shrugged, not about to complain as she followed him.

Bright lights lit up the lobby, a contrast to the darkening sky. The roof was made of dark wooden beams, with shiny tiles lining the floor. And there wasn't anyone else there.

They made their way over to the front desk employee, who looked a little bored. Y/n showed her her badge. "Agent L/n."

Spencer followed suit, taking his out. "Doctor Reid."

She, Gemma, nodded, activating the keycards to their room. Y/n figured it was a good time to ask some questions. "Is it usually this quiet?"

"In the summer, yes. Once the snow sets in, this whole place is packed." She replied, handing over the keycards. "There are only seven other rooms occupied tonight."

Spencer, who had been observing the lobby, had another question. "Is it usual for maintenance to happen at this time of the year?"

"Yeah, it's also when local places get things brought in for the winter, like ski gear, because the roads are easier to drive at this time of year," Gemma explained detailedly, unknowingly making the BAU agents speculate.

"So there are still some outer towners here?" Y/n asked, looking to Spencer to confirm they were on the same page.

Gemma nodded before she frowned. "This is about the girl whose body they found, isn't it?" Y/n replied with a nod. "A truck driver would blend in at this time of the year, but there's no truck stop here, so they don't stay over. I'm sorry that's not really going to help."

Y/n shook her head, offering the girl, who didn't look much older than 18, some words of reassurance. "No, you've been helpful, thank you." Spencer gave the girl a soft smile, and the two of them made their way to the elevator.

"Should we go to my room and video call the team?" Spencer offered once they stepped into the elevator.

Y/n scanned her keycard, pressing the button to the third floor because she knew he hated doing it. "Why your room?" She questioned.

"I've got the laptop," Spencer replied, moving the bag away from his body to demonstrate his point.

That one was on her for not grabbing it when she ran off the jet. "Fine." She folded, walking out of the elevator. She stopped at her room to put her bag inside the door, then followed Spencer into his.

It was nicer than the rooms they had in Denver. There was a sliding door to the left that she assumed was where the bathroom was. Stepping along the wooden floor of the hallway, Y/n walked into the bedroom. The floor-to-ceiling window drew her attention, looking out at the lights that had just started flickering on. Against one wall, there was a bed and the other, a table and two chairs.

Y/n sat down, and Spencer attempted to set up the laptop, leaning over the table. When he couldn't turn it on, she giggled. "Are you going to help or just laugh?" He asked, tapping the on/off button with more force.

She reached out to grab his hands, moving them off the keyboard and turning it to her. Effortlessly, she turned it on, looking up at him with a smirk. "For a genius, you're terrible at technology." She remarked.

"Sorry that I don't spend all my time tweeting." Spencer retorted, taking the seat next to her and pulling the laptop closer to him.

Y/n rolled her eyes. She tugged the laptop away from him, so it was in the middle of them. "I re-tweet Penelope's tweets."

"Just call them." Spencer finalized, knowing he'd most probably lost that argument.

After relaying their newfound information to Hotch and giving Garcia some more pointers on how to narrow down a list of potential unsubs, Hotch told them to get some sleep, so they could meet the victim's family the next day.

"See you tomorrow," Y/n said, not wanting to spend any additional time in his bedroom with just the two of them.

"Yeah, bye." Spencer waved as she walked out the door.

There was also another place she wanted to be. The spa she'd noticed on a brochure in the lobby, on the ground floor. After putting on a bikini and the hotel dressing gown, she got in the elevator.

Scanning her keycard and opening the door, she looked around the room. It was on the opposite side of the lobby, looking out onto the ski field, littered with lights. The spa was maybe 10 by 7 feet and situated closer to the door than the pool.

She quickly realized that Spencer was already in the spa. "Couldn't get enough of me?" He asked with a smirk, swimming up to the side of the hot tub.

"Hm, sure." Y/n sarcastically answered, thankful she'd picked a bikini that she knew looked good on her. Plus, who could resist something so small and red?

Y/n could tell he was watching her when she turned around, putting her things down on a lounge chair before opening her robe. She dropped it on the floor, spinning around to walk to the edge of the spa.

Just as she'd hoped, Spencer was gawking, trying to pretend he wasn't, and doing an inadequate job. "You feeling okay, Reid?" She joked, noticing the blush on his cheeks and not just because of the 100°F water.

Spencer gulped while nodding, moving aside so she could get in the tub with him. "I always thought green was your color, but I think red might be." He declared, sitting across the spa from her.

"Maybe it's just because my tits are out?" Y/n offered, leaning forward to ensure he had a good look.

Spencer shrugged, tracing his tongue over his bottom lip. "I'm not trying to be creepy." He swore.

Y/n decided enough time had passed that she could be bold. "I don't mind you staring." She smirked.

"Oh?" Spencer asked voice higher pitched as he shuffled on his seat. Seeing him squirm amused her.

"You must be a terrible profiler to have not picked up on that." She joked, slightly parting her legs.

Once he registered the seriousness of her voice, Spencer moved forward. Smirking, Y/n turned around just to wind him up. Before she could get a breath in, his hand was on her throat, body pressed up against her back.

With his pointer finger on her pulse, he could feel the quickening of it. "So I was right about the choking." His voice was right in her ear, low and enough to make her breathing shaky.

Even though he couldn't see it, she smirked, grinding her ass against his hips. "Seems like I was too."

"Can I try out my last guess?" Spencer asked, moving the fingers that weren't holding her neck down the middle of her chest.

"You can do a whole lot more than that." Y/n dared him. "But, right here?" She asked, eyes flicking up towards the windows lining the building.

It hadn't actually occurred to him, but he had an answer. "I could just pull these." His hands moved to the ties on her hips, keeping her bikini bottoms up. "To the side."

"You're going to fuck me here? What if someone sees?" Y/n quickly asked, not opposed to the idea in theory. In practice, there was more to think about. "Or there are cameras?"

Spencer hummed, holding her waist and pulling her close to his body. "No cameras." He assured her. "Thought that turned you on, Miss Exhibition Kink."

It did, more than anything, and she could feel the wetness between her legs wasn't just due to the spa. "Why don't you find out for yourself?" She asked.

So Spencer did, moving her bikini bottoms to the side and trailing a finger through her slit. She tensed as soon as he placed his thumb on her clit. "Mmhmm, so responsive." He grinned, releasing his grip on her throat.

Y/n spun around, wrapping her legs around his waist. Spencer turned them around, so he was sitting on the seat underwater. Y/n, sitting on his lap, was boosted much higher. He attached his lips to her neck, placing sloppy kisses all the way down her chest. Even her exposed skin, which should have been cold from the night temperature, was burning hot.

"Fuck, Reid." She moaned out, hands moving up to grip his hair. He took his lips off her skin, one hand holding her waist while the other pulled at the tie of the straps securing her bottoms.

Frantically, Y/n moved her hand to his swim shorts, trying to wiggle them down his hips. Spencer lifted her up for a moment, tugging them down.

"Need some warming up?" Spencer offered, one hand wrapping around her thigh. Y/n nodded, not having expected him to be that big. Holding her thigh, thumb stroking over her inner thigh with one hand, he let the other hand move right to where she wanted it. He slipped one finger inside, almost groaning at how tight she was.

Y/n's breathing was already shortening at just feeling his finger inside of her. The fingers she'd fantasized about for more than long enough. "M-more, please." She begged, causing him to slip another finger into her.

Spencer took them out before she could get too close. "Ready?" He asked, mischievous eyes on hers.

Y/n didn't hesitate to sink down onto him, letting out a moan before she was even half full. She threw her head back once their hips met, feeling entirely filled.

"So big, R-Reid." She moaned out, unable to stop herself from complimenting him.

He wasn't sure whether that was true or if her walls were just perfectly squeezing his length. "Why didn't we do this sooner?" He asked as a half-chuckle, half-groan left his lips.

Holding Spencer's shoulders for support, with his on her hips, Y/n started to bounce up and down on his length, moaning each time she sunk fully down.

There wasn't a single thought in her head as she continued to ride him. Spencer could feel her tightening around him, the heat almost matching the spa's temperature. His thumb moved to circle her clit, only making her clench tighter around him, the waves of her orgasm rushing over her.

As soon as she came, her head dropped down to his shoulder, Spencer moving her hips up and down two more times before coming inside her, throwing her head back.

They stayed together for a few moments, both trying to regulate their breathing. Gently, Spencer lifted up her hips, sliding himself out and pulling his shorts up. Spreading his thighs, he grabbed the strings of her bottoms, tieing them around her hips.

Spencer used the side of his pinky finger to brush a strand of hair out of her face. "You okay?" He cautiously asked.

Y/n couldn't nod fast enough, moving off his lap. "Good. Really good."

"So... this leaves us where?" Spencer asked, having to know. His mind was far too clouded with lust to think about the consequences of his actions, but sleeping with a co-worker was definitely crossing a line.

"Friends with benefits?" Y/n suggested, hoping she wouldn't have to shoot him down while his cum was still inside her.

Spencer frowned, his features clear with the spa lightening. "Would we not have to be friends for that to work?" He asked, raising his eyebrows.

Y/n rolled her eyes. "As long as I don't have to date you, I'm fine with whatever."

"Ouch." Spencer joked, placing a hand over his heart before changing his tone. "But, yeah, we should definitely fuck."

She chuckled at that. "And probably not tell anyone." She added, cautious about how the team would react. "And I don't think we should kiss." That was sure to keep them away from the comfortability that came with relationships.

"Sure." Spencer agreed, extending a hand to shake hers.

Y/n raised her eyebrows. "Thought you didn't do handshakes?" She countered.

Spencer leaned in closer to her ear, his hot breath making her skin tingle. "My cum is literally inside you." He pulled away as soon as he'd said it, but her skin was still red hot.

Moving to get out of the hot tub, Y/n tapped his cheek. "And thanks to that, I now have to go and pee."

"Don't pretend you didn't like it!" Spencer shot back, shamelessly watching her wrap the robe around herself.

Instead of replying, Y/n flipped him her middle finger before walking out the door. Even in the cold hall, the heat in her skin left her feeling warm. She couldn't help the smile spreading across her face. It might have been the first conflict between them that they'd both won.

If there were any concerns about whether or not it would be awkward the next day, they were quickly resolved.

"Nice of you to finally join me," Spencer complained, already sitting in the driver's side of the SUV. It was two minutes past 8 o'clock, the time they agreed to meet.

"Nice of you to get me coffee," Y/n replied, looking down at the cup in his hand.

In reply, he rolled his eyes, focusing them on driving. Silently, they both recognized that if they were still bickering, it meant nothing had changed.

After the interviews and a visit to the M.E, they were back on the brief jet trip to Denver.

Y/n slipped into the seat next to Spencer, taking the book out of his hands and mischievously smiling up at him. "You know what I've always wanted to do?" She asked.

"There better be a good reason for you taking that book out of my hands." He warned, narrowing his eyes at her. "I'm guessing." He paused to place a hand on her spread thighs. "It's because you want me to fuck you." Guilty, she nodded, moving her hand down to unbutton his pants. Spencer quickly stopped her. "Uh uh, you're going to have to beg."

Where she would have usually rolled her eyes, Y/n could tell that would get her in trouble, and she had been aching for him all day. "Please, fuck me, sir." She tested out the nickname, theorizing it would get him turned on.

"Yeah, okay, get up." Spencer agreed, his tone as frantic as Y/n was feeling.

Y/n complied, getting up before Spencer did the same thing. He bent her over the table, not wasting a second, knowing they didn't have very long. With one elbow keeping her steady, she unbuttoned her pants with the other. Spencer helped her out by tugging them and her underwear down her legs.

Her gaze was fixed on the view out the window, but all her attention was focused on the clicking of Spencer's belt as he took it off, then came the sound of his gun against the ground. She moaned when he slipped the head of his dick between her pussy lips, collecting the wetness between her thighs. To avoid letting out a scream when he tapped against her clit, she clamped a hand over her mouth.

Spencer slipped the head in, leaning down to whisper in her ear. "Fuck, you're still so tight after last night."

Turning her head to the side with his dick fully inside of her, Y/n replied. "Maybe you didn't do a good enough job."

"You're going to wish you never said that," Spencer warned, pulling entirely out of her before slamming back in. It was an addicting feeling, and she was thankful the pilots were locked in the soundproof cockpit because the sound of their skin slapping together was loud.

"Fuck, sir, faster, please." Y/n pleaded, her words coming out as a desperate whine.

Spencer obliged, lapping up her moans as he focused on pounding his hips into hers. Before either of them could get close, his phone started ringing. He stilled inside her as Y/n reached out to grab his phone.

Of course, Hotch would call them in the middle of having sex.

Cheekily smiling, she handed it to Spencer, offering him a challenge. "Up for a challenge?"

Spencer took the phone, his answer contradicting the frown on her face. "Sure."

"Answer it, and don't stop fucking me." She dared him.

Spencer scoffed. "That's going to be so much harder for you, sweetheart." He condescendingly cooed. Pulling out of her, he simultaneously answered the call.

"Hi, Hotch," Spencer answered calmly, still managing to keep his thrusts rhythmic. "...Yeah, she's here." Right under him, getting pounded into the table they all sat around. Determined to make it difficult for him, Y/n clenched. "...Oh-okay." It sounded like it worked. Spencer was having a hard time focusing on Hotch's words. "...We're, uh, oh, 25 minutes away..." That was definitely closer to a moan. "I-I'm good, just, um, turbulence." He quickly thought up an excuse, and Y/n couldn't help but feel pride she'd made him think so unclearly. "Okay, bye." He hung up the phone as fast as he could, throwing it onto the couch and holding both of Y/n's hips again.

He gave her a few sharp thrusts as punishment. "So composed." Y/n joked, shaking his head. "Um, turbulence." She mocked.

