#I would like internet strangers to love my cat
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My boy is perfect in every way and also sounds like a squeaky toy
#cats#noodle#mostlycatsmostly#stinky boy#I would like internet strangers to love my cat#he’s sad bc I ran out of catnip 😔
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Hello!
🌟 here again! I'm here with another request for our lovely bodyguard yandere.
Have you ever seen videos of fans jumping up onto stages with kpop idols? Then get carried away by security behind stage?
I'd love to see how our lovely violent baby girl would react to not being able to react with immediate violence as a reaction given all the eyes and cameras on him. Would he be stone faced just carrying the stage crasher by the collar like a cat? Or would he be dragging him by the legs into hell?
The reactions of fans to the bodyguard would be interesting too, I could see Reader being jealous over people thirsting over bodyguard on Twitter or something lol. Or bodyguard confused on why people would say stuff like "he could snap my back like a twig and I'd say thank you" about him.
Hope you are taking care, and I have my fingers crossed to hear from you eventually
Sincerely
-🌟
Long overdue and I'm terribly sorry about that! I had the ideas for a while now, but I could never find the proper words to assemble everything. ;-;
Yandere! Bodyguard x Idol! Reader (III)
Your bodyguard has gained sudden Internet fame after dealing with a crazed fan on stage. Naturally, he couldn't care less about anyone else, but that doesn't stop you from trying to make him jealous in return. Someone will have to be the sacrificial lamb to his murderous possessiveness.
Content: female reader, obsessive behavior, violence, death, reader and yandere are both psycho
[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]
The screen of your phone lights up again and you only need a quick glance to know what it is. Another post about last night’s event. About your bodyguard. You sink your nails into the leather chair and look ahead towards the mirror, exchanging a smile with the hairstylist.
“Oh, it looks lovely! You always do such a great job.” You compliment the woman as you tilt your head both ways, admiring the gentle curls. Now get the fuck out already.
“I’m so glad! Is there anything else you’d like me to-”
“No, that’s all. You can go”, you respond curtly.
The stylist collects her products and waves at you, exiting the room. The phone vibrates once more with a new notification, and you promptly throw it against the door. It scatters in large chunks of scrap across the plush carpet.
The whole ordeal happened within seconds. You were performing the final song of the evening when a fan hurled himself over the security barrier and onto the stage. The people standing at the very front began screaming and some took their phones out, scrambling for a good angle to record everything.
“Please, (Y/N), I’m your biggest fan!” the man pleaded, approaching you with shaking hands.
You froze in place, observing his actions with the same indifference of watching a TV ad that goes on for too long. Before the stranger could even reach your proximity, your bodyguard effortlessly and speedily threw him over the shoulder, giving you a reassuring nod and retreating backstage. He had that smile on his face that signaled he was pissed, and your mouth hung open in realization: You wouldn’t be able to witness the massacre.
You knew that expression all too well. That man would never see the light of day again, and under normal circumstances you would be right behind your bodyguard, cheering him on and suggesting ways to further torment of whoever dared to get too close to you.
And yet, your little ritual had been interrupted. You stood there on the stage, baffled, as the other idols gathered around you with worried looks. You poor thing. That must’ve been terrifying. The audience was shouting words of support, encouraging you to continue as if nothing happened. With pursed lips, you tightened your grip around the microphone and reassured everyone of your well-being. The show had to go on, regardless of your bloodlust.
This morning, you woke up to hundreds of posts online about the incident. Or rather, the way your bodyguard dealt with it. You scrolled through photos, videos, and confessions regarding the mysterious stranger who protected you from harm.
“I need a man like that in my life!”, “I know, right? So cool!”, “Imagine how easily he’d pick you up”, “The broad shoulders! I’m in love <3”
You don’t even have time to be properly upset about it. Your schedule for the day is packed with interviews and photoshoots. You glance in the mirror one final time and exit the room. The bodyguard has been waiting for you, resting against the wall with crossed arms.
“I need a new phone”, you tell him in a casual tone.
“What happened to the previous one?” He inquires, somewhat confused by your sudden request.
“Just do it!” You snap at the large man, rushing past him without providing any window for a reaction.
Ideally, you would very much like to tell him that the sudden influx of attention irritates you beyond comprehension. Then he’d reassure you that his indifference towards everyone else has not changed whatsoever, and thus your worries are entirely unfounded; but, if you need an outlet to release all that stress, he can easily find an empty changing room and service you like he always does.
Unfortunately, there is no time for that.
The bodyguard follows your movements with raised eyebrows, perplexed. What could’ve gotten you into such a sour mood? Has someone caused you to be upset? Are you still pouting after the missed playtime? He ponders the possibilities as he searches for an assistant.
The employee is visibly startled upon hearing his deep voice calling her. She turns obediently and nods, flashing her best customer-facing smile.
“Can you get (Y/N) a new phone?” he asks plainly.
“Huh? Sure…Did she specify any preferences? What was her previous model?”
He stares in confusion.
“…Can’t you guess?” she insists.
“I’m not good with these things.” The bodyguard rummages through his pocket and pulls out an old, cracked device to prove his point. “I don’t use phones much.”
Why would he? The only time he needs a phone is when he’s apart from you, which hasn’t happened since the Christmas incident. He previously considered a more modern option, so he could stalk your social media and make sure you don’t have any perverts sliding into your messages. That proved to be unnecessary, as you frequently leave your phone unattended or involve him in the process: most of your photos posted online nowadays are actually curated by his truly.
“Oh, so you don’t know about the recent craze?” The woman chuckles and takes out her own phone, speedily tapping on the screen before presenting it to the man. “See? You’re trending!”
He scans the multitude of messages. Ah, so that’s what it was. His lips curl into a grin. To think he’d witness his spoiled idol struggle with jealousy.
“That will be it for today!” the photographer announces, gesturing with his hands and guiding his helpers with the expensive equipment.
This was it, the last photoshoot. You unscrew the cap from your water bottle and take a healthy sip from it, wiping the sweat off your forehead with your other hand. The only good part about the continuous work was that you couldn’t check more of those annoying posts drooling over your bodyguard. Remembering it is enough to increase your heartbeat. The male model you were paired with for this campaign walks in your direction.
“Say, do you have anything planned after this?” He questions smugly. “You could come back to my place.”
What a ridiculous idea, you think with a grimace. Does this asshat think he’s worthy of your company? After a second of contemplation, you’re flooded with the same disappointment you felt back on the stage, watching your fan being carried away like a mere piece of cardboard over the much larger frame of your bodyguard. You might just consider the stupid offer. Why not? It’s not fair to be the only one plagued by jealousy.