"Don't think I won't leave you without getting to cum if you keep that up." Spencer cautioned, moving a thumb to stroke her clit and leaving her wordless.

Between his dick hitting all the right places inside her, and how sensitive his playing with her clit was, she was falling over the edge in no time at all. Spencer thrust in and out a couple more times, feeling how much tighter she'd gotten before coming inside her.

To test a theory, he leaned forward to whisper in her ear. "It's so fucking amazing feeling you pulse around me when you cum." She only clenched more out that, groaning as he pulled out. Spencer was quickly back on his investigation, not even bothering to pull up his pants. "How was I 12.5% wrong?"

Y/n turned around, raising her eyebrows up at him. "Is that what you're thinking about when I let you fuck me? Math?"

"'Let you,'" Spencer repeated, laughing dryly. "You're the one begging me to fuck you over the table we all sit at. Now tell me." He demanded.

"I fucking love being degraded," Y/n answered his original question.

It wasn't a good enough win for Spencer. "I think I just proved you have a praise kink."

"That's why it's 12.5% because, obviously, they are opposites, and you didn't profile one." She corrected him, making Spencer hard again at just her words. He knew he could get behind that one.

Spencer chose to ignore his boner as he pulled his pants up, reaching down to pick up their dropped, thankfully unloaded, guns. It gave him a good look at his cum dripping down her thigh. "Better go fix that before the team gets her and realize how much of a slut you are for me." He mentioned, looking up at her a little cautiously to ensure he hadn't taken it too far.

The shiver that ran through her provided him the guarantee it was more than acceptable. Her words, however, contrasted that. "I think I like having you on your knees in front of me."

Spencer scoffed, standing back up. "Barley on my knees, but I'll make you get on yours."

"Hmm, don't tempt me," Y/n replied with an evil smirk, walking over to the bathroom with shaky legs.

She could easily see the indentations of the table's edge on her lower stomach. When she walked back out, Spencer was trying to fix his hair.

"It smells like sex in here." She mentioned, only noticing it when she walked back into the space.

Spencer huffed out a chuckle. "I wonder why."

Searching through her bag for some makeup, Y/n hit him on the shoulder. "What did Hotch want?" She asked, only just remembering the interrupting phone call.

"Oh, the team caught the unsub. Hotch said they'll meet us at the jet strip." Spencer answered nonchalantly.

"What!?" Y/n demanded, worried it would be obvious what happened between them. Spencer looked far less concerned. "This jet smells like someone just had sex in it."

Spencer rolled his eyes, watching her frantically dig through her bag. "Dramatic." When she reached for his bag, he sat upright. "What are you doing?"

"Don't you have cologne or something I can spray?" Y/n asked, knowing he must have because he always smelt addictingly good. If she knew what brand it was, it would make it a lot harder for her not to buy it to spray around her apartment.

Spencer laughed like it was the funniest thing in the world, and Y/n slapped him on the back of his head. "Ouch." He complained, his lips twisting into a pout.

Y/n dug out his cologne, spraying it around the jet before turning up the air vents. After that, she sat back down and tried to act normal as the plan dipped down.

"You literally have the worst poker face," Spencer informed her, going back to reading his book, dragging his finger down the page. Y/n couldn't help but be captivated by it, knowing where those long fingers could curl into. "Why are you watching my hands?" He asked, looking up at her and catching her in the act.

Y/n tried to act like it wasn't true. "'M not."

"Bad poker face." Spencer reminded her, a shit-eating grin taking over his features.

"Fuck you." Y/n retorted.

Spencer chuckled at the double meaning. "You do get the honor of doing that."

They both felt the jet hit the tarmac, slowing up, but it didn't stop Y/n talking. "So it's an honor to have your cum in me?"

"Absolutely, people would pay millions for my super sperm," Spencer replied, eliciting an 'ew' from Y/n as she screwed up her face. "Plus, I know you love it."

Someone else spoke before Y/n could respond. "What does L/n love?" It was Morgan, walking onto the jet with his bag.

Spencer turned around to reply to him. "Screwing with me." He flashed her a wink no one else could see. Such a fucking tease. "Good job on the unsub, by the way."

"Couldn't have done it without you two partners in crime." Prentiss joked, stepping in after Morgan but catching the conversation. "Maybe partners fighting crime." She corrected herself.

"There's no better partner than the fact-spilling Doctor Reid." Y/n teased, but both of them knew the only thing he was spilling was cum into her.

Their 'tradition,' as it became, happened during almost every case. State after state, whenever Hotch decided it was time to call it a night, they'd mess around. Usually in one of their hotel rooms beds, but occasionally precinct bathrooms, often in the hotel room shower, and a few times in pools. The BAU had sort of speculated something was going on, and there was a constant stream of gossip being fed to Penelope.

It got more and more unmistakable over the five months it went on. With the noticeable tension, the other BAU members felt like they were interrupting a private moment, even if they were at a crime scene. Then there were the fuck-me eyes Y/n was constantly giving Spencer, Spencer's whispers in her ear whenever he was behind her, the smirks, the teasing inside jokes, the time Spencer accidentally tapped on JJ's door, the terrible excuse he gave about mistaking his room number for hers, them playing footsies under every table possibly, Y/n's ability to take Spencer's phone out of his pocket without him flinching, and the telling late-night door closing, footsteps, door opening, and closing again once they'd finished whatever they were doing.

Neither Y/n nor Spencer was concerned about their suspicions turned speculations. They were sticking to the rules as well as Spencer's addendum of not sleeping in the same bed. She would still argue with him and he still punished her for it.

It was only eight months after their rendevous had started that Spencer had enough with her teasing him, one random day in a precinct boardroom in Oregon. First, it was the biting her lip and looking up at him, then resting her hand on his upper thigh, then purposefully sliding the back of her pen past her lips.

"Close that door," Spencer instructed once it was just the two of them. The sharpness of his tone made her quickly follow his instructions, locking the door additionally.

Determined to push his buttons further, Y/n sat on the edge of the table, her knee touching his. "What's wrong, Doctor Reid?" She asked, ignoring the quickening of her pulse as she tried to act like she was in control.

"Where did your attitude come from?" He questioned, holding her jaw between his index and thumb so she couldn't look away from him.

"You're the one being a tease with your sleeves rolled up," Y/n argued, smirking when her eyes shifted down to see the tightening in his pants.

Spencer pulled her chin closer to him. "Get on your knees." He demanded, shifting the atmosphere of the entire room.

Y/n complied, quickly abandoning her attitude. Well practiced, she unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, sliding them down his thighs until they pooled at his converse.

Threading his fingers through her hair, Spencer pulled her closer to his body. She smirked when the head of his length came brushed against her lips. Purposefully not giving him any warning, she took his entire length down her throat, gagging slightly.

"Aw, is it took big for you, baby?" Spencer condescendingly asked as she bobbed her head up and down with his help.

Pulling off, wrapping one hand around the base of his length, Y/n rebutted. "You fucking wish, Reid."

Clearly, that attitude he adored wasn't gone. "Shall we put that mouth to better use?" He rhetorically offered, moving her head by himself.

Y/n obliged, twisting her hand around while taking the rest of his length into her mouth. All while holding perfect eye contact. Although he was trying to remain composed, Spencer was losing it more and more as she continued, reduced to whimpers as he neared his release.

"You ready, princess?" Spencer groaned out. Not being in a position to nod, Y/n winked up at him, and he quickly fell over the edge. "Swallow, all of it." He knew he didn't need to say it, but it never failed to spur Y/n on.

Once she did, she stood back up. "Looking like a whore there, Doctor Reid." She quipped, grinning to herself.

"You're trouble." Spencer narrowed his eyes in a way that never failed to make her wet. Once he pulled up his pants, he grabbed her jaw, gazing dominatingly into her eyes.

Y/n turned around to go back to her work. "Don't act like you don't love it."

In a single movement, his lips were up against the shell of her ear. "I'm about to show you what I love." He placed his head onto her shoulder as Y/n threw hers back.

She could still glance down to watch his fingers. Enticed by the prominent veins and bony knuckles unfastening her pants and pulling them down halfway. Her breath hitched once he pulled her panties to the side, one calloused fingertip tracing around her entrance.

Spencer's voice was still right in her ear, only adding to her dripping arousal. "Who's the whore now?" He teased, making her moan. "I've not even got a finger inside you, and you're making noise."

"Reid, sir, fuck, please." Y/n desperately whined out, needing to feel more. She would have been squirming if Spencer wasn't holding her so tightly against his body.

The desperate whimpers fueled his lust, and he thrust two fingers up into her. She could barely breathe when he curled them inside her. Spencer didn't let her have a moment to rest, thrusting them in and out hurriedly, eliciting a stream of moans out of her lips.

With her hands on the table to steady herself, and Spencer trailing wet kisses down her next, she pleaded out again. "Shit, I-I'm going to cum." The jumbled words more than showed Spencer how close she was, and at the very last second, he tore his fingers away.

It was incomprehensible to Y/n. How the building pleasure could be so quickly ripped away. She took a second to clear her mind before whipping her head around at a smirking Spencer.

"What the fuck was that?" She spat out, furious about not getting her release. Instead of replying, Spencer slipped his fingers, coated in her arousal, past his lips. Further demonstrating her anger, she hit him on the shoulder. "God, you're the worst."

A knock on the door interrupted the lecture Y/n was about to give Spencer, and she completely forgot she locked it, but thankfully she did.

Spencer went to unlock it, leaving Y/n to try and fix her appearance. Hotch frowned at Spencer when he walked in, followed by Prentiss.

The unit chief nodded to the door, which Spencer interpreted as a question. "It might be one of the officers, so we didn't want them to walk in while we were working." He lied, and Hotch believed him.

After that, they were back to working on the case, Y/n much more highly strung. It was late before they caught the unsub, even later when they got back to the hotel.

Spencer had handed Y/n an extra keycard to his room, so, patiently, she waited for him. Of course, he deprived her of any sex, making her wait for ten minutes before he finally entered his own room.

There was the sound of the keycard beeping against the door before he entered. It only took him two steps for his eyes to be on her. They raked over her body for a long second, his lips parting as his eyebrows shot up. "Where are your clothes?" He inquired.

"I'm just speeding things up," Y/n replied, smirking as she sat on the end of his bed, completely nude. "You always walk in here ready to fuck." She joked, gesturing for Spencer to come closer.

He did, shamelessly looking over her body from above. She never knew she could feel so comfortable with someone's gaze solely fixed on her figure. "That's bullshit, and you know it." He commented challengingly. "You're the one jumping me whenever I walk through the door."

"Are you going to shut up and fuck me, or am I going to have to do it myself?" Y/n questioned, rolling her eyes.

Spencer looked like he was seriously debating it. "I would love to watch that, but my hand doesn't feel half as good as your pussy." He decided.

"Aw, Reid, don't go getting so sappy on me." Y/n shoved his shoulder, smirking at him.

Spencer caught her eye, biting his bottom lip. "Do me the honor?" He offered, nodding towards his pants while he moved to pull up his shirt.

Y/n reached out to palm his length through his pants. "Is that a gun in your pants, or are you just happy to see me?" She dryly joked.

Rolling his eyes, Spencer chuckled. "Hmm, both, actually." He quipped, placing his gun on the desk. Before he took his pants off, he reached around for something in his back pocket, something Y/n couldn't see.

"What's in your hands?" Y/n cautiously asked, frowning at him as she leaned back on her elbows.

Spencer revealed his FBI handcuffs, the metal clicking. His eyes held hers, filled with mischief. "Yes? No?"

Dumbly, Y/n nodded, laying down completely and stretching her arms up. Spencer climbed on top of her, resting a knee between hers. He skillfully opened the handcuffs and closed them around her wrist.

Avoiding her lips, Spencer trailed kisses down her body, his thumb stroking over her waist. His lips moved to suck her nipples, tugging slightly and making her moan.

With every kiss, her skin got hotter. The contrast was Spencer's cold fingertips, spreading her apart. His tongue lapped at her wetness in a way that made her squirm on the bed.

Y/n was dying to tangle her hands through his hair. Spencer continued, dipping his tongue inside her before circling her clit. He was good at everything, but giving oral was definitely on the top ten list.

"S-spencer." Y/n moaned out, thrashing on the bed. It only urged him on to add pressure. She could feel herself nearing the edge, and Spencer must have noticed because he started sucking on her clit. She could have sworn she blacked out because her vision completely blurred when she came.

Spencer sat on his knees, throwing his fists victoriously in the air. "Record time." He cheered.

Rolling her eyes, Y/n wriggled her wrists. "Done now?"

"I've got some making up to do," Spencer informed her, shaking his head. Y/n groaned, ready to protest when Spencer slipped his thumb onto her tongue. She couldn't help but suck on it, looking up at him with wide eyes. "Don't make me blindfold you too." He sternly cautioned, and Y/n swirled her tongue around his thumb.

The answer was satisfactory for him, and he leaned back to focus his attention between her thighs. The thumb he had in her mouth moved to draw circles on her clit, his index finger plunging inside her. She was still over-sensitive, a shiver running through her body as he toyed with her.

Spencer didn't let it deter him, only using one finger to play with her. "More, please, more," Y/n begged, thrusting her hips up.

Spencer glared at her, eyes dark as he pinned her hips back down. The whimper she let out was enough to have Spencer adding another finger. The stretch was more than doubly in width, but what made her moan loudly was how far inside her his middle finger reached.

Once again, he had her there in no time, and he knew it too. "You're gonna come, aren't you?" He asked.

"Y-yes," Y/n replied, her words cut off by another moan.

"Can feel you tightening," Spencer mumbled, drawing circles inside her with his fingers. "It's a miracle I can fit inside you."

Besides Y/n's loud moans, all Spencer could hear was the metal clicking and the sound of his fingers pushing in and out of her. There wasn't anything more erotic. It was only bettered by the feeling of Y/n coming on his fingers and the way her eyes lulled back as she squirmed.

Spencer took his fingers out of her with a content sigh, trying to soak in the image of her just after climaxing. He frowned upon seeing the stream of tears down her cheek. "Are you okay?" He asked.

"You're so soft." Y/n rolled her eyes, joking but assuring him it was okay.

"I'm literally not," Spencer replied, looking down and making Y/n's eye line follow. Thrusting her hips forward, she tried to tell him what she wanted. "So much to say until I give you back-to-back orgasms and you're still desperate for another." He was too desperate himself to make her beg. Instead, he pulled her hips closer, slipping inside her wet warmth.

Holding her hip with one hand and using the other to hold his weight, Spencer thrust in and out of Y/n at a quick pace. He couldn't help let out a groan at the feeling of being inside her. It was such an addictive feeling which only got more alluring every time they fucked.

Y/n's eyes completely rolled back as she threw her head back, arching her back up. Complete bliss, the place Spencer always took her to. "Feels so good."

"So fucking good." Spencer agreed, managing to keep his thrusts even through sheer concentration. "You take me so well every time." She couldn't help but feel proud, wrapping her legs around his waist so he could drill deeper into her. Determined to make her cum first, he started circling her clit, leaning down to whisper in her ear. "Come for me, baby." He softly instructed.

With another moan, she did, her lips staying in an o shape. There wasn't anything else in the world that mattered but his hips against hers.

"I love how you just lose control when you come." Spencer praised her, chasing his own release, which was infinitely closer.

Y/n's heart was still thumping, everything in her brain mush. "I love...you." It was so quiet, and she wanted nothing more than for Spencer to not have heard it.

Whether he heard it or not, it forced him over the edge, filling her up with a groan. Gently, he pulled out a reached for the key to unlock her hands before flopping down beside her.

It was a sight Y/n wished she could photograph. The sweat coating his body, the rising and falling of his chest, and the mess of curls that he was running his fingers through.

She could see his brain working backward, replying to see if he caught her words right. "Did you actually just-?"

That was a bridge Y/n was not ready to cross. "No." She cut him off.

Spencer gazed up at the ceiling, thankful she hadn't actually meant it. It was easier that way. Every one of their moments solidified his feelings. Every glance and smile. He absolutely could not help it, even though he felt horrible for it.

The smirk on his face gave Y/n some more reassurance. That he hadn't taken it seriously. "I'm pretty sure that you did." He teased.

"Did not." Y/n huffed, rolling her eyes.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Spencer laughed loudly. Although she couldn't tell, he was only chuckling because of how thankful he was to not be getting shut down. To get to tease her instead to make things messy.

If he found it funny, then she was in the clear. At some point, she'd have to get over her feelings, but at least she wasn't going to ruin their relationship.

Y/n laughed with him before he continued talking. "That's going to be a hilarious story to tell our kids."

That halted the light feeling in her stomach. "Our what now?"

Spencer only laughed harder. "I got you so good." He teased, shaking his head. She found something so beautiful in his laugh.

"Ugh, you're the worst." Y/n rolled her eyes, sitting up so she could go back to her room.

A hand on her thigh stopped her movement. "Stay here." Spencer offered, looking around the empty room. She was definitely the only thing that mattered. "You don't want to have to go up the elevator and down the hall." He attempted to persuade her.

Y/n wanted to tell him no, that it would lead to a spiral in their relationship, but she couldn't. Not when he looked so him. "Sure, but I've got to use your bathroom."

When she came back, Spencer was half-dressed, handing her a physics-themed t-shirt. So casual that she wouldn't have thought someone like Spencer owned it. Wearing his shirt was like his cologne was all over her, and she wanted to take it home.

Y/n lay down first, not wasting any time pulling the blanket over herself. Trying not to make her uncomfortable, Spencer turned off the lights and got under the covers next to her.

Biting her lip, she turned to face him. "We're breaking our rules, Reid."

By the chuckle Spencer gave her, she knew he wasn't taking it seriously. "You're the one in love with me." He joked.

Y/n laughed, tugging the blankets off him. "I'll kick you out of this bed right now if you don't shut up." She warned, attempting to seem serious.

Spencer pouted, trying to get some of the covers back. He wanted to say it. Just once, in case he never got the chance with anyone else. "You know I love you, right?" His tone was as casual as possible, by design.

Y/n caught the displaying emotion, but she wished he was serious. "Yeah, love you too, kid." She replied, trying not to cringe as it came out of her mouth.

There was a shift in their dynamic after that.

Morgan noticed it first in Spencer. When they were on the jet back, and he could barely focus on the card game he so desperately wanted to play. Instead, his gaze was fixed on Y/n sleeping on the couch.

"Okay, you can't take your eyes off her, so tell me what's going on," Morgan demanded, his voice growing much quieter. Thankfully, the two of them had sat at the other end to everyone else.

"What? Who?" Spencer looked back at his friend, trying to play it cool. Morgan rolled his eyes, nodding to Y/n. "Nothing's going on."

Morgan raised his eyebrows, unconvinced. "Don't think we don't all know about your casual hooking up."

Spencer blushed bright red, not looking up from the table. "It's just an... arrangement."

"No, because something's changed." Morgan profiled, able to read it off his face. "I haven't seen you two share a single glance today."

Folding his cards down, Spencer found the urge to defend himself. "Nothing is happening, and nothing has happened."

Unconvinced, Morgan continued. "You care about her, though?"

"I care about her. A lot. That doesn’t mean that I’m in love with her." Spencer tried to find a way around the words with mutual exclusivity.

Morgan rolled his eyes. "You can feel both, and you do." Spencer's silence was an admission. "Talk to her." He urged, and Spencer nodded, not sure if he would.

Y/n had a similar conversation with Prentiss the following Saturday at brunch. In the little cafe with croissants and mimosas.

"So, how's your boyfriend?" Emily asked moments after their food had arrived.

Where it usually felt comfortable, Y/n now felt like she was in a cold interrogation room. "Don't have one." She flatly answered.

"Reid. You know, the guy you've been fucking for months who you're secretly in love with." Emily prompted, smirking at the fact she was annoying her friend.

Y/n shook her head. "Not in love with him. We've just fucked in 21 states." Emily was completely skeptical, raising her eyebrows and prompting her to continue. "I've never even kissed him!" She admitted, adding a clause. "On the lips."

"So you haven't had his tongue down your throat, but you've had other things." Emily bluntly put, making Y/n choke down her drink to avoid spitting it back out.

"You've had too much to drink," Y/n informed her, hoping Emily would drop the subject.

She did.

Until they were farewelling each other. "Go see him," Emily requested.

Y/n could hear it repeating over and over in her head. Three words that had her feet taking her to Spencer's apartment without a second thought.

When she faced the dark green door, Y/n realized that she have no clue what she was going to say. She'd been sinking in the vast ocean of Spencer Reid for far too long. Knocking on the door, she took a deep breath in.

For some reason, she was surprised when Spencer answered. "Hey, are you okay?" He asked, concern flooding his face at Y/n's almost teary eyes.

Shakily, she took a breath. "No, actually, I don't think so."

Spencer's concern only grew with each moment she didn't explain. "Come in, sweetheart." He requested, moving aside so she could step into his apartment.

It occurred to Y/n it might be the last time he ever called her that. Seeing as she was basically there to ruin their relationship. It was the first time she actually noticed any of the décors. She paced in his living room, stepping across the floorboards like every step would make it easier to say.

"I wasn't kidding." Y/n flatly stated, turning to face him but ensuring she didn't meet his eyes. "I'm sorry. I just woke up one morning and realized that I'm in love with you, and I have no idea what to do about it." She continued to try and soften the impact. Her mind was a mess, and all she could do was hope for some clarity. "I know you don't have feelings for me, and I promise I'm not going to make it awkward."

Spencer's hands enveloping hers made Y/n nervously look up at him. "How could I not have feelings for you?" He asked, slightly frowning. "Y/n, I'm so in love with you that sometimes I can't think straight."

"I never think straight around you," Y/n admitted with a chuckle.

Spencer laughed with her, a hand coming to cup Y/n's cheek. When she didn't pull away, he swooped down to gently kiss her. There was no desperation or rush, it was slow and loving. Something neither of them was used to, but it filled them with more warmth than anything else they'd done.

Pulling away, Y/n couldn't help but admire him. She'd seen him so close for so long, but it was all different. Spencer felt the same thing, knowing he had all the time in the world to kiss her like that.

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[skinks]

ok so i'm new to reddie & so this may be wack, BUT... there is a scene i cannot get out of my head where richie finds out eddie can sing---can like, truly, honest-to-god *sing*. idk when/where it happens. maybe the gang's mulling around in someone's basement or something & eddie's idly toying with the keyboard in the corner, & richie plops down on the beanbag in front of him, & thinking absolutely nothing of it, he says, 'Serenade me, Spaghetti.' (part 1)

(part 2) eddie rolls his eyes and switches it on. he tinkers until he finds the Wurlitzer sound. 'Ooooh,' he says, eyes humongous. 'Ooooh?' Richie echoes, curious. Eddie smiles mischievously. Then, in my head, he performs Stevie Wonder's "As" & richie watches in rapt & reverent disbelief & realizes his feelings sharply & suddenly & now desperately needs space to think etc etc. idk if anyone'd want to do something with this. i just wanted to share it tbh lol. hope all is well with u!!

All’s well with me thank you! WAY BETTER NOW because oh WOW HELLO holy shit, you say you’re new to reddie but already I’m obliterated.

I love this, I do like to hc that Eddie is a better singer than Richie, though Richie’s more enthusiastic. Like Eddie probably sings to himself under his breath when he’s alone, but when Richie and the others discover he’s got a set of pipes they encourage him to join in on car ride singalongs.

Fjdhhfhd and poor Richie, he’s just reclining with his hands behind his head when suddenly Eddie’s SINGING and all Richie’s arm hair and the tiny hairs on the back of his neck all stand on end. He’s always trying to get Eddie to join in with him when he’s making up dumbass lyrics to existing songs (Richie wants to be Weird Al), and the first time Eddie does what Richie always does with Eddie’s name, subtituting Richie’s name in some song, like he’s singing it to Richie—well, Richie goes home that day walking on air. Tosses and turns in bed grinning up at the ceiling, because what does it mean, what does it all MEAN

God now I’m getting soft thinking about them as adults, and they’ve been dancing around each other for months. They’re out at some bar on karaoke night with the Losers and Eddie’s been practically vibrating with tension all night, keeps swiping his hand over his mouth. Finally gulps down another shot, clambers over Richie and elbows his way towards the little stage area.

Richie—well, he watches him leave first, obviously, he’s a red-blooded human in love—Richie turns to see all the others looking far too innocent. Especially Bill, who still takes umbrage at being the only one to get drugged in Derry and keeps trying to slip them all something whenever they meet up.

Just imagine him!!! 🥺 Eddie dressed all fancy casual and clenching both fists around the mic as he stares, Richie’s pretty sure, at somewhere around Richie’s collarbones. He clears his throat and seems to deliberate to himself, and then undoes his very topmost button. Someone whistles—someone who isn’t Richie and it’s only Bev grabbing Richie’s arm and Stanley covering Richie’s mouth that stops him from immediately rising to the challenge.

Haha, Eddie says. Thanks. Oh god. Okay.

Richie has propped his chin in his hand and sighed watching Eddie commandeer an entire Manhattan boardroom, the time Eddie forgot to turn off Skype before his meeting, Richie left unobtrusively in the corner. Eddie had been in his element, zapping happily at graphs with his laser pointer. But now he’s reminding Richie of that time in Bill’s garage, Eddie shaking center-stage and two wheezing breaths away from a meltdown.

Then Eddie mumbles something about this being 30 years late, but here goes. His eyes raise from Richie’s collarbones to his face, and he busts out this nervous but SOLID rendition of September by Earth Wind & Fire. The entire place joins in on the ba duda ba dudas, except for Richie. The last time he heard Eddie sing it was 1992, wavering and plunging up and down the cracks of puberty, but still good. Still hair-raising. Eddie points from the hip in their direction and breaks through the noise of the crowd cheering to say, simply, Richie! Like he used to, all those years ago. Two familiar syllables shining in the wheeling rockstar darkness of a famous song, and Richie’s insides twist up with joy just as bad as his restless, lovesick teenage sheets. Because now he knows what it means

[riosnecktattoo]

Okay so now I want your review of 365 days 😂😂😂

Are you sure, baby girl? *heaves* i'm so sorry

I mean SURE! Though I would say I’m aware it’s fully intended as softcore porn so judging it harshly against regular films with actual plots is unfair. Let’s do it anyway.

- This binocular sitch? My guy, this water tower they’re having a meeting on looks like it’s in a Cliffside parking lot? Why would she be there? His Dad saw her so she was there? On the zoom out shot though it’s not a beach it’s razor sharp rocks and she’s not there? Rightly so. Health & Safety. But HUH? THIS WAS NEVER EXPLAINED! Lol at me expecting sense.

- The DRAMA of the Dad dying, having the audacity to try and make me care for this character 2 minutes in? The music and slo-mo said it was the end of Gladiator. Then a pop song starts playing? I was gone.

- The montage of their lives had such WEIRD production. The ADR on the boardroom scenes for actors they didn’t want to pay to speak had me rolling.

- The airborne blowjob. The real plot of this film was ‘how can we avoid showing this man’s penis’ Also the camera moving with the girls bobbing head? wEIRd

- Laura’s boyfriend looked like a 50 year old trucker.