“Sure. I know a better place, though.”
Your eyes narrow in a bright smile and you lead the young man towards your backstage room. As you pass by your bodyguard, you remember to mention in a low voice: “Make sure no one disturbs us.” He doesn’t answer, merely gazes at you with an empty expression.
“Man, that guy is scary as hell”, the model remarks as he throws himself in your vanity seat. “Are you not afraid to be alone with him?”
“Not really, no”, you respond idly. “You, on the other hand…”
“Excuse me?”
Now then. To set the scene, you gingerly climb into the man’s lap and adjust your arms around his neck. What a frail little human in comparison to your bodyguard. You blush in anticipation and begin counting in your head.
“H-hey, what did you mean-”
The young man is interrupted by someone’s abrupt intrusion. Your bodyguard throws you a quick glance before turning to close the door behind him. Alright, he can’t be too excited. He must pretend he’s furious, baffled, out for the hunt. You went all the way out for him. He even checked his watch to make sure you had enough time. He can’t let his enthusiasm betray him.
You jump out of the model’s hold with a gasp.
“It’s not what you think~!” you exclaim with feigned surprise. “He started flirting with me and I…” Your words trail off and you rub your arm nervously.
The bodyguard approaches the other man with monotonous movements and grabs him by the collar.
“Wait, you can’t possibly…he’s a well-known model!”, you protest with a fake cry.
Sweet little darling. Worry not, he won’t disappoint you. He’ll put on the best show for your sake. Anything to soothe your innocent heart.
“Could be the President himself”, your bodyguard confesses with a dash of theatrics, “and I’d still break his fucking neck for touching you.” He pulls out his pocketknife and looks at you. “I’ll deal with you in a moment, Miss.”
Your knees weaken and you have to rest against the vanity table. Among the screams and pleads for mercy coming from the poor butchered model, you can only focus on one thing: the violent fucking you’re about to receive.
Your bodyguard truly knows you best.
#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere x darling#yandere x you#yandere male x reader#yandere bodyguard#yandere imagine#yandere imagines#yandere scenarios#yandere oc#yandere oc x reader#yandere fic#yandere male#obsessive love#female reader
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Sweet Nothing
Spencer Reid x Fem Reader
Summary: Penelope made a friend on the internet over covid who just so happens to live in the same town Dr. Reid just got a new job... and playing Cupid is her favourite thing in the world
Warnings: strangers to lovers, meet cute, 40-year-old virgin Spencer, Virgin reader (late 20's/early 30's), picnics, food mention, lots of Taylor Swift references, first times, Spencer is on anti-depressants, oral sex fem receiving, multiple positions, multiple orgasms, sweet sex, lots of communication
Word Count: 12.6
Making friends on the internet was never easy… it always came with its own set of unique difficulties. People lie, anyone could be secretly crazy and when actions don’t really have consequences on the web, they can get crazier.
That being said, Y/N has recently made a wonderful friend in a woman named Penelope.
Penelope’s Tumblr page was pretty normal, very pink and vibrant and happy, but normal nonetheless. She’s in her early 40s, an internet veteran, an ex-employee at the FBI and known for creating a brand new, very safe, social media platform for young people. She was very easy to trust, very forward and easy to open up to as well, which made the two of them bond instantly.
And despite the age difference and the long distance, Y/N would consider Penelope to be her best friend.
She knew everything about her from her favourite colour to her hope and dreams and favourite singer… and also the fact she was a virgin well into her adult life and dying to get out there. They’ve spent most of their friendship discussing their equally awful dating lives, would-be lovers and almost hookups. Both women have tried time and time again to find love, however, nothing ever seemed to work out… until the day Penelope got an idea.
“I have a friend…” Penelope leads, something sinister in her eyes. “And he’s single and pretty cute, too…”
“Do you have a crush?” Y/N lights up thinking this is a happy moment for Penelope. “Oh my god, Penny tell me all about him!!”
“Well, no, actually… I want to set you up with him,” she explains further, in a much softer tone. “He’s so soft and sweet and a few years younger than me… and still a virgin.”
Her eyes grow impossibly wide and her jaw drops momentarily, “you’re kidding?”
“Nope.”
“Wow,” she takes a moment to soak it all in. She sits back in her chair and lets her shoulders drop as she thinks about it. And for once, Penelope is quiet too. “How much older than me is he?”
“He’s 41… which I know it’s a lot older than you but he’s what you’re looking for and you’d be so perfect for him. He’s so wonderful and he’s waited for so long to find someone who wouldn’t judge him and I know you’d love everything about him if I told you everything but I want you to meet him and find out for yourself… sorry, that was a lot.”
“No, no, that’s okay,” she actually loved when Penelope went on little rants like that. “I just don’t really have the funds to fly to Virginia right now—
“That’s another reason why he’s perfect for you, he’s moving to Reno next week!!!” Penelope can’t help but shake her hands with excitement while her voice raises at least a pitch if not 3.
“Is this the same friend who’s already from Nevada?” Her eyes light right up like a cat staring at a laser… she’s seen photos on Penelope’s personal Facebook, everything from selfies in new glasses to the parties with friends and throwbacks from working at the FBI… “doctor what’s-his-name?”
“Spencer, yeah oh my god? I can’t believe you remember him?” Penelope asks and she just shrugs, “See, this is why you’re perfect for Spencer, he talks a lot like I do, only about much smarter things but you’d be able to keep up.”
“I’d love that, actually,” she swoons, feeling slightly embarrassed about how the possibility of having a boyfriend makes her so giddy. “I’d love to listen to someone talk about what they love and just sit there and look at them…”
“Perfect, I tell you! Perfect!!” Penelope exaggerates, “he’s moving in a few days but all his things are already there. The department paid for his relocation and everything, I’m so surprised he actually decided to go this time, he’s been thinking about it forever.”
“Ask him if he wants some help unpacking when he does get here and I’d love to give him a hand,” she agrees fully, taking a leap of faith and seeing where this could go without the fear of the unknown weighing her down.
—
She shows up at Spencer's apartment 2 days after he arrives in Reno, a bottle of Welcome to the Neighbourhood sparkling cider and an assortment of muffins in her arms, thinking it would be quick and easy for him to take the muffins to work over the next few days, unlike a flower arrangement he didn’t need taking up space in his downsized apartment.
She takes a deep breath before she knocks, her knuckles are barely off the door when he opens it. She barely has a moment to prepare before she’s smacked with the realization that this man is very handsome and incredibly smart… and so, so intimidating.