- “Are you lost baby girl?” My blood cells were embarrassed for him

- I genuinely don’t have words for the kidnapping. Firstly why did she go on a night time panicked run through a strange city in swimwear and heels? And a whole year!? What about your job? Friends? Family? No? When she pulled the gun on him I got so hype like god yes shoot him but no.

-  Also should say while he is objectively handsome, the actor does NOTHING for me cause he felt so bland and wooden (hehe) and boring to me so nothing he did felt sexy at all so the film didn’t do it’s only job (for me. I know others think he’s hot as shit and fair!)

- He has a literal chamber of secrets below his castle? LEAD WITH THAT.

- The badly photoshopped picture of her bf fuckin someone else? Tears in my eyes.

- It takes her one day to be like ahhh yes. A year of being a prisoner.

- The shower scene? I think I messaged Lauren literally “What are their motivations!?” because I was still for some reason looking for plot or character. There is none. I am a clown.

- The shower grab NEARLY had me I was like OOOOO and then he ruined it by speaking. (I cannot physically type his catchphrase anymore)

- THE LION PAINTING!? Is he a dictator? Weirdest of flexes.

- He has a nice bum.

- Another blowjob. I am desensitised to this man making a cum face.

- Contender for funniest moment was when he……….whipped two guns out at the club? And the entire club somehow saw and GASPED. I was CRYING.

- ACTUAL FUNNIEST MOMENT: The actors who had clearly been told to get in a disagreement at the head of the yacht but he just keeps saying “where are you going?” while she stands still on the deck? And she’s on a boat pal? SHE AIN’T GOING NO WHERE! And then she fell in and I’ve never laughed so hard and decided that this film works better as a comedy.

- THE YACHT SEQUENCE. WHY DID IT GO ON FOR SO LONG!?!?! THE AERIAL SHOTS HAD ME LAID OUT. Again I found none of that sexy I was laughing and screaming too much.

- THE TANGO!?!?!?! WHYYYYYYYYY! They both just suddenly know a choreographed routine? Sure why not. Then the MURDEROUS ex appears. Wattpad I feel you in the room with me.

- Moody separation time = the worst blonde wig I’ve ever borne witness to.

- My main takeaway is he’d be fun to take shopping and hold your bags. He is pleasingly tall. But we stan for charisma in this house and my guy emotes like wet bread.

- The final scene where homegirl went in to a tunnel and never came out and Old Boy was running to find Massimo? Again very obvious the actor was given no lines but had to somehow get across “Your fiancé is dead lol sorry” so he just…….shrugs a bit?

- BUT MASSIMO GETS IT! We get another unearned Gladiator-esque moment of drama. He’s meant to be in absolute agony right? Love of his life 2 months is dead? Dude looked like he’d stubbed his toe.

Anyway if nothing this film had me crying with laughter and……….that’s not nothing?

#i both wish i hadnt watched it and now want everyone to watch it so they can laugh with me #her falling off the yacht SOMEHOW god fuckin peak comedy #anyway here you go lololololololololol #Asks #Bourbon-ontherocks

[aion-rsa]

What’s Happening With Marvel’s X-Men?

https://ift.tt/eA8V8J

This article contains spoilers for recent Marvel X-Men stories.

A long time ago, back at the beginning of the interminable, endless month of March that the pandemic has trapped us in, Marvel’s X-Men books were barrelling towards their first big post-Dawn of X crossover, X of Swords. And then the world stopped, and plans changed for the X-Men while everything was paused.

Now that we’re back, plans have changed, and books are coming fast and furious. So what’s going on with Marvel’s Merry Mutants? Which book did Storm get sick in? What book should you read for a good Laksa recipe? New Mutants, but we can answer all your other questions on what’s going on with the X-Men below. 

While we won’t rehash the entire thing, House of X/Powers of X reset the entire X-Men line. Mutants can’t die anymore (or rather, if they do, they’re resurrected from clone bodies and emergency backup minds by The Five and Professor X). The X-Men, and all mutants alive, are now living on Krakoa, a living, mutant island in the Pacific that, at some point in the distant past, broke in half, sending one part of it to a dangerous, monster-infested realm with Apocalypse’s first Horsemen standing guard making sure it didn’t return. 

Humans are back to hating and fearing mutants on a wide scale, but this time it’s mostly because the mutants are vehemently anti-capitalism, flooding markets with cheap, life-extending and health-improving drugs and vowing to take down the human world with economic weapons of their own making. This has the humans initiating some pretty intense Sentinel programs, particularly around the sun, where Nimrod – the adaptive Sentinel whose existence dooms mutantkind in one Powers of X future – was very nearly created. 

And amidst all of that, Moira MacTaggert, the secret mutant mastermind with the power of Groundhog Lifeing (when she dies, her consciousness is immediately transported back to her prenatal self to be born again with all her old memories. She’s on life ten now, btw), is frantically trying to manipulate events so that mutants continue to exist in the long run as the next phase in human evolution, averting a future where man-machine hybrids (like Omega Sentinels and the Children of the Vault) develop while humans and mutants are busy fighting among themselves. She’s also not allowing Charles and Magneto to revive any mutants with precognitive powers, expecting them to see her plan and ruin Krakoan civilization.

X-Men

X-Men, by mastermind Jonathan Hickman with art mostly from Leinil Yu, is where big ideas are being seeded for later use.

This is where the story of Krakoa and its estranged, otherdimensional partner Arakko was further developed (following its introduction in Powers of X and setting up X of Swords, the first mutant crossover of the Dawn of X era). X-Men introduced Hordeculture (think the Golden Girls if they were also ecoterrorist botanists); reintroduced the Children of the Vault; showed how depowered mutants get in line to get their powers back; and saw Magneto and Apocalypse threaten humankind with the most terrible weapon of all: finance capitalism.

New Mutants

It also, just prior to the break, X-Men had a spiritual crossover with New Mutants, initially a split book by Hickman and Rod Reis on the space issues, and Ed Brisson, Flaviano, and Marco Failla on the Earth issues. Brisson, Flaviano and Failla’s story follows a group of Earthbound mutant kids (including Glob Herman and Boom Boom) as they track down stragglers to Krakoa, like Beak and Angel.

Hickman and Reis took the original New Mutants plus Chamber and Mondo into space to go pick up Cannonball (who was living on Chandi’lar with his wife, Smasher). On the way there, they stole a King Egg from the Starjammers and brought it back to Earth, where it turns out, we discover in X-Men, the King Egg is a bioweapon created by the Kree to control the Brood for an eventual war with the Shi’ar. Broo, the supersmart mutant Broodling from Wolverine and the X-Men, eats the egg and becomes the Brood King.

Excalibur

Excalibur is the shining star of the line so far. Tini Howard and Marcus To are growing the mythos of mutant magic with a very odd team that includes Betsy Braddock (now back in her original body and the new Captain Britain); Rogue and Gambit; Jubilee and her mysteriously dragonified son Shogo; new earth mage Rictor; and Apocalypse, who is clearly up to some stuff. Apocalypse picks a fight with Otherworld and places a newly resurrected but still batshit Jamie Braddock on the throne of the magical realm.

Excalibur was one of the first books to return from hiatus, and it came back with maybe the best single issue of the entire relaunch in issue #10. I cannot recommend it highly enough.

Marauders

Marauders launched as the story about the Hellfire Trading Company, the corporate arm of Krakoa that distributes the miracle drugs around the world while also smuggling mutants in trouble home to Krakoa. But Gerry Duggan and Matteo Lolli’s book quickly turned into the mystery of Kitty Pryde – why she’s not able to use the Krakoan gates that allow instantaneous travel around the galaxy, and whether she can be resurrected by The Five. That story has just about come to a head, but it is worth noting that it still contains a great deal of Hellfire Trading Company intrigue between Emma Frost and Sebastian Shaw, and a lot of drunken pirate antics. The resurrected original Pyro does get a tattoo of the Marauders skull on his face at one point. It’s fun.

X-Force

X-Force, by Ben Percy and Joshua Cassara, immediately killed Professor X. He was resurrected, of course, but it served as both a notice that everyone is fair game, and alongside Marauders, keeps some slight mystery to character death alive post-The Five’s perpetual resurrection machine. It’s also the story of the Krakoan CIA, so it sets up the global threats facing the mutant nation, and then sends Wolverine to get cut in half fighting them. Also, Forge creates a bio-mech loader suit and smashes the two halves of Logan back together at one point. If that’s something you find yourself chuckling at, this book is going to exceed expectations.

Fallen Angels

Fallen Angels focused mostly on resetting the current Psylocke’s status quo. Kwannon was brought back to life and placed in her old body shortly before the reboot (very quickly: Spiral switched Psylocke and Kwannon’s bodies, then before they could be reverted, Kwannon got the Legacy Virus and died, then when Betsy used a villain’s powers to recreate her old body and reinhabit it, Kwannon…uh…got better…). Here, she teamed with X-23 and Cable, with ops backup from Mister Sinister, to track down Apoth, a technological being selling cybernetic drugs to humans.

It’s mostly setup for Psylocke, X-23 (now Wolverine again, I think), and Sinister while adding another technological foe to the mix. It leads almost directly into Zeb Wells and Steven Segovia’s Hellions, a book about Sinister’s team of mutants who are all gleefully, unrepentantly screwed up and are currently on a mission cleaning up some old clones Sinister left lying around.

Cable, Wolverine, and More…

Cable, Wolverine and the Giant Size issues, are still mostly seeding future storylines. Cable, from Duggan and Phil Noto, has only had a couple of issues so far, but it’s brought the Galadorians (the Spaceknights minus ROM, who belongs to IDW now, I think) into mutant orbit and given Nathan a sword for the crossover.

Wolverine, by Percy, Adam Kubert and Victor Bogdanove, has Logan tracking down illicit Krakoan flower dealers, and also Omega Red works for Dracula now. And the Giant Size issues are mysteries piled on mysteries piled on incredible art. Hickman has scripted all three, and so far, Storm caught a technovirus from the Children of the Vault in the Jean Grey/Emma Frost issue (drawn by Russell Dauterman); we find out what’s up with Cypher’s techno-organic arm in the Nightcrawler issue (from Alan Davis); Magneto buys Emma an island from Namor with art from Ramon Perez; and we get actual backstory and incredible Rod Reis art in the Fantomex issue. 

Empyre

The recently wrapped Empyre: X-Men’s opening scene is simultaneously one of the most important to the metanarrative of mutant struggle that’s been developing since the Professor’s “No More” scene in House of X #4 AND the best setup/punchline in any Dawn of X comic. It also starts to deliver on some of the rumored-but-never-announced X-Men ideas that were floated early after the reboot – Angel and M are two of the leads, playing out a little of the boardroom drama we hoped for after an X-Corporation book was rumored.

X-Factor

X-Factor, from Leah Williams and David Baldeon, more or less just launched. It’s about the team investigating and verifying mutant deaths, to put those lives into the queue for resurrection. This feels like the book set up to deliver on the weirdest promises of the relaunch, and the creative team are inventive, fun storytellers, so keep an eye on this. Williams has a very sharp ear for patter and knows her characters well – while it’s not an X-book, Amazing Mary Jane is a stunning accomplishment of delightful character work. Early X-Factor is more of the same, with more mutant high concept.

And all this is leading to X of Swords, the new X-writers room’s attempt to outdo X-Cutioner’s Song: a 22-part Tini Howard-led crossover where everyone swordfights over half of Krakoa. And still dangling in the ether, unannounced but long discussed, are Vita Ayala and Bernard Chang’s Children of the Atom, following a group of mutant teenagers who idolize the X-Men, and a Moira X book that’s expected to fill in some of the gaps in Moira’s many, many timelines. 

The post What’s Happening With Marvel’s X-Men? appeared first on Den of Geek.

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#aion-rsa #Den of Geek

[zeynalek]

It’s safe to say that unless you have your head firmly placed underneath a rather large rock, then you will have some knowledge of Nirvana and their teen-angst anthem ‘Smells Like Teen Spirit’. But while the track remains a favourite with all who hear it, in truth, the band’s uncompromising lead singer Kurt Cobain never took it seriously from the start.

For all the iconoclastic musings which surround Kurt and his voice, it’s strange to think that Cobain never actually wanted to step up to the mic. In a 1994 interview with Rolling Stone, he confessed: “I never wanted to sing, I just wanted to play rhythm guitar—hide in the back and just play. But during those high-school years when I was playing guitar in my bedroom, I at least had the intuition that I had to write my own songs.”

A few years down the road from Nirvana’s humble beginnings in the late 1980s, and in 1991, one of Cobain’s songs would go on to define a generation and live in the pantheon of great rock songs. The emergence of ‘Smells Like Teen Spirit’ came alongside the band’s breakthrough album Nevermind and set hearts and minds ablaze. The album and the grunge movement—largely coming out of Seattle—arrived like a slap to the face, a big wake-up call, a gut-punch, and other violent similies, to irreversibly shake the music industry up.

In truth, it picked up rock and roll and deliberately turned it on its head and shrugged as it walked away. Grunge was the beginning of ‘Generation X’ and all the scenes that went with it. It was the call to arms, the plodding feet of a new youth platoon and, invariably, that platoon was accompanied by a marching band playing Nirvana’s ‘Smells Like Teen Spirit’ as loud as they could.

The song was a track that broke down the barriers of rock and showed that, if done correctly, any band could traverse the snooty pop charts and achieve success without compromising their values. This was a concept Cobain struggled to handle. Eventually though, stuttered to an understanding on Nirvana’s breadth of new followers, telling RS: “I don’t have as many judgments about them as I used to, I’ve come to terms about why they’re there and why we’re here.” However, in that same interview, he would highlight just why he held so much disdain for the song, often refusing to play it at live shows.

“Everyone has focused on that song so much,” Cobain continued. “The reason it gets a big reaction is people have seen it on MTV a million times. It’s been pounded into their brains. But I think there are so many other songs that I’ve written that are as good, if not better, than that song, like ‘Drain You.’ That’s definitely as good as ‘Teen Spirit’. I love the lyrics, and I never get tired of playing it. Maybe if it was as big as ‘Teen Spirit’, I wouldn’t like it as much.”

(Credit: Subpop)

While the song remains an anthemic battle cry for the disenfranchised youth, it can feel like the sheen of a gathering of like-minded individuals to rally around one track can quickly wear off after the millionth radio play. For this writer, it was the song’s inclusion on Nicole Kidman and Ewan McGregor’s romantic musical Moulin Rouge which put me over the edge—but maybe we’re taking this too seriously after all the song was largely written as a joke.

The Nirvana frontman told RS about the writing process: “We’d been practising for about three months. We were waiting to sign to DGC, and Dave and I were living in Olympia, and Krist was living in Tacoma. We were driving up to Tacoma every night for practice, trying to write songs. I was trying to write the ultimate pop song. I was basically trying to rip off the Pixies. I have to admit it.

“When I heard the Pixies for the first time, I connected with that band so heavily I should have been in that band — or at least in a Pixies cover band. We used their sense of dynamics, being soft and quiet and then loud and hard. ‘Teen Spirit’ was such a clichéd riff. It was so close to a Boston riff or ‘Louie, Louie.’ When I came up with the guitar part, Krist looked at me and said, ‘That is so ridiculous’. I made the band play it for an hour and a half.”

Even the song’s seemingly most profound lyric “Here we are now, entertain us” was an in-joke on Cobain’s behalf. “That came from something I used to say every time I used to walk into a party to break the ice,” he explained. “A lot of times, when you’re standing around with people in a room, it’s really boring and uncomfortable. So it was ‘Well, here we are, entertain us. You invited us here’.”

What started out as a homage to one of his favourite bands, with a silly riff and an in-joke as its defining lyric, became the grunge anthem to end them all. The sad truth is, the song would become a focal point of hurried meetings congregating in executive boardrooms desperate to get an idea of exactly who this Generation X really were. Nirvana became a pinpoint on a mood board. This notion would represent a vein of sadness and inauthenticity that would ravage the end of Cobain’s short life. “Once it got into the mainstream, it was over.”

But at least there was a moment in time when the track meant something to him. “Actually, we did have our own thing for a while. For a few years in Seattle, it was the Summer of Love, and it was so great. To be able to just jump out on top of the crowd with my guitar and be held up and pushed to the back of the room, and then brought back with no harm done to me — it was a celebration of something that no one could put their finger on.”

So, while it’s easy to get caught up in the revelry of what is, it has to be admitted, a quite fantastic rock song — despite all we’ve learned — one must take advice from the man who wrote it and treat it with a modicum of amusement.

Enjoy it. Live with it. Let it define you. But never let it define Nirvana.

(by magazine "FAR OUT")

[enbouton]

Better Call Saul Rewatch, Part 4/30: Upon This Rock I Will Build My Church

Hero (Season 1, Episode 4)

Written by Gennifer Hutchison / Directed by Colin Bucksey

This episode deals largely with identities. Jimmy is Saul Goodman, he’s Slippin’ Jimmy, he’s Howard Hamlin, he’s his own receptionist on the phone, he’s Tony Curtis in the bath scene in Spartacus, he’s a local lawyer and a local hero. It’s fitting that we open with a flashback showing young Jimmy using the name “Saul” for the very first time, and just as fitting that it’s done without fanfare: it’s tossed out as a half-joke. “S’all good, man!” Jimmy, in a garish, slithery-looking striped shirt, leads his mark down the alley where his partner in crime awaits. The unhurried pace of this sequence is very effective, suiting the stillness of nighttime Cicero and the low-key nature of Jimmy and Marco’s con.

The flashbacks on this show (with the exception of the corner-store one) all take place at night or in dimly lit rooms; here’s some good meta that touches on how Jimmy thrives in darkness. Is it significant that the first Slippin’ Jimmy con we see is one that wouldn’t work on an honest person? Jimmy needs a mark who’s willing to make off with the "Rolex”, thinking he’s got one over on the rube who settled for $1,580 in cash.

Afterwards, Marco is radiant with admiration for Jimmy— “I love watching you work”— but Jimmy says his talents are good for beer money, and that’s about all. Again: what would have happened to this guy if he hadn’t had to leave Cicero? This is not the face of a man who’s happy with where he is in life:

(It is the face of a man who’s being "haunted by the ghost of vladimir lenin” (@deadpanwalking), but I digress.)

Back in the present, Craig and Betsy stand over a pile of money and stress that what they did was “for the kids” (sound familiar?). In substance if not style, Jimmy’s pitch to the Kettlemans bears more than a little resemblance to Kim’s pitch to Mesa Verde: “What are you gonna get from me that you won’t get from those other guys? Passion. Commitment ... If you’re with me, you’re my number one client, morning, noon or night. You call me, I’m there. I would be singularly devoted to you.” But Betsy isn’t swayed: “You’re the kind of lawyer guilty people hire.” Ouch. Exhausted and beaten down, Jimmy takes their bribe.

Nacho, now released, surmises that Jimmy tipped off the Kettlemans. I like that Nacho is as smart as Jimmy. I like that the show generally surrounds Jimmy with people who are as smart as he is. Jimmy counters that Nacho didn’t need any help making himself look suspicious, and Nacho stalks off.

As Jimmy launders his money, assigning stacks of cash to “consulting fees”, “research” and “travel expenses”, he constructs yet another alternate self, this one belonging to a narrative in which he worked for the Kettlemans.

We see Jimmy getting measured for an expensive, conservative suit, yet when the tailor steps out of the room, something wonderful happens:

#it’s like watching a baby being born #a really tacky baby

But Jimmy isn’t just using his windfall to smarten up; he’s playing a long con involving a billboard exactly mimicking one of Howard Hamlin’s, ringlets and all.

Small brain: using your ill-gotten seed money to advertise your business

Galaxy brain: dressing up as your enemy, buying a provocative billboard that you know you'll be forced to take down, hiring a film crew, then bribing a worker to fall off the billboard so that you’ll get on the local news for rescuing him

“He’s… you know, a free spirit,” Kim says, having been dragged out of the office to look at it. She demurs when asked if she and Jimmy are still friends, which, tbh, is fair enough, given how Jimmy behaves around Hamlin (we’ll get into that later). There’s lots to think about with Jimmy literally dressing up as Hamlin, recreating his look down to the smallest detail. Once again he’s taking on another persona, albeit just to achieve a short-term goal. “What kind of lawyer are you going to be?” Kim will ask him in season 2. It’s a question Jimmy seems to keep asking himself.

In the midst of Jimmy and Hamlin’s clash, we get an early glimpse at the tightrope Kim is expected to walk at HHM. She shouldn’t feel the need to lie about who her friends are in order to stay in her boss’ good graces, yet she does, and later on she breaks off a friendly conversation with Jimmy to hand over a cease & desist letter. With Kim, BCS dodges the “successful woman has to choose between career and relationship” trope in favour of something much more interesting, a woman facing uncertainty and unfairness in both spheres. Kim’s relationship with Jimmy isn’t even the main reason she’s treated unfairly at work, and her allegiance to HHM isn’t what’s keeping her and Jimmy apart.

The billboard comes down, but not before Jimmy has himself filmed in front of it, first speaking to camera about the injustice he’s faced, then racing up a ladder to rescue the worker whom he bribed to take a fall. It’s fascinating to watch how Jimmy tells his story here. He hits all the right beats— patriotism, bootstraps, public service, the dream of owning one’s own business— and casts himself as the all-American underdog who “scrimped and saved” to buy a billboard only to have it snatched away from him. We’ll see Jimmy employ a lot of these tropes in his advertising later on; this is his skill at face-to-face communication writ large, but the foundation of the billboard con is his ability to create situations that he can manipulate to his advantage.

When Jimmy drags the worker back up onto the walkway and the two slap hands, we finally see his angle. Watching him on the news in the HHM boardroom, Howard mutters “whole thing’s a damn stunt” and walks off. Kim gives a little smile.

The one part of the situation that Jimmy can’t control is his brother. He has the foresight to keep the newspaper from him, but he can’t account for Chuck’s pedantic attention to detail. Of course Chuck will wonder why his newspaper wasn’t delivered; of course he’ll look outside and see that all his neighbours have theirs; of course he’ll deduce that there’s something in the paper that Jimmy doesn’t want him to see, and cross-reference this against what Jimmy told him about a sudden change in his fortune; and this, perhaps combined with the urgent care receipt that fell out of Jimmy’s pocket a few weeks prior, will concern him enough that he’s compelled to go outside.

The show has already tipped its hand re: the true cause of Chuck’s symptoms, but that’s almost beside the point here: what matters is that they are real and debilitating. As soon as he steps outside, he’s overwhelmed, his senses are deranged, and he nearly runs into the path of a car in his haste to get across the road. The chaotic, visceral sequence ends with a blackly comic cut to his neighbour’s perspective. From the outside, this proud, suffering man is just a crazy guy in a space blanket, scurrying back to his door.

Misc.

“You assume that criminals are gonna be smarter than they are,” Jimmy muses to Mike. “I don’t know. Kinda breaks my heart a little.”

IIRC, the billboard, which went up for filming in Albuquerque in 2014, was how we all found out Saul’s original first name.

A wall of glass blocks appears prominently behind Jimmy and his mark as they walk down the alley. Marco’s fake ID, in the name of Henry Gondorff, bears an issue date of July 1991.

What we see of Kim’s office is devoid of personal items, except for a pair of sensible sneakers on the floor.

Timeframe: this episode picks up right where “Nacho” left off and covers a period of about two weeks. The Albuquerque Journal is dated June 20, 2002; Chuck’s copies of the New York Times and Wall Street Journal bear cover stories that were published on June 19th or 20th (they are “Israel Acts to Seize Arab Land After Blast; Bush Delays Talk” and ”Unhappy Returns: IRS Moves to Bring Back Random Audits”).

Music

“Smoke on the Water” by Deep Purple (1972), sung by Marco

“Listen” by Chicago (1969), as Marco and Jimmy smoke

“Battle Hymn of the Republic” by Herbie Mann (1969), as Jimmy launders his money. Saul plays a different version of this song in his waiting room in Breaking Bad.

“Unsquare Dance” by the Dave Brubeck Quartet (1961), as Jimmy calls the media

References

Young Jimmy offers to take his mark to a place “a couple blocks off Cermak”. He’s referring to Cermak Road, a major east-west thoroughfare that runs through Cicero, neighbouring Berwyn, and parts of southern and western Chicago.

“Super 170 Tasmanian wool”: the “Super” number corresponds to the diameter of the wool fibres; the higher the number, the finer (and more expensive) the cloth. 170s wool suiting is very fine, soft and lightweight. More info here.

Sea Island cotton: a variety of extra long staple cotton historically grown in the Caribbean and named after the area of South Carolina:

“Sea Island cotton is the ultimate choice for any suiting connoisseur due to its unrivaled softness and second skin-like feel. This ancient fibre is now grown mainly in the paradise climates of Barbados, Antigua and Jamaica; its inherent long staple yarns create a silky yet strong surface, resisting wear while smoothing over time. Extremely scarce, it makes up just 0.0004% of longer staple yarn production.“ (Turnbull & Asser, where you can buy a Sea Island cotton shirt for £345/$456)

French cuffs: double cuffs that are folded back and fastened with cufflinks; a very formal style

Club collar: a white collar with rounded points, created by alumni of Eton College who wanted their dress to indicate that they belonged to that exclusive “club”. All in all, the elements of Hamlin’s signature look connote wealth and sophistication in a formal, conservative way.

Jimmy refers to Tony Curtis’ appearance in a particular scene in the 1960 epic Spartacus. It’s worth noting that the scene, which features two men bathing together and some heavy innuendo about “snails” and “oysters”, was considered so homoerotic that it was cut entirely by the censors and only restored to the film in 1991 (source). You can watch part of the scene here.

Kim invites Jimmy to a screening of The Thing (1982), a horror film about a group of researchers in Antarctica encountering a parasitic alien entity.

While talking to reporters, Jimmy mentions Bob Woodward and Carl Bernstein, investigative journalists who covered the Watergate scandal.

The Groucho Marx mirror routine Howard refers to is this scene from Duck Soup (1933).

< PREVIOUS EPISODE: NACHO > NEXT EPISODE: ALPINE SHEPHERD BOY

#bcs rewatch #better call saul

[carmenlire]

Higher than the Big Trees Ch. 5

Read on ao3

It’s bright and early the following Monday and Alec has a full day. In the morning, he’s taping the preliminary footage for his Good Morning America slot that will predominantly be live on Friday. In the afternoon, he has two meetings. One is with Out Magazine. He’s their cover for the next issue and he has a photo shoot and interview. The other is with the record execs to discuss the next phase of his career: Album 7, as yet untitled.

Alec hasn’t told anyone, but he’s wildly unsure about where he wants to go. Where does one go after completing their third sold-out world tour? He's been at the top for so long that he doesn't know what else he can do. He fears he's reached his limit. He hasn’t written a song in weeks and the little new material he has is no good.

He’s suffering from extreme writer’s block. Nothing feels fresh. Everything is generic, stale. Mediocre. Alec very much fears that his good luck has run out. He’s spent ten years in the limelight and that’s more than most artists ever have.

Truth be told, Alec is disenchanted with the whole scene. He can’t help but think about that guy from the club. Whatever-his-name-was had been only too eager to sleep with Alec, forget that he was apparently in a committed relationship. People can be shit, and Alec knows that better than most, but it doesn’t help him feel any less like a piece of meat. A commodity.