“Hi,” he smiles at her. “Is that— you didn’t need to bring anything?”
She looks down at the basket she’s holding and then back up to see those beautiful brown eyes, “I know… sorry, um, Hi, welcome to the neighbourhood,” she hands him the basket with the best smile she can muster, slightly embarrassed to be so flustered by the mere sight of him.
“Thank you, come in,” he steps out of the doorway so she could walk in, he steps away from the door completely and sets the basket on a moving box. “Sorry, it’s a mess, the movers just put the boxes wherever they wanted, so I’ve been reorganizing where they were supposed to go,” Spencer explains, gesturing to the room around them.
“It’s okay, that’s why I’m here,” she’s cheery as she shuts the door and starts to take her coat off. “Can I just leave this over here?”
“Yeah, actually—“ he reaches for the closet door, “I found the box with hangers first so you could hang your coat when you got here.”
“She said you were a genius,” Y/N teases, holding her coat up so he could slip the hanger inside and hang it on the bar. She sets her purse down inside the closet too, just for safekeeping.
“I hope she hasn’t talked me up too much,” he’s honest with his fears. “I’m afraid I’m actually quite average, maybe tilted towards the strange side…”
She gives him another smile, but ultimately shakes her head, “Don’t worry, she didn’t tell me anything really personal. I only really know about you from stories she’s told me about her old job, but nothing in detail… I was just starting to get to know her when you were hospitalized before the pandemic and she was by your side a bunch so she wasn’t online and I was actually worried something happened to her 'cause she’s never that quiet.”
“Oh, yeah, that was awful,” he agrees, pressing his lips together awkwardly while he thinks about it. But then he takes a deep breath and his shoulders drop. “So I was thinking we could start in the kitchen? I’ve found most of the boxes.”
“Yeah, lead the way,” she says, following him through the front room to the living room that was connected to the kitchen by means of an archway. “Oh wow,” she muses aloud, “this is going to be nice to decorate…”
“You think?” He looks a mix of worried and confused, “I have no idea what to do with the place.”
“I’m sure once we start taking out all your things we’ll figure something out,” she knows she can make a room out of anything, it's how she decorates her classroom each September. Just with sheer will and pure hope.
“I had to downsize a lot to come here, I donated most of my books so I wouldn’t cost the department a fortune moving them out, but I still have a lot,” he shares, both proud and a little embarrassed that 50% of his boxes are for books. “I don’t have many personal things or decorations… I honestly wasn’t in my last place enough to make it feel homey.”
“You’ll be here often, though, right?” She asks, selfishly, she can already see them becoming somewhat good friends and she wants to be able to see him regularly.
He nods, “Yeah, I’m going to be working with the sex crimes unit, 9 to 5 every day unless there’s a big case,” he explains. “Like human trafficking or a pedophile ring or something, but I doubt I’ll see an overwhelming number of those right now, it’ll be nice to downsize to just a city instead of dealing with the entirety of The United States.”
“I have 4 different groups of teenagers that I teach, which is like 120 kids alone, I can’t imagine being principal and having a thousand kids to watch out for,” she can relate it back. “I’m sure this will be less stressful for you… still awful sometimes but—
“But I’m good with stress,” he assures her. “Especially this kind of stress. You know, when I first started at the BAU I had a co worker who transferred over from sex crimes in New York, she actually had a great time cause she got to kick some creeps ass every now and then.”
“Oh that’s cool, I guess,” she tries not to be jealous, knowing he’s probably had lots of meaningful relationships with women throughout his life, but that’s not going to stop him from getting to know her.
She grabs a box that says mugs and lifts it to the edge of the counter island instead of dwelling on these bubbling feelings for who is essentially, a stranger. “Which cupboard did you want the mugs to go in?”
“Uh,” he gets nervous then. “I have about 3 boxes of mugs… so wherever they fit?”
“Sounds good,” she can’t help but smile, it was cute. “Do you like to collect them or something?”
“Kinda,” he reaches into his pocket and takes out an exacto-knife, handing it to her so she can open the cardboard box. She pushes the knife out of its plastic sheath and starts to cut along the tape seam.
The first mug she pulls out is a pink octopus, “oh, this is so cute?”
“That’s Mildred,” he can’t help but smile, “I got that from Penelope on her last day at work.”
“Oh,” she holds it to her chest in a sweet hug. “I can’t wait for her to come and visit, I just know she gives amazing hugs.”
“Actually, she hugged me before I left and said that I was supposed to pass it along to you at some point…” he looks at her softly, slightly terrified. “Which is strange 'cause she knows I don’t like touching and we’ve never met before but for some reason, she knew I’d still want to hug you upon meeting you…”
She can’t help but laugh, placing the mug down on the counter, “is that an invitation?”
He nods, opening his arms and allowing her to step into his space. She wraps her arms around his middle and holds him close, feeling his large hands on her shoulder and upper back, his thumb lightly caressing the fabric of her shirt.
She stays there in the hug for a moment and then pulls back, “I’ll be sure to tell her that you passed that along.”
“Good,” he’s smiling like an idiot, bright red and flustered, falling head over heels for her already.
At least, the little voice in her head thinks so. Making her smile back at him with the same giddy hopefulness that she’s longed for most of her life.
—
He feels like the most awkward person in the whole fucking world. Hiding away in the living room to unbox something alone and give himself a moment of anxiety without having to play it cool in front of her any longer.
She’s pretty, she’s nice, she smells like honey and happiness and new beginnings… Penelope raved about her for days when she heard he was moving to Reno and now he can see why.
Y/N is amazing… it’s almost too good to be true.
She’s in his kitchen humming while she unpacks box after box of his dishes, moving around his new space like she was always meant to be here too. Like she’s a ghost or an extra piece of the pre-furnished listing. Like it was hers first.
He can’t quite place what song it is that she’s humming, but it’s nice. He wanders over to the archway and leans against it, watching her in admiration as she slides some more mugs to the back of a shelf. He knows he wants to ask her out for real. Not just as friends, not just for help or convenience but because his aura is drawn to hers and the colour they could make together has never been made before.
When she turns around to grab another mug she’s startled by his presence in the doorway, “gosh,” she gasps and places her hand on her chest to get over the initial shock. “What the heck, Spencer?”
“Sorry, it’s just…” he licks his lips and thinks it over before saying it, “It’s so nice to have you here… it feels right.”
“Oh,” she softens, he can see a weight lift off her shoulders and her eyes glimmer under the lights. “Thank you, thats the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me?”