Everyone wants Alec Lightwood, superstar. They want the guy that can hook them up with floor seats to the Lakers or score them a table at the restaurant du jour without reservations. Alec is the guy who can whisk you away for a weekend trip to Belize, first class all the way.

They want that Alec.

No one sticks around for the less glamorous man. The Alec that’s deathly afraid of spiders, has a hideous fondness for hole-riddled hoodies, and whose favorite movie is Pride and Prejudice. Only a handful of people know Alec under the surface. He likes it that way. He does. But half of that number is family and the other half might as well be. It’d be nice to meet someone who cared about him, the person. Not him, the celebrity.

But, it is what it is, and Alec needs to stop moping and get ready for the day. He wakes up around six in the morning, goes for a run to the Black Panther soundtrack, and when he returns to the penthouse, Jace and Izzy are in the kitchen.

Jace wakes up every morning at the ass crack of dawn to open his gym and who the hell knows why Izzy is up so early. She is notoriously not a morning person.

She’s swallowed up by, it looks like, one of his hoodies. She’s staring at the coffee machine with a kind of singular focus that she usually reserves for the camera or a biology textbook. She doesn’t acknowledge him and he just grabs an apple from the bowl on the counter and heads to his room, throwing a nod to Jace as they pass each other.

He munches on the apple while scrolling through his phone. He answers a few tweets and posts an Insta pic of the three of them from over the weekend. They’re all at Uptown Java with the caption it’s good to be home.

Alec takes a shower and gets ready for the day. He throws on a pair of olive green ankle pants with a lightweight navy sweater and a pair of light brown Oxfords. He throws on his sunglasses, grabs his wallet, and leaves the apartment.

When he gets downstairs, he chats to the doorman for a few minutes. His name is Charles and he’s tall and lean like a greyhound. He’s at least eighty years old and has been working as a doorman since Alec moved in-- probably since before Alec was even born. He’s a sweet man who loves crossword puzzles and sweet tea. He always remembers Alec’s birthday and brings him a pie his wife baked every Sunday when he’s in town.

After talking with Charles, he heads out to the sidewalk. There are only one or two paps hovering around his building and Alec ignores them and their cameras. He’s gotten good at ignoring journalists over the years and they’re usually just like pesky gnats. The town car is waiting for him and his driver, Dave, opens the back door with a grin.

“How are you doing this morning, Mr. Lightwood?”

Alec grins back and throws him a nod. “I’m doing just fine today Dave. How about you? How’re the kids?”

“Well, little Elise won an award at the science fair over the weekend and Davy Jr.’s obsession this month is Simon’s latest album.”

Alec laughs a little. “Simon’s album has been a success. It's holding steady in the Billboard Top 100 and Lewis is ecstatic. I could get Davy a shirt, if you think he’d like it?”

Dave’s smile widens. “You know damn well that Davy would love anything having to do with Simon. I’d appreciate it, man.”

Alec has one leg in the car and looks at Dave over the open door. “I’ll see what I can do. Tell Elise congratulations and that she’ll have to explain to me what her experiment was the next time I see her. The two of them will have to visit Izzy, Jace, and me soon and catch us up. I'm sure Elise would love to chat with Izzy about all things science.”

Dave laughs as Alec sits down. “Will do, Mr. Lightwood.”

The drive to the television station is only half an hour, a minor miracle in New York traffic. Alec spends that time answering emails and catching up on the news.

They pull up in front of the building and when Dave opens his door, he’s immediately bombarded with cameras and shouts. Most of the people are journalists, whom Alec largely ignores. There are a few fans waiting on the sidewalk by the front doors, though, and Alec goes over to each of them. He spends a few minutes talking to them and getting pictures taken.

A few fans have gifts for him, which he warmly accepts. It always surprises him how thoughtful his fans can be. One girl brought him a handmade rainbow bracelet that he immediately puts on his wrist and a couple of boys give him a little penguin plushy the size of his fist. It’s cute as hell and Alec gives everyone a hug for coming out and seeing him.

He heads inside and is ushered through the labyrinth of hallways by an eager and attentive assistant. Alec spends the next few hours talking to more people than he can keep up with. He spends some time working on publicity shots for advertising and gets a better idea of the itinerary for Friday.

By the time he leaves ABC’s headquarters, it’s lunchtime and he has barely enough time to scarf down a hot dog from a street vendor before it’s time to head to his record company’s headquarters in Lower Manhattan. It’s forty-five minutes of bumper to bumper traffic and Alec's almost climbing out of the car before it comes to a complete stop. He’s never late for anything work-related and he strides into Institute Records with three minutes to spare.

Lydia is just inside, waiting for him. She’s on her phone, typing in a flurry, and looks sharp in a five thousand dollar suit. She looks every inch the agent and Alec is grateful that she’s always on top of things.

Without looking up, she asks, “What did you have for lunch?”

Alec says, “A hot dog from the vendor on the corner of 4th and Braxton.”

Lydia suppresses a full body-shudder. “I don’t know how you eat those things, never mind that you seem to love hot dogs with all the fervor of a teenage boy.”

Alec laughs. “Hotdogs are classic. They’re about as All-American as you can get and they hit the spot on a busy day running around New York.”

Lydia hums but doesn’t offer any other reply. She taps on the screen one last time before sliding her phone into her briefcase and finally looking at him.

“So, do you know the game plan for this meeting?”

Alec raises a brow. “Artfully misdirect and willfully play dumb?”

Sighing, Lydia says, “As a last resort, yes. Are you telling me there’s still nothing new that you want to show the label?”

“No.”

Lydia looks at him, appraisingly. “Okay, then. Since that’s the case, we’ll follow your plan. Remember, the primary goals here are to set a due date for first demos and discuss the music video we’re doing for your last single from An Arrow in the Dark. We’ll try to extend the timeline until. . . August 1st? That will give us another month for you to produce more material. What do you think about that deadline?”

An Arrow in the Dark was his sixth album and had sold over a million copies within its first week of release. He only had one more single-- Empty Hearts-- to release from that album cycle and was excited to start filming for the music video. Empty Hearts was one of his favorite tracks from that record and he was looking forward to talking to different producers and directors to see what each of them would pitch for the video concept.

Alec thinks about it for a minute, before responding, “Yeah. That’ll do it. I should hopefully have at least one damn song by then. Besides, I think that’s the best we’re going to get with them.”

Alec loves Institute Records. He’s been with them since he was sixteen and they’ve always been more than generous to him. However, he is under no illusions that he is anything but a cash cow to them. As soon as the well dries up, so to speak, he will have a pile of problems with them. He’d just better hope that this writer’s block eases up soon.

Alec and Lydia walk into the boardroom and are confronted with half a dozen executives in rigid suits, all in varying shades of navy or black. The label president, Jia Penhallow, is in good spirits and the meeting lasts the standard three hours. Lydia is a shark, always preserving Alec’s interests, and Alec appreciates that she does her job thoroughly and unapologetically. By the end of the meeting, Alec has his demo extension and is set to review potential directors during the first week in July-- roughly three weeks from now. Lydia and he shake hands with everyone before leaving.

Alec takes a deep breath once they’re back on the street and Lydia does the same, unbuttoning the top buttons of her dress shirt and taking her suit jacket off, draping it over her arm.

“Well that was more successful than I was banking on,” Lydia says dryly.

“Yeah, I’m surprised they were so chill about everything.”

Lydia shrugs a little. “Maybe in a rare fit of conscious, they saw that you needed a break from working nonstop. Or, they realized that their number one guy on the roster was burning out and they decided to back off in an effort to help you get your mojo back.”

“Whatever it was, I’m just glad they gave me a reprieve. But, I need to get my ass in gear and start writing some songs worthy of the Lightwood name.”

Digging through her bag for sunglasses, Lydia squints at him. “What about those sessions you’ve planned with Catarina Loss? Do you think those will be fruitful?”

Alec looks down the block, watching as a woman talks rapid-fire into her cell phone and a kid skateboards past, narrowly missing running over an old man. His voice is pensive as he replies.

“I don’t know, Lyd. I think that having the opportunity to write with her will be a huge boon to my career. A definite milestone. I just hope to hell we can write, that I can write something that makes goddamn sense. You’re my agent and my friend so I’ll tell you that I’ve written half a dozen songs in the past few months and they’re all garbage. I don’t know what I want my next album to sound like. I don’t know anything. I might be a little more burnt out than even I thought. I need to get my head in the write space to write-- I just don’t even know what that looks like these days.”

Lydia takes a few steps until she’s at his side and wraps her arm around his waist. Sympathetic, but with a hint of steel in her tone, she says, “I’m sorry you’ve hit a rough patch, Alec, but hopefully you can take some time from this break and regroup. Take a weekend and fly to a place where no one knows your name--” She ignores his snort of disbelief, “-- or try something you’ve never done before. Maybe you just need a change of pace. You’ll get over this. You know you will. You just might have to get inventive and change things up. Creativity never deals well with static. You know that.”

Thinking over what Lydia’s just said, Alec nods along. “You might have a point, I suppose. Maybe I’ll rent a cabin in Tennessee for a few days. Or, I could take a cooking class. Try something new.”

Lydia smiles brightly. “There you go! Something different to jumpstart your brain.”

With a sigh, Alec takes his arm from around her shoulders and steps back, putting distance between them.

“Well, as riveting as this conversation and pep talk was, I need to head uptown. I have that interview with Out in an hour.”

Walking backwards a few steps, Lydia nods. “Alright, then. I’m starving anyway. I need dinner soon or I might just faint.”

She turns sharply on her heel and throws over her shoulder, “Have fun! Don’t say anything that will give me a headache tomorrow morning.”

Alec grins and calls out, “No promises,” before turning and heading in the opposite direction.

His job is never-ending, a constant merry-go-round of concerts, meetings, and interviews. He’s hit a rocky patch right now, but damn if Alec doesn’t love his career, the constant flux, thrives off the hectic schedules. He looks wistfully at a pretzel stand as he strides past and ignores his stomach that’s started growling.

He has places to be and people to impress. Alec is thinking about answers to questions that will no doubt be asked this evening. Alec has been interviewed hundreds of times and they always ask the same questions. He knows his standard answers by rote. It never hurts to run through them again, though. He’s stuck in his head, walking on autopilot to the little cafe the interview is taking place at. He doesn’t notice the man on the other side of the street, walking quickly in the opposite direction.

Magnus doesn’t notice him either, too wrapped up in making it on time to his standing Monday night family dinner with his four favorite people in the entire world. Catarina will kill him if he’s late another week and he does so hate disappointing Madzie.

They're just two busy men among a million in New York City. Yet, they're both resolutely not thinking about the man they met a few nights ago and refuse to acknowledge just how often their thoughts stray to the handsome stranger that enthralled them late into the evening. They don't even notice the wistful sighs and pangs of yearning that escape them.

#my writing #httbt #what?? two chapters in 1 week #lol #malec fic #malec fic rec #singer!alec #professor!magnus #fic update

[btsinwonderland]

Love Me Better - Ch. 23

A Monsta X Story...

Previous Chapter - Next Chapter 

Full Chapter List

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

The heater buzzed loudly in the boardroom. The noise stung the silence with its aggressive growling. Each of them sat around the table with a cold draft creeping around the room. The air felt heavy and dense.

Jooheon and Changkyun joined Vy, Hyungwon, Minhyuk, Wonho, and Shownu. Both of them were unsure of why the atmosphere of the room was so dark. Vy nodded at Jooheon when he smiled at her.

When everyone was gathered, Shownu closed the door. He went back to the front of the and put his hands on the table.

"There's been a murder, and until further notice, we have to investigate everyone here. Aside from Hyungwon and Wonho, since the three of us stayed up all night working."

"What? Who died?" Jooheon said.

"We had a prisoner here, helping us with a case. But early last night someone killed him before we could get more information. Unless someone followed us and figured out the combinations, which I doubt, it's someone here," Shownu said.

"Isn't our only hitman Kihyun?" Jooheon said.

Hyungwon spoke this time, "he's on an overseas assignment. He won't be back until next week."

An awkward silence filled the room.

"I know this is hard and I want it to be untrue, but we need to cover all possibilities," said Shownu.

"The last person to see David was Minhyuk," Wonho said. Vy glared at him as he continued, "but the body has only been dead for a few hours. Where were you last night Minhyuk?"

"He was with me all night..." Vy said.  

Minhyuk and her both looked at the table when her statement sunk into the group. Jooheon gasped quietly while Wonho shifted in his seat.

"Okay, who all knew about David being here?" Shownu said.

They ticked off those who knew about David, including Wonho, Vy, Minhyuk, Shownu, and Hyungwon. That was when Vy felt a sliver of fear down her throat. She looked at Changkyun who seemed anxious. Their eyes met and he stared at her for a long time. He silently pleaded her to not do what she was going to do. What she had to do.

"I'm sorry..." she said. Everyone looked at her. "There's one more person who knew about David. Changkyun saw him when Wonho and I brought him the first time."

Wonho jumped out of his seat. "What?"

"I thought it wasn't a big deal at the time..." Vy said. She hated how childish she sounded.

Wonho stormed around the table and grabbed Changkyun by the scruff of his shirt. He slammed open the door and dragged him out.

"Wonho what are you doing!" Jooheon said.

Vy got up and ran after them. "We don't even know anything yet!"

There were multiple protests as Changkyun was dragged to the basement and thrown in a cell. Everyone went downstairs and Shownu eventually made his way to the scene.

"Jooheon where were you last night?" Shownu said.

"You can check my computer logs, I've been working on it all night."

Shownu then went and leaned on the door frame of Changkyun's new cell.