“Would you want to go on a real date, tomorrow?” He can’t help but ask. “I know Penelope was hoping for us to date and I hate that she’s always right but, I would really like to go on a date with you.”
“Yeah, absolutely,” she makes her way around the counter and over to be closer to him. “I’d love that, what do you want to do?”
“Um,” he really didn’t think that far ahead… “can I surprise you?”
“Sure,” she gives him the sweetest, most hopeful smile that makes his heart swell.
“Is there anything you don’t like? Or are allergic to? Anything I should avoid?” He can’t help but ask. The last thing he wants is to surprise her with something that makes her distance herself from him. It’s happened too many times before.
She shakes her head, “not that I can think of?”
“Okay,” he smiles at her, stepping into her space more. “I found my Alexa that Penelope got me years ago, did you want me to put on that song you were humming?”
She looks like a dear in the headlights, she clearly forgot he could hear her when she was humming. “Oh, um… no? I don't think you’d like the song.”
“It sounded nice when you were humming?”
“It’s embarrassing…”
“What is it?”
She sighs and gives in, “Taylor Swift has this song that I listen to when I dream about the life I want and it’s been stuck in my head all day cause I’m in your kitchen… and the lyric is outside they’re pushing and shoving but you’re in the kitchen humming, all that you ever wanted from me was Sweet Nothing…”
“That’s not embarrassing,” his heart swells. “Penelope is a matchmaker, has she ever told you about all the couples she created at the FBI? She’s responsible for 5 marriages and by proxy about 10 babies.”
“Wow,” Y/N’s a bit taken aback by that. “So you’re saying she’s like Cupid?”
He nods, “Or she’s able to see fate's design a lot better than us.”
“One hug? That’s all it took?” She teases him.
“A few mugs?” He teases right back.
“Hey, you can tell a lot about a person by what they hoard,” she bites back, trying not to smile too hard.
He just shakes his head and backs up, headed back to the living room with her in tow. “Hey Alexa, what’s the Taylor Swift song that says you’re in the kitchen humming.”
“That would be Sweet Nothing by Taylor Swift on Midnights By Taylor Swift, released October—“ the British man's voice comes booming from the small speaker only to be cut off.
“Hey Alexa play Sweet Nothing by Taylor Swift,” he orders with a smirk plastered to his face.
“Okay, here’s Sweet Nothing by Taylor Swift on Amazon Music.”
Within the first few notes, he knows this is going to be their song. He extends his hand to her, silently asking her to dance even though he doesn’t really know how… and by design or some exquisite happenstance, she takes it.
With one hand in hers, his other hand lands on her hip while her extra hand is placed ever so gently on his shoulder. Chest to chest, eye to eye, they smile and sway along to the flow of the tune. Her hand squeezes around his own slightly tighter, the tune matches exactly how she was humming in his own kitchen and then he hears the lyric she mentioned.
They said the end is coming,
Everyone's up to something,
I find myself running home to your sweet nothings.
Outside, they're push and shoving,
You're in the kitchen humming,
All that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing.
He spins her around making her laugh as she crashes back into his chest and holds him tighter. She wraps her arm around his middle and rests her chin on his shoulder. The music is loud, but his thoughts are louder. He wants everything this song mentions but with her. Only her. And it’s been only an hour and a bit that he’s known her. He doesn’t even really know her but he craves to.
“Do you write poems?” He asks after the song mentions them.
She shakes her head, “no, but I know you read a lot of them… do you write them too?”
He nods, “Sometimes… maybe I’ll make you one.”
“I’ll probably cry,” she admits.
Industry disruptors and soul deconstructors
And smooth-talking hucksters out glad-handing each other
And the voices that implore, "You should be doing more"
To you, I can admit that I'm just too soft for all of it
She is soft-hearted. She’s sweet and kind and wonderful, too. She tilts her head to the side to rest against his own. Now cheek to cheek, he lets out a deep breath he didn’t even know he was holding. She hums along to the song, just soft enough for him to hear, not quite on key, but it’s endearing.
They’re quiet for the rest of the song and keep swaying, knowing it’s going to end soon and they’re going to have to pull away. They don’t want to… luckily the song is on a loop. It starts right back up and so they don’t pull away.
—
His place is still a mess when he gets ready to leave the next morning. After their dance, she knew she wouldn’t be able to focus on unpacking and he knew he’d be too tempted to hold her all night long… so she went home. He helped her into her coat, he hugged her goodbye and she left, taking a piece of his heart with her.
He’s not as used to Reno as he was with DC, but one look at the map and he was able to find the grocery store quite easily. He walks there because he opted not to bring his shitty car with him. He sold it with the promise of looking for a new one here in Nevada, but it was actually a lot nicer to walk in a sunny place like this. And on days when it’s not as nice, taxis exist for a reason. He really didn’t need a car, anymore.
He didn’t realize how much he missed Nevada until now.
He spent a lot of last night thinking about what he wanted to do for their date and came up with the splendid idea of a picnic. The first thing he did was call Penelope, it wasn’t too late for her back in DC, so he didn’t feel too bad, but he had to ask her some questions. He wanted everything to be perfect. She talked his ear off and then gave him an extensive list of the things she knows Y/N likes from past conversations, it turns out they’ve spent a bit of time talking about snack foods and it was finally coming in handy.
He comes back to his newly unpacked kitchen with bags of groceries, he prepares sandwiches on croissants and cuts up cheese and puts them on toothpicks with fancy slivers of meat… and he bought some new Tupperware so the meats and cheese can be in one and the fruit he bought can be in another. He bought her favourite drinks and some cute disposable cups to put them in because he didn’t have anything other than coffee mugs, which he was sure she wouldn’t mind, but he did.
He wanted this to be perfect for her.
All while he was packing their picnic basket, he listened to Taylor’s music, thanks to Penelope he had a playlist of her favourites to get himself caught up on them and ended up liking most of them himself. Especially one called Maroon. The lyrics are so powerfully written and wondrously sung, it’s as if a heart-stopping novel was put to music and all told within 3 minutes and 38 seconds. Taylor Swift is a genius, that much her lover got right in sweet nothing. What a mind, indeed.
Just a little past her apartment, there is a little park with a lovely field of flowers beside it. It’s a perfect spot for a picnic, so once he’s finished packing their picnic, he sets off on a walk to her apartment, thinking a walk to the park together would only add to the ambiance of the day.
He makes it to her place a little before 11, like he told her he would, and spends a few seconds in the hallway to catch his breath and fix his hair before he knocks. And when he does knock, it’s 3 times and he hits the wood pretty hard with his knuckles. Inside, it’s pretty quiet and then he hears her call out, “Just a sec!!”
He waits patiently for a minute or two and then she wipes the door open while putting in an earring, “Sorry, I didn’t realize what time it was.”
She’s breathtaking. She’s all dolled up and it’s all for him. He can’t believe it.
“That’s okay,” he manages to breathe out, leaving his mouth hung open as he stares.
She just smirks and reaches out for him, touching his chin and redirecting his jaw closed. “You don’t want to catch flies…”
He blushes, uncontrollably, and bows his head, bashful as ever. “Sorry, you just look beautiful… I’m not used to someone getting all dolled up for me.”
She lets out a huff of breath through her nose, settling all her nerves, her shoulders drop and she stares at him like he’s the only man in the whole world. “You’re so sweet, I almost can’t believe you’re real.”
“That feeling is mutual,” he assures her.
She finally looks down at his hands to see him holding a picnic basket. “Oh my god, are we going to have a picnic?” She lights right up.
He nods, “is that okay?”
“Okay? It’s perfect, Spencer!” She’s so excited and it’s real. She’s not playing it up or anything. She’s genuinely over the moon. “Let me just put on my shoes and grab my purse, you can wait in here.”
“Okay,” he steps inside and closes the door behind himself as she runs off into he bedroom.
It’s a small apartment. Her bedroom and bathroom are separate rooms, but the kitchen, living room and the washer and dryer are all exposed. She has it set up really nicely, it’s warm and inviting and happy and he could see himself making a home on her couch in the upcoming weeks of getting to know her. He couldn’t wait to learn about her favourite shows and movies and books. He wanted to hear all about her family and friends and co-workers, even her favourite students and the ones who irked her. He wanted to hear about it all. He wants to know her favourite colour and how she likes her pizza and her pasta and what her favourite baked good is. There’s an endless amount of personal things that he can learn, and he wants to know it all. He wants to love it all, too.
When she returns, she has her shoes on, her purse over her shoulder and a blanket draped over her forearm. “I don’t want to sit on the grass, and I didn’t think you fit a blanket in there…”
“Oh, shoot,” he looks down at the basket and realizes that was the one thing he forgot. “Yeah, we’re going to need that.”
“Thought so,” she smirks. She walks back over to the door and grabs her keys, “anything else you need?”
“Just you,” he replies without thinking it over.
“Stop being so sweet,” she nudges him, staring up at him like he hung the stars, himself.
“Or else?” He teases. It’s remarkable how easy it is with her. It just flows out of him like the script was already written between them.
She steps even closer into his space, “you get a kiss for every compliment,” she says, standing on her tip-toes, she presses her lips to his cheek for 1, 2, 3 seconds of pure bliss.
She drops back down to her normal height, a smirk plastered to her face, proud of the lipstick stain that’s almost as red as his blushing cheek. She reaches up to wipe it off but he pulls back, “don’t…” he’s adamant. “I want everyone to know you’re mine if you’re going out looking this beautiful beside me.”
“Okay then.”
—
Like a real man, Spencer insists on standing closer to the road as they walk along the sidewalk. A few moments into their walk, he transitions the basket to his right side so that his hand that’s closest to her is free and she notices it right away. She has draped the blanket over her left arm, leaving her right hand free… all but begging him to take it. But he’s shy and quiet and he doesn’t know how to just do it.
So she does.
She takes his hand in hers and interlocks their fingers, smiling up at him as they keep going forward, “have you ever been to this park?”
He shakes his head, “No… is it nice? The reviews online said it’s clean and there isn’t a lot of illegal activity there.”
She can’t help but laugh, “Yeah, it’s a nice park. Sometimes I hit up the bookstore down here and then I go read in the park. It’s nice in the summer when I have a week off between my regular job at the school and my summer job.”
“Summer job?”
She nods, “Mhm, you know, 'cause I only work at the high school when school is in session and I don’t make enough to take two whole months off so each summer I take a new job. Like last summer I worked at a daycare but the summer before that I was at a ladies' clothing store a few streets over.”
“What are you going to do this summer?” He asks, intrigued.
“I’m not sure yet… I’m still friends with some of the girls at the daycare so I might go back, but honestly, I’m also thinking of putting in my application for summer school and I might tutor some of the kids that need help graduating,” she explains. “Cause I know how hard it is to try your best and still just not get it. They shouldn’t be punished for having a hard time.”
“You sound like a wonderful teacher, I’m sure they’d really like to have you in the summer, too,” Spencer compliments. “I was always closest to the kids that didn’t do very well in school. It’s not that I pitted them or felt like I could improve them, I just liked who they were as people, more.”
“They’re lovely kids, they just get pushed to the side because they either learn differently or they can’t do the work at home for whatever reason. And they shouldn’t be punished for that, it’s not their fault that most kids nowadays have to work to help their families or become a second parent to help their younger siblings. They barely have the time to take care of themselves let alone do 5 hours of homework a night,” she rants, “I genuinely hate how the school system is currently.”
“My nephew is in high school currently and he isn’t having the best time,” Spencer shares. “He calls me for help on his math homework sometimes and it always floors me that even if he got to the right answer, if he didn’t follow the exact formula that the teacher uses then he gets a 0. There are many different ways to solve an equation, and as long as he shows his work it should count.”
“Exactly!” She raises her voice a little and startles a lady passing them. “It’s frustrating to watch them struggle with shit they’ll never use again unless they’re going into a math-dominated field. It’s not fair.”
“More kids need a teacher like you,” Spencer says, giving her hand a little squeeze.
“Why, thank you,” she gleams. “If we weren’t in the middle of the walkway I’d kiss you again…”
“The books store is just up here, you can kiss me in the aisles… if you really want to?” he kids, but not really. She can tell he wants another kiss from her.
So she drags him into the bookstore, they tell the worker that they’re just looking and perusing the store, calling out the titles they know and rating the backs of the ones that seem interesting until they’re in the back aisle. She turns to him with a smirk, “Are you gonna make me stand on my tip-toes every time, bean sprout?”
He smirks and places the picnic basket down on the floor so his hands are free, “I could just kiss you, instead, you know?”
“You wouldn’t be so bold?” She tempts, secretly hoping he will.
He tentatively reaches out, placing his beautifully soft hand on her cheek and caressing her skin with his thumb before he starts to lean in. She closes her eyes in anticipation, just mere seconds before their lips touch and like the big bang, universes were created in the pitch-black darkness behind her eyelids. Colours she’s never seen before, feelings she’s only read on pages that surround them, and a warmth in her chest that seems so foreign… yet so right.