"Changkyun what were you doing last night?"

He looked as though he was about to be burned at the stake. "I was reading and then slept until this meeting. Got up once for a glass of milk."

Vy looked into his eyes and could not see the signs of a murderer. Her heart ached at the thought of putting him in the line of fire but she had to tell the truth.

Shownu looked grim. "Is there no one who can confirm where you were?"

Changkyun merely shook his head as he stared at the floor. His hands gripped the sides of the bed.

"Okay, Changkyun, nobody is suspecting you yet. We just need to confirm a few things. You'll need to stay here until we do that, okay?" Said Shownu.

He silently nodded and lifted his feet up onto the bed. Vy caught his eye expecting anger or resentment, she only received gloom.

They went upstairs back to the boardroom. Hyungwon left with Jooheon to check his computer.

"I don't think he did it..." Vy said, "he's not a cold blooded killer."

Minhyuk spoke, "sometimes people do things you could never imagine. He was the only one who knew that wasn't on the assignment. Why did he keep it a secret? You were only being a good friend but it's his responsibility to own up to that kind of thing."

"We need to get information out of him. Now,” Wonho said.

"What the hell does that mean?" Vy said.

Wonho eyed the basement door with an angry look. "There are faster ways to do this."

"Please Shownu, we don't know anything! We can't just torture him, he's one of us!" Vy said.

Shownu placed a hand to his temple and closed his eyes. "We need to look into this as soon as possible," he said. "Wonho and Vy, you two look into the leads we found last night. Minhyuk I need you to trace out any possibility someone broke in."

"We don't have time!" Wonho said.

Vy put a hand on his arm. "Please, we owe it to him as a member to at least look at one lead before condemning him on suspicion. Don't you feel it too? There's something wrong here."

Wonho looked at her and she saw various things running through his mind. She half expected him to push her aside and storm into the basement. However, he nodded without a word.

They broke away and began their assignments. Wonho met Vy by the doors and led her to his car. She asked him where they were going and he put the vehicle in park and pulled something out of his pocket.

"During the fight last night, I grabbed one of their wallets. We were cross checking his identity and he's in the lower ranks of the Hanamuri. This isn't the main guy that talked to David, it’s the second one."

Vy nodded as they were off on the road. Small bumps and potholes made her head bob so she tried to lean her head back. Her shoulders were tense and pulled against her movement.  After a moment she could not help but blurt out her thoughts again.

"Do you really think Changkyun did it? I just can't see him doing that."

Wonho was silent for several seconds before he said, "I can't be sure. I might have killed him right away..But there's something strange about all of this. The sooner we find out the better."

They found the address of the second man from the club. Wonho parked down the street and turned the engine off. He was about to get out of the car when Vy stopped him.

"Let's not torture anyone today. I want to watch him, let's see what he does," Vy said.

Wonho was about to protest when she pleaded him to listen to her. They sat in silence.

Vy saw the clouds vanish away into a clear sky. The sun gleamed off broken glass along the road. She glanced at the clock after the first hour hoping they would see something soon. Sitting for too long made her legs restless and she could feel Wonho's ever growing impatience.  

She thought about Changkyun, about the way he looked when all his colleagues abandoned him. Not one person fought for him. She felt the guilt creep in.

"Look," Wonho said.

There was a figure coming out of the house. It was the man they were looking for. He walked over to a grey SUV and climbed in.

Wonho started the car when the SUV pulled out of the driveway. They began to follow it. Vy was worried the man would catch on but Wonho stayed well behind him. There were two to three cars in between them. She tried to get a look at his face but the distance was too great and her memory of last night got foggier by the minute.

The man went onto the highway as did they. Vy noticed they were going downtown. From the roads they took she had a feeling about where they were going.

"Is he going to Siren Song?" She said.

The SUV stopped in front of the club as Wonho parked in an alley away from it. They got out of the car and observed him from the side of a building.

The man went inside and came out only five minutes later. He went back to his car and drove off. They ran back to their car to pursue him.

A few blocks later he turned onto a street which housed expensive apartment buildings. It was lined with gleaming silver towers that had balconies sprinkled in neat lines along the sides. His car vanished inside the underground parking of a building. They were about to follow when suddenly Wonho cursed aloud bashing his hand on the dashboard. Vy jumped and saw a sudden rage boiling on his face.

"What's wrong?" She said.

He veered into a parking spot and slammed on the brakes. His eyes were dark and filled with rage as he stared at the building.

"Soo lives there."

#monsta x #monsta x fan ficiton #monsta x fanfic #monsta x minhyuk #monsta x wonho #monsta x kihyun #monsta x shownu #monsta x hyungwon #monsta x jooheon #monsta x changkyun #monsta x i.m. #monsta x rush #monsta x trespass #monsta x the clan #shin hoseok #lee minhyuk #wonho fan fiction #wonho fan fic #minhyuk fan ficion #minhyuk fan fic #kpop #kpop fan fic #love me better #gang au #mob au

[taylorfennersbookishworld]

 LOVE SONGAuthor: Elle GrecoSeries: L.A. Rock Star Romance #2Release Date: August 13, 2020  About the Book Jett Benson is having a bad week. To start, she was kicked out of her soon to be ex-stepfather’s Bel Air mansion. Then, UCLA gave her the boot because of an unpaid tuition bill. Finally, her crappy car just broke down in Venice Beach, and she doesn’t have the money to fix it. And that’s just Monday. Jett needs a job. And fast. But with her car out of commission and a resume that screams unemployable, she has no choice but to crash on her ex-stepbrother Rafe’s couch until she gets back on her feet. Once mortal enemies, a bond grew between Jett and Rafe when their bands toured together. It’s a bond that Jett’s trying to avoid before it morphs into something more. And that something more could break her heart because Rafe’s left a path of shattered ones in his wake. Rafe Davis was adopted into rock and roll royalty. When his own father, guitar player for legendary rock band Anthem, fell victim to the cut-throat music industry, Rafe was enveloped by the Davis clan. Now, like his dad, Rafe is a guitar player, but for Rogue Nation, a band whose debut album is following Anthem’s meteoric trajectory. But Rafe is determined not to repeat history, even if that means guarding his heart against the one person who believes in him. So Jett needs to find a J-O-B and get off Rafe’s couch before she climbs into his bed. Because for both of them, falling in love is not an option. Love Song is the second book in the LA Rock Star Romance series. Set in the glam and gritty Los Angeles rock scene, the series is filled with swoon-worthy men and badass women, all chasing their dreams in Hollywood’s cut-throat music industry. Get ready to fall in love with another LA Rock Star.  Goodreads: https://smarturl.it/LoveSong-GoodreadsAmazon: https://smarturl.it/LoveSong-Kindle About the Author I write fiction about badass women (and the people they love). Urban Fantasy lovers will know me as Karen Greco, author of the best-selling Hell’s Belle series. My Contemporary Romance books are written under Elle Greco.  While the genres are worlds apart, strong female characters are the chain that links all my worlds. These women are magical. They wield wicked weapons. They play a mean drum solo. They fall in love. They rule the boardroom and the bedroom. Whatever they do, they do it with swagger. My storytelling career began when I forced everyone play “make believe” with me when I was a kid. That eventually morphed into banging out short stories on my mom’s old manual typewriter. As I got older, I graduated to penning bad poetry, then not terrible plays as a teenager. I studied playwright in college but my career took a detour and I ended up working in journalism and then entertainment publicity, which kept me busy for 20 or so years.  My “day job” has taken me from gritty rock clubs in The Bowery to glam red carpets during movie premieres and awards shows. My background working with talent (and the suits) in the industry has served me well with the LA Rock Star Romance series.  A few years ago, I decided to pursue my original passion and a few full-length novels later, here we are. I love anything spooky and impossible to explain. If you love hanging out in cemeteries, the older the better, I’d totally go on a road trip with you. I have two rescue dogs, a patient husband, and an awesome kid. Website: http://www.ellegreco.rocks/Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/ellegrecoauthor/Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/therealkarengreco/Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/20421610.Elle_Greco

http://taylorfenner.blogspot.com/2020/08/review-blitz-love-song-by-elle-greco.html

#SEO #Local SEO training http://taylorfenner.blogspot.com/2020/08/review-blitz-love-song-by-elle-grec

[213hiphopworldnews]

Currensy And Wiz Khalifa’s Joint Album ‘2009’ Is A Comforting Reminder That Some Things Never Change

Jet Life/Atlantic

2009 was the year everything changed. It was the year XXL instituted the official title of its soon-to-be annual Freshman cover series. It was the year Twitter entered the public consciousness for the first meaningful time when Michael Jackson died and users crashed the then-burgeoning application’s servers. It was Spotify’s first year of business. And it was long before any of these three disparate entities had become the necessary, interconnected cultural institutions of our times — the same industries that have become instrumental when it comes to covering releases like Currensy and Wiz Khalifa’s new album, 2009, the culmination of all that change and a comforting slice of nostalgia reminding rap fans of a simpler time.

You could argue that Currensy and Wiz Khalifa are the biggest beneficiaries of the new system — beneficiaries who also helped turn Spotify, Twitter, and the XXL Freshman cover into the pillars that they are today. That very first official Freshman cover featured none other than the lowest-key veteran of the independent hip-hop scene around. Currensy The Hot Spitta had drifted from label to label, from No Limit to Cash Money, for the early part of the 2000s with little notoriety or success, but rode a wave of digital mixtapes that highlighted his work ethic. Wiz would follow him onto the cover the next year, but right smack dab in the middle, they dropped their seminal joint mixtape, How Fly.

I’m not sure if it’s the first of its kind, but it certainly was one of the most impactful. Preceding Watch The Throne by almost 24 months exactly, How Fly became a standard for joint albums, since ascending into something like internet myth for the past decade, mainly due to its absence from legit streaming platforms like Apple Music and Spotify. Twitter users remember it fondly, however, and scrambled for its eventual streaming debut — a feat they accomplished just weeks before 2009’s own curtain call. Its premise was simple: Two guys rapping about doing getting high and doing/owning fly sh*t you couldn’t do/have — unless you really worked at it.

Where Hov and Kanye once rapped about the trappings of wealth with a fervor usually reserved for the Republican Party’s leading donors, Spitta and Wiz came across way more relatable. Sure, they had way more money than you, but they eschewed Picassos and boardrooms to spend it all on video games and weed. It was attainable at the same time as it was aspirational; you could almost be these guys if you just got high enough and played enough Call Of Duty to forget that they are several tax brackets away. They were the rich but affable dorm room stoner stereotype six years before Post Malone ever thought to throw on cornrows and whip a Rolls Royce through the desert.

2009 picks up right where they left off ten years ago, but with slight changes (a little like the Bill And Ted sequel that supposedly starts filming this spring). For one thing, both its principals are older, wiser, and not insignificantly, richer than they were in that titular year. Since then, the Freshman cover has become an annual event, Spotify has taken over as one of the number one ways for people to consume music (and for artists to monetize their listens, which are now counted against sales totals by Billboard, another huge change), and Twitter has gone from a lively town hall to a nonstop clash of opposing causes.

That’s why it’s so comforting to see that those life changes haven’t affected Currensy and Wiz’s content or their chemistry. Their agenda — such as it is — remains the same: Smoke pot, play video games, hang with best bud. There’s not even much in the way of internal nostalgia; they let the fans have that while they simply rap the same cleverly goofy rich-guy raps (Currensy raps, “I proved my point when I parked that Rolls Royce, hopped out / Forgot my phone was in my lap, my mothaf*ckin’ screen cracked” on “10 Piece” and it’s hilarious) over the same sort of airy, simplistic beats (produced by Cardo, Dame Grease, DJ Fresh, Harry Fraud, MonstaBeatz, Problem, and Sledgren, among others) as they did ten years ago.

That’s not to say there isn’t growth. Among the usual busy slacker topics, they find time to talk about their sons (“Gotta grind ’cause my son hungry and the rent due,” says Khalifa on “Find A Way”), their legacy “We changed how you smoke, changed how you dress / Your whole life was blessed by the presence of the stoned legends,” as Currensy puts it), and the fact that legal weed means a lot more passive income for our heroes (there are myriad mentions of their respective interests, and a list could dominate the better part of your afternoon reading it).

The raps, honed on a dozen separate projects released since How Fly, are more polished, and the beats, which were probably the shakiest aspect of that project, are much more solid, grounded, and better mixed here. Your mileage may vary with the wobbly “Bottle Poppers,” which benefits from a side-splitting hook but suffers from an off-kilter beat, but joints like the slick “Benz Boys” featuring Ty Dolla Sign and club banger “Getting Loose” with Problem are fun nods toward these stoner brothers’ mainstream status. Otherwise, the rest of the songs feature foggy soul and funk samples and groovy, laid-back drums, perfect for, well, you know.

2009 is a great reminder of a simpler time without being cloying or precious about it. It simply recalls the essence of those early days of stardom for two hustlers with kindred spirits and their heads in the clouds, rapping together for the fun of it before either had much of a fan base to cross-pollinate with the other. Times may have changed, but their bond — and their musical consistency — hasn’t. With as much uncertainty as there is with the world getting more interconnected, it’s nice to have a reminder that some of those connections are truly good and never really go away.

2009 is out now via Jet Life/Atlantic. Get it here.

Wiz Khalifa is a Warner Music artist. Uproxx is an independent subsidiary of Warner Music.

source https://uproxx.com/hiphop/currensy-wiz-khalifa-2009-review/

#hiphop #hip hop legend #hip hop history #hip hop #music #trending #hip hop news #ballin #hip hop scen

[ccharitiesli]

A Nutty Fire Drill

Here at Catholic Charities, we regularly host orientation sessions for our new employees.  As one of the region’s largest nonprofits with more than 600 staff members, the fun, half day gatherings at our Hicksville headquarters are an important way for new team members to discover what makes us tick.  As they learn about service goals and guidelines, they also come to better appreciate our mission and values.  And I personally value these orientation days because they give us the chance to welcome and get to know our new employees. These one-on-one interactions are the building blocks to the family-like culture that is the springboard for all of our efforts.    