He goes to pull away and she leans back in, dropping the blanket in the process to kiss him again and again until his tongue slips past her lips and it's more than just a kiss. It’s the start of something beautiful. Something more than Penelope ever thought possible when her two friends ended up in the same town at the same time.
They’re brought out of the moment by the sound of a woman clearing her throat, “You actually have to buy something you can’t just make out back here.”
“Sorry, sorry.”
“I’m so sorry!”
The two of them rush out with equally guilty mugs. She grabs the first book she see’s, “We’ll take this.”
“I’ll meet you at the register,” the keeper replies rather snidely and over it as she walks away.
Looking down at the book, it’s a poetry book by an author she’s never heard of before. “You know this one?”
Spencer shakes his head, “surprisingly, no.”
She picks up the blanket again, he grabs the basket and the two of them slowly make their way towards the cash. “Sorry, again,” Y/N says, pressing her lips together awkwardly. “I don’t know where that came from, we really just wanted a book for our picnic.”
“I’ve been in love before, I get it,” she waves it off with a growing smile. “This is a good choice… it’s only 6 dollars as well.”
“I’ve got it,” Spencer steps forward, taking his wallet out of his pocket and handing the woman two 5 dollar bills. “Do you take tips or donations?”
“Always, it keeps the lights on,” she’s happy to take the extra money, exchanging one of the 5’s for 4 1’s and placing them in a jar behind the desk. “Thank you, I hope to see you back here sometime.”
“Definitely, I’d love to have a real look next time,” Spencer teases as Y/N takes the book. He places his hand on her back, “thank you.”
“Have a good rest of your day,” she adds for good measure, following Spencer towards the door.
“You too! And enjoy your picnic!” The lady calls back just before they leave.
“God,” Y/N scolds herself, “I can’t believe that happened.”
“Spencer just laughs, “It’s not that embarrassing… believe me, I’ve walked in on much worse.”
“I can imagine, I mean, Penelope told me about some of your cases,” she says with the roll of her eyes. “I really don’t know how you did it for so long.”
“Honestly, me either,” he agrees with her there. “How much do you know about me? Because she never told me much about you and I’m worried we’re not on even playing grounds…”
“Oh, not much!” She tries to sound as believable as possible. “She basically told me you’re a genius, she loves you like a little brother and some little anecdotes like you were shot in the knee once and were on crutches for months and you wear a lot of purple which I’ve also seen in the Facebook photos she has of you… but nothing super personal.”
“Okay, that’s good then… cause she’s seen me at my worst,” Spencer admits as they make their way toward the park entrance
“She was basically big brother to you guys,” Y/N teases.
Spencer manages to laugh, “Yeah, she was.”
The gates to the park are open, there are children running about cheering with one another while their parents sit on the benches and talk, barely watching on. They pass everyone and head right back to the grassy area behind the playground, past the soccer fields and take cover under a baby Willow tree that still has lots of growing left to do, however, she’s still big enough to cast a good amount of shade on them.
She lays out the blanket perfectly and takes a seat while Spencer gets down on his knees, placing the picnic basket in front of himself. All while they’re still talking about Penelope. He takes out two plastic champagne flutes and hands them to her first, then he sets out the bubbly drink he got, followed by 4 Tupperware containers. “Speaking of which, I called her last night and she told me about your favourite snacks…”
“No way?” She can’t believe it.
He simply nods, a smirk growing, “It would seem you two love food.”
“Well, it’s always late when we call so she’s seen a lot of my nightly snacks,” She admits. “Is that? No way…” She takes one of the containers and opens it up to find little croissant sandwiches. “You want me to fall in love with you? Don’t you?”
He’s startled to hear it and she can’t believe she said it. It was forward and real and incredibly honest. But Spencer nods. Of course, he nods. “Yeah, I do.”
She looks at him like that 'I do' was the big one. The most important one. And to her, it’s almost more important. “Really?”
“I’ve spent most of my life completely alone, I’m tired… and I’m not settling, not at all, no,” he stutters out and worries he’s offended her. “I just mean, I like you, you’re wonderful already and everything I look for in a person and if you loved me I’d be the luckiest man in the world.”
“Wow,” she can’t believe it.
“Sorry—
“No, no,” she reaches out, dropping the container so she could touch his knee instead, “don’t, I’m just shocked, really…”
“Really?”
She nods, “Yeah, not many people have just openly told me that they like me let alone want me to love them?”
“Me either,” Spencer admits. He’s ready to lay his whole heart bare to her. “I really want someone to love me and if that someone was you then I could die happy.”
“Not on my watch,” she manages to smile. “My love means taking care of you. My love includes worrying and obsessing and making you entirely mine… it’s driven people away before we could even start anything real, I don’t want that to happen here.”
“It won’t,” Spencer is quick to reply. “It can’t drive me away, it’s exactly what I want… and I want to love you just the same.”
“You won’t have to try hard,” she teases, smiling up at him. “Come on, get comfortable, grab a sandwich and talk to me. Tell me about yourself and watch it happen.”
“Okay,” he follows her instructions.
He gets comfortable on the blanket, taking off his shoes so he can sit crisscross applesauce and he pours them each a glass of sparkling cider. “I’m sober,” he shares first. “I had some drug problems in my 20’s and I find if I avoid all substances, except coffee, then I won’t slip.”
“Wise man,” she compliments. “I don’t drink either, mostly cause drinking alone is sad and I don’t like how it makes me feel.”
“And I picked this pinky one cause of the line in Paris…” Spencer admits which makes her peak right up. “You know, fake wine makes believe it’s champagne…”
“Oh my god, you listened to Midnights?”
He nods, “I went back to listen to Sweet Nothing and thought why not?”
She can’t help but shake her head and smile, “That’s so cute, you have no idea how cool this is for me. No one I know really likes her, everyone acts too cool for Taylor Swift and then you come in and listen to her on your own accord? That’s— that’s everything to me, Spencer.”
“I think she’s amazing, well, so far, at least,” he admits. “I’ve only listened to the one album but it was a great album, I particularly enjoyed Maroon.”
“Her track 2’s are always my favourite,” Y/N raves. “She saves track 5 for her personal favourites or songs that mean the most to her, like on Red there’s this one called All Too Well and it’s originally 5 minutes but on the new recording of Red it’s 10 minutes and it’s so good. It’s insanely beautiful.”
“I can’t wait to listen to it,” he can’t help but smile. “I love listening to you talk about her, you glow.”
“Here,” she pulls out her phone and headphones from her purse and plugs them in. “We can listen to it now if you want?”
“Okay,” he agrees, taking an earbud and placing it in his ear while she moves closer to share the other.
And for 10 minutes they sit there in silence, she eats her sandwich and he listens to the words with the most admiration. The hurt is palpable, the passion is gut-wrenching… he loves it and she can tell from the look on his face. He’s so focused and enthralled. She feels a warmth in her chest that she hasn’t felt before, something in this moment is what makes her really love him. She isn’t just infatuated, he isn’t just cute and nice… he’s special.
“That was amazing—
“I never want to feel like that,” she whispers, staring at him intently. “don’t break my heart, please.”
“I don’t plan to?”
She lets out a deep breath she didn’t mean to hold, “I’ve never dated anyone before because I can’t go through the heartache. She made it seem so fucking awful I never want to feel it.”
“It’s awful,” he admits, all the hurt he’s experienced comes forth, pooling behind his eyes as tears form. “I was in love only once. She died before I could tell her.”
“Oh, Spencer, I’m so sorry,” she can’t believe it. “When?”
“In 2013.”
“Have you been single for 10 years?”
He nods, “Basically. I tried to date before the pandemic but she wasn’t really my type, it was more convenient so it didn’t last.”
“Oh.”
“This isn’t like that,” he assures. “You’re kind and beautiful and you have a normal job and you make people's lives better… you’ve made Penelope’s life better. You are sunshine—
“Do not call yourself midnight rain I will laugh,” she cuts him off, biting back a smirk.”
“I wasn’t,” he laughs too, “but it works here, too.”
“I’m not always sunny,” she adds, making sure he knows that.
“That’s okay,” he’s fine with it, really. “Even on gloomy days, the sun is just behind the clouds.”
She can’t believe he just said that. It’s so beautiful and kind and about her? It makes her just stare at him, mouth opening to say something but nothing comes out. She doesn’t know what to say. “Oh, man… I’m going to fall in love with you so quickly.”
“Me too,” Spencer smiles, reaching out to hold her hand. He grips it tight and doesn’t break eye contact with her, “and I’m excited about it.”
—
He only lives around the corner from her which means they see each other every day for the next week. They wake up at the same time, they get coffee before work, she drops him off at the police station and then she heads to the high school. After school, she goes and picks up something for dinner and he Ubers right to her apartment to eat. They talk well into the night, they listen to music, they watch documentaries and movies and they cuddle… she knows almost everything about him and he knows almost everything about her. He’s going to meet her family in the summer, hopefully, and she’s going to meet Diana in a few weeks.
Being together is the most fun she’s ever had in her entire life.
And while they’re not going on dates to get to know each other, they are dating and Penelope is happy about it for the most part. She’s just upset she lost her nightly chats with Y/N on Zoom. They barely even text now.
When Penny finally does get Y/N on the phone, however, it’s on a night that Spencer has an intense case in Reno. The BAU are back in town… 3 women have died this week, all online sex workers, they never walked the streets and yet that’s where they’ve ended up. It’s heartbreaking.
“I called him today during his break and he just sounded so defeated, it breaks my heart,” Y/N says with her hand over her chest and pleading eyes, “it’s too bad you’re not working with them again.”
“Their new tech guy is good,” Penelope assures her, “and he’s got JJ and Luke with him so he’s fine… he’s more than fine, he’s Spencer.”
She rolls her eyes playfully, “he is fine…”
“You guys really like each other?” Penelope digs, she wasn’t going to pry and press too many questions but she can’t help herself.
Y/N nods, “Yeah… I think I love him.”
“Really?” Penelope lights right up, “Oh my god?”
“I know! It’s been so nice, we were going to go on another date tonight but, you know, duty calls…”
“How many have you had so far?”
“Uh,” Y/N doesn’t really know. “Well, we unpacked boxes last Saturday and then on Sunday we went to the park and I’ve seen him every day this week…”
“I know,” Penelope pretends to be mad about it but she can’t stay fake mad for long. She loves them both too much. “I’ve missed you.”
“I miss you too, I just like cuddles with my boyfriend more…”
“Boyfriend?”
She nods, “Yeah, I think that’s what we are, I mean, we’ve already talked about what we want and he said he wants to fall in love with me so I think that makes us boyfriend and girlfriend?”
“Spencer said that? Shy, nervous, Spencer Reid?” Penelope can’t believe it.
She can’t help but laugh, “Yeah, I guess that’s him… I don’t know, he’s a lot less shy with me.”
“Have you—
“No, no, not yet,” she waves her hands in front of the screen and looks panicked. “No. We haven’t even talked about it yet.”
“No?”
She shakes her head, “No… I mean, I want to and we’ve had some nice make-out sessions but we haven’t done anything more than kiss.”
“Wow,” Penelope is genuinely shocked. “I thought you would’ve jumped him by now.”
“Hey,” she says with a cheeky smile. “I have self-control… so does he, I guess cause he hasn’t even tried to cop a feel or anything, he’s super reserved.”
“Well yeah he’s spent 40 years being a virgin,” Penelope says without any malice, she’s just stating a fact. “He’s used to things not going there. I think you have to make the move.”
“I was thinking that too,” she doesn’t sound excited about it. “I’m just really scared even though I know I shouldn’t be when it’s Spencer. He’s going to be very sweet and he’s already told me he thinks I’m beautiful and I feel it around him… it’s just so nerve-wracking.”
“I was still a teenager when I had sex the first time and it was so scary, I wish I waited,” she really emphasizes Wish. “I wish I was mature and chose someone good and deserving and I wish he cared about me. But you have all those things right now, it’ll be worth it now.”
“I know,” she tries her hardest to believe her. “I know it’ll be okay… it’s just the anticipation feels more like anxiety.”
“Which is totally normal, but it’ll go away when it happens, believe me.”
“I do.”
—
Spencer's cause goes on another 4 days. She brings him coffee and donuts after work, she meets his friends and ex-collogues and she understands now why he had to get out of it all. Emily is just a few years older than him and fully grey, JJ sneaks out to make phone calls to her family who she doesn’t see as often as she wants and Luke is still single no matter how hard he tries. The job takes things from them.
She gives him a hug before she leaves each time, never a kiss, that would embarrass him in front of his new co-workers and his old ones would never let him live it down. So he gets just a hug. It’s long, they linger and then she goes home.
It’s weird being home without him now that he’s been there often. She misses him dearly, every day. All through the weekend, he works. And then the case ends on a Tuesday at 3 in the morning and stays up just for her. He buys them coffee, he walks to her place and he knocks on her door right at 6:30, 15 minutes after he knows her alarm has gone off.