Recently this orientation was held on a beautiful summer day and it was clear from the get-go that the sun’s brilliant rays were warming our hearts and spirits.  So, when the fire alarm rang, we welcomed the chance to take a break alfresco on the lawn. Upon our return from the drill, we received quite the surprise.  It seems a most adorable squirrel so wanted to be part of the Catholic Charities team that he scurried in alongside those filing back into the building and took his place at the table in our boardroom!

You can imagine the scene as the shrieks of delight and surprise eventually gave way to the sobering reality that we had to somehow get this little creature out of the building and back into his tree. The facilities manager was immediately paged and a few seconds later he materialized with a few of his stunned associates who seemed just as puzzled as the rest of us. After getting past our initial bewilderment and the obligatory round of one-liners, what ensued was one of the best team-building exercises I have ever witnessed in my 29 years with Catholic Charities.  

Right from the start there was unanimous agreement that, no matter the approach, our fuzzy friend was to remain unharmed.  Thus, with limited zoological experience and no tools to speak of, we began brainstorming.  Would we throw a bag over him?  Heavens no, that would be too traumatic.  When attempts were made to shoo him through the maze of different rooms towards the front door, that clever critter simply made camp high on a shelf in another room.  When we tried to compel him into a garbage can so we could safely transport him outside, he nimbly danced around the can as if he enjoyed the game.  What about peanut butter and trail mix as a lure?? Well, we were stunned to discover that we had in our presence possibly the only squirrel in God’s creation who didn’t like nuts!  Eventually someone went outside, removed the screens from the boardroom windows and opened them wide, so he’d feel the breeze on his whiskers.  And that, my friends, did the trick.  Just like us, our new little friend could not resist the siren song of a warm sunny day.  

This excitement was so much more than a pleasant distraction – it was a showcase for the caring compassion of the staff and volunteers of Catholic Charities.  This new group of employees shared a bond of loving concern for that squirrel that mirrors the spirit of loving welcome that is extended to those who turn to us in their heartache…  Yes, sometimes God communicates with us in unexpected ways if only we’re listening for it.  That day, He revealed the merciful spirit of our employees and their determination and perseverance in resolving unusual problems. If they go that extra mile for a squirrel, imagine how much more they’re prepared to do to serve their neighbors in need! Rest assured, whatever the need, the team at Catholic Charities doesn’t quit until we help navigate the way back to your tree.            

#catholiccharities #ccusa #ccli #comeseethegood

[yangin-atep]

Suicide Squad was a trainwreck. I don't think anyone's really surprised by that.

But it could have been much better. There was the seed of a good idea buried somewhere underneath all the bad decisions.

The opening is awful and unfocused. It spends almost half the movie introducing the squad. Some stuff with Deadshot working out. Shots of Harley Quinn doing weird gymnastics. And the entire aesthetic is awful, the pinks and greens, the "edgy" style. And goddamn, the music. They're trying to ape the Guardians Of The Galaxy dysfunctional team of misfits thing, and then they go right ahead and use the exact same fucking song from Guardians Of The Galaxy.

So right off the bat, Harley Quinn should have had a Brooklyn accent. This seems obvious. I don't know why they'd pick an actress who apparently can't do one, or why they instructed her not to. It's like one of her defining characteristics and it felt wrong hearing her without it. It wasn't her.

This next point speaks more to a missed opportunity with the character in general, in all her appearances, but why the hell doesn't she ever use her psychiatry skills? She's a clinical psychiatrist. She has a doctorate. 8 years of her life. How did she go from that to little more than sex kitten? She's insane, not stupid. She should be observing everyone, picking them apart, exploiting their weaknesses. I hate the overt sexualization of her character over the last decade but if you could maybe comment on that by having her strategically use it to her advantage and then suddenly drop the pretense, become stony-faced, cold, efficient, ruthless, scary. I would have had her wear her Batman: The Animated Series jester outfit. It's still sexy without showing any skin.

Will Smith's nice guy Deadshot really didn't work for me. I like him as an actor, but I don't know if he can play a villain. And that's what Deadshot is, he's a remorseless contract killer who never misses. I would have gone with his classic origin story, where his abusive father was beating his mother when he was a child and he went and found a gun and tried to shoot his father but missed and ended up killing his brother.

Maybe also include his death wish tendencies, over the guilt.

Distill his "powers" down to the fact that he simply never misses. Make it almost preternatural. His costume usually ends up looking really stupid, so I'd base his wrist-guns on the actual WWII Sedgley glove gun, and have his mask just be a plain black military ballistic mask. Make his outfit more or less practical military/special forces.

Despite it being a fairly major departure from the comics, I think I'd actually keep the Ringu-esque version of Enchantress. I liked the creepiness and the weight it brought to her early scenes. I'd go almost full on horror for the character. Play up how ancient the entity is, describe it as being a demigod driven underground during the last ice age. The whole "The Enchantress" magic word bit could be June Moone translating an inscription in the tomb which awakens the goddess.

I'd have the movie cold open with the boardroom scene where Waller demonstrates the power of Enchantress. Make it seem mundane and grounded at first, a meeting at a government agency, low pile grey commercial carpet and conservative shoes, someone pouring coffee, lots of ums and uhs as they go over reports. Then the appropriations committee guy is all rightfully skeptical, talking about slashing Waller's budget. Then Waller has Enchantress do her thing (though I don't think I'd include the Enchantress' heart McGuffin; it muddies the waters, especially when it inexplicably ends up not working later on in the existing film). THEN Kubrick-esque cut to bold title and credits sequence with the jail and find a way to introduce all the other characters more organically instead of the "zany" title cards.

I think I'd have Enchantress serve the same role that Katana does in the existing film, to keep the criminals in line during the mission. *Then* she turns on them when June Moone loses control of the entity.

Keep Incubus as the apparent villain before Enchantress betrays them and teams up with him. Definitely keep the shot where Incubus is standing on the tracks in the subway when the train pulls into the station and he bisects it and you see from his point of view the inside of the train cars as they rush past.

Keep the villains' plan involving these ancient demigods reshaping the world, combining their magic with modern technology, but make it look way cooler, not just dumb boring blue glowy light. It should be all creepy and Giger and Akira style, and clockwork and intricate moving parts.

I wouldn't have the Joker at all, pretty much. Just a rictus grin in the shadows of his Arkham Asylum cell in flashbacks explaining Harley Quinn's origin, but that's it. Show how she became obsessed with the way his mind worked.

Yeah, could have been a good movie if DC didn't so consistently display incompetence with their cinematic universe.

[btsinwonderland]

Love Me Better - Ch. 22

A Monsta X Story...

Previous Chapter - Next Chapter 

Full Chapter List

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[recommended listening]

A song came on that she recognized as she pushed Wonho down on the chair. He looked at her nervously and she began to feel the alcohol setting in. She hopped onto his lap with both her legs wrapped around him.

He braced himself against the back of the chair but there was nowhere to escape. She felt the roughness of his jeans against her inner thighs and began to move. She took her hands and ran them along his chest. Raising her hips she arched her back.

Her chest grazed his face and she could feel him starting to respond to her movement. He placed a hand on her thigh lightly at first, but with each slow thrust his grip tightened.

She rose up and he ran his hands down the length of her body. His hands stopped at her lower back.

"Vy..." he whispered.

She slid off and danced in front of him. Her waist swayed side to side with the music and she turned around and bent over. Her hair flipped around her neck as she touched herself and spun in a slow circle rotating her hips.

Once again she climbed on top of him, this time he faced her back. She took his hands and placed them on the front of her body as she gyrated against his ever hardening form. Wonho's hands began to wander without her direction, he ran his hands over her chest and put a hand on her neck. She leaned back and felt his lips on her ear. He panted in short hot breaths.

She started to turn her face, Wonho's lips grazed her cheek. They inched closer to her lips.

"GUYS. They're taking David somewhere," Hyungwon's voice rang through her ears.

Like a bucket of ice fell on her body she woke up from her tipsy state. She hopped off of him and looked for Minhyuk. He was no longer at his booth and was nowhere to be seen. Wonho stood up and they looked at each other awkwardly. Her face was flaming hot.

"I...um-they probably took him to the back. Let's go," Wonho said.

Vy's head was still spinning when they ran past various people to the back of the club. Wonho charged through the door into a brightly lit hallway. She squinted at the brightness in contrast to the dim lighting of the club.

"Minhyuk, where are you?" Wonho said.

"They're taking him outside, I'm going in!" Minhyuk's voice said.

Wonho and Vy ran through the hallways. They pushed people aside and received angry glares. They ran through the back door to see Minhyuk grappling with one of the men who took David. The other man grabbed a steel bar from the alley and hit Minhyuk across the back. He yelled out loud and Vy winced as her earpiece buzzed.

Wonho grabbed the second man and smashed his head against a car. Vy ran to David and escorted him where Hyungwon was waiting. He was in the driver’s seat of their car and engine was running.

"Take him!" Vy said.

"We have to go!" Hyungwon said.

"What about Minhyuk and Wonho?"

A gunshot fired through the air. Vy looked back in panic to see Wonho and Minhyuk running towards the car. She shoved David into the side and ran to the passenger seat. Hyungwon pulled up in front of them. Minhyuk and Wonho dove into the backseat and shut the door.

Hyungwon accelerated away from the scene as a gunshot hit the bumper of their car. Vy held onto the dash and looked behind her.

"Are you okay? Is anyone hurt?" She said.

They both were panting and Minhyuk said no. His lip was bleeding and Vy's heart felt squeezed when he looked into her eyes.

When they got back to the apartment David was escorted back to his cell by Minhyuk. They all sat at the main entrance. Vy put on Minhyuk's jacket to cover herself.

"What happened, it was just two of them right?" Hyungwon said.

"Soo's bouncers got involved and started helping them, I told you not to trust that bitch," Wonho said.

"Well at least we succeeded and brought him back. It's been a long night, let him rest and we can talk in the morning,” Hyungwon said.

Minhyuk walked in and Hyungwon collected all their earpieces.

"Good job tonight you guys, we’re going to get to the bottom of this," Hyungwon said. Then he turned to Wonho, "let's go meet with Shownu."

As they left Minhyuk and Vy were left alone. Vy felt even more exposed than she was at the club, the air was empty and cold. Minhyuk faced her and they just stared at each other.

"I'm sorry-" they said at the same time.

They went upstairs together and Vy stopped at his door. He led her inside and she stood there feeling an array of emotions. The alcohol buzzed in her head.

Minhyuk took her hands. "Vy I'm sorry you had to see that, I don't know what the hell she was thinking..."

Vy looked up at him. "I'm sorry about what I did, Wonho only did it so I wouldn't have to deal with some creep.”

"Can we just forget about the whole thing?"

Vy nodded. Minhyuk grabbed her head and kissed her. It was different from the other times. It was more tense. His jacket slid off her body and fell to the floor. He ran his hands along her body further than ever before. He escorted her to the bed and laid her down. She wrapped her arms and legs around him as he climbed on top of her.

He kissed her deeply and squeezed her thighs. His hips rocked against her body and she knew what he wanted. She could feel the heat between her legs. It was exactly what she wanted. He pulled off his shirt and she saw the lean muscles of his torso. He kissed her neck and went down her body.

In seconds her outfit was gone and her head spun as he kissed every inch of her. All she could feel was him. Every touch, every smell, every taste was all him.

He hovered over her and stared deeply into her eyes, "you're mine. Only mine."

Everything fell away. Her moans echoed through his room and they lost themselves in the heated moment.

*********

She woke up to see Minhyuk sleeping beside her. Her body was tucked under the covers and she stretched beneath them. Not wanting to wake him, she carefully slid off the bed and went to the washroom.

On her way out of his apartment she looked at him one more time, cherishing the sweet look he had on his sleeping face.

After showering and changing she went downstairs and saw Shownu, Wonho, and Hyungwon in the boardroom. They looked haggard and tired.

"Have you guys not gone to sleep yet?" She said.

Hyungwon glanced up at her and yawned. "Yeah what time is it?"

Vy took out her phone. "It's about six in the morning."

She realized she had only gotten about four hours of sleep. It was going to be a long day.

Shownu and Wonho rubbed their faces and began to organize the files around the table.

"What were you guys doing?" She said.

"We wanted to go through the invoices you and Wonho found, with the other evidence David gave to the guys last night," Hyungwon said.

"Vy can you go get him? It's time we talked," Shownu said.

She nodded and walked down the hallway. The basement door was ajar which was odd as it was usually closed. She payed no mind and went down the stairs.

When she turned towards the rooms she stopped in her tracks. A cell door was open. It was the one David was in. She called his name but there was no answer.

"Guys! There’s something wrong!" She called up the stairs.

She approached the door with caution and pushed it open further. The lights were off and all she could see was darkness. She felt for the light switch and flicked them on.

She almost screamed at what she saw and stepped back almost running into Wonho.

"What's going on?" he said from behind her.

When Vy did not reply he looked into the room and froze. Shownu and Hyungwon caught up with them wondering what was going on.

There was David, laying on the floor in a pool of blood. His throat had been cut open and he had bled out through the night.

Vy put a hand to her mouth and held back the tears that wanted to come out. "Who did this?"

Shownu walked into the cell, avoiding the blood and took a look around. He squatted next to David's body and examined him.

He faced the rest of them with a grave expression. "Lock down the building. Nobody leaves the premises.”

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