She opens the door dazed and confused. “What are you doing here?”
“I missed my best friend.”
“Get in here,” she tugs him inside and makes him put the coffees down so she could have a proper welcome.
She cups his face in her hands and kisses him with so much force and passion, it startles him. But he kisses her back. He wraps her up in a big hug, bringing her in closer, he deepens the kiss with the swipe of his tongue and she pushes him back against her door. It’s as fiery as the first time, it’s better than the kiss in the bookstore, there’s so much more feeling in it now.
His hand roams up the flat of her back, over her shoulders and rests on the nape of her neck. His thumb caresses the skin under her ear, causing her to moan into the kiss and pull away, embarrassed. Her eyes go wide and she stutters on her way to find an excuse but Spencer just smiles, still caressing her, he brings his other hand up to cup her cheek, “It’s okay… you’re so cute.”
Her cheeks heat up and she feels bashful as all hell. “Shut up,” is all she can manage to say. “I’m still half asleep, I mean, you should be lucky I already brushed my teeth before you surprised me.”
“Mm,” Spencer hums, running his tongue over his teeth, “that’s why you’re so minty.”
She just pulls away and reaches for her coffee, “And now I can’t drink this until the minty-ness goes away, so thank you.”
“Should I go awa—
“No,” she rushes out. “No, you can stay. I can drive you home on my way to work.”
“Okay,” he can’t help but giggle a bit as he makes his way closer to her, reaching out for her waist. “You like me…”
“Shush!” She swats him away, “I have to get ready, don’t tempt me.”
“Just one more kiss? Come on, isn’t it the deal that I compliment you and you kiss me?” He begs. “You’re so beautiful and smart and lovely—
She steps closer to him and presses her lips right to his only to pull back just as fast. He cups her face in his hands and stops her from moving away too fast and peppers kisses to her lips. “Spence— Spencer!” She giggles while trying to pull away, “Seriously, I have to go to work!!”
“Fine,” Spencer sighs as he lets her go, only to pull her back in for one last kiss. “Okay, now you can go.”
She just laughs as she pulls away and heads back to her room, “Come on, you can sit in my room while I get ready.”
“Really?” He follows even though he doesn’t believe her.
“Why not?” She doesn’t see why it’s a big deal, “I’m just doing my makeup and then I have to pick an outfit and I’ll change in the bathroom?”
“Okay, yeah, sorry I just thought you meant you’d change in front of me and I didn’t think we were there yet?”
“Oh, no,” she agrees. Taking a seat at her little makeup desk, she turns to him. “When do you think we should be ready for something like that?”
“When do you want to?” He questions her right back.
She shrugs, “I don’t know… this Saturday is 2 weeks of us being together so, I mean, most couples start moving further around then?”
“We’re not most couples,” he reminds her.
“What do you mean?”
“Well,” Spencer hesitates, he looks a little nervous but he sits on the end of her bed anyway. “I’ve never had sex before… I’ve wanted to, I’ve tried.”
“I’ve never even tried,” she’s incredibly honest. “Making out is as far as I’ve gone with anyone.”
“Really?” He almost can’t believe it. “Why?”
She shrugs, “I’m over-emotional and incredibly soft. I can’t do one-night stands and I’ve never trusted anyone enough to experiment before.”
“Oh,” Spencer softens, “you feel safe with me?”
She nods, “Extremely.”
He gets up and wraps his arms around her, resting his cheek against the top of her head. She snuggles into him and holds onto one of his forearms, they both sigh. Completely content with one another.
—
They agreed to try and go further on Friday night. They both have weekends off, so they could spend the whole weekend together if they wanted to.
And when Friday comes, she isn’t nervous. It’s just a Friday.
She placed an order for Chinese food when she got home from work and texted Spencer right after so he could get it on his way over. It was closer to his place and convenient this way and he just liked to get it for them. And while he’s on his way, she takes the time to bring out some comfy blankets to put on the couch for their cuddles later and she lights some candles and turns on her fairy lights. Her whole living room is set in a soft, romantic mood with the hopes that they could do more than just cuddle tonight…
Spencer knocks 3 times to let her know it’s him and then he walks in, “Hey, so they ran out of spring rolls but they gave us egg rolls instead, is that cool?”
“Yeah, that’s fine,” she doesn’t care, rushing over to the door she takes the bags from him and puts them on the table by the door instead.
He slips out of his shoes and puts them beside hers, then he takes his bag off and places it beside his shoes, next he takes off his coat and hangs it up. He even locks her front door for her, these are all things he’s used to doing after 2 weeks of visiting. She clears her throat when he takes too long to turn back to her, “excuse me, I’m waiting,” she teases.
“Sorry,” he steps closer to her and places his hand on her cheek as he leans in for his welcome home kiss. It’s a new tradition that she loves so much and clearly he does too as she can feel him smile through the kiss. He kisses her once, twice and a 3rd time just because he can, “there, happy?”
She shakes her head and cups both his cheeks, pulling him in for a longer, more passionate kiss. His hands go to her waist, holding her closer to his body, he wraps her up in a hug as well. She pulls back with an audible “mwah,” and a smile on her own face. “Now I’m happy.”
“You’re so cute,” he compliments. “I missed you so much today.”
“I missed you, handsome,” she compliments right back. “Um, I missed you so much I was wondering if maybe you’d want to stay over tonight?”
“Oh?” He’s only slightly surprised, “yeah, I’d like that… I just need to check my bag, hold on.”
“Okay?” She’s a little confused about why he has to, but she doesn’t ask any questions. She just watches him open up his satchel and search the pockets.
“Oh, good,” he says with relief in his voice as he pulls out a bottle of pills and his toothbrush. “I haven’t told you yet, but I’m on antidepressants… I take them every night before bed.”
“That’s nothing to be ashamed of,” she says without a second thought. “Do they help?”
He nods, putting them back in his bag until later, “Yeah, I like them.”
“Good, now, come on,” she grabs the bag of food and makes her way over to the kitchen so she can start dishing everything out. “Did you check that they had everything?”
“You bet, after they forgot the red sauce last time I’m never not checking the bag again,” he says as he follows her.
They spend a few minutes in the kitchen as they fill their plates with a variety of food. Spencer opts for a fork while she uses the chopsticks provided in the bag and then they move back to the living room. They put their plates on the coffee table and sit down criss-cross apple sauce together on the floor in front of the couch. The remote is on Spencer's side of the table, and the TV is on and ready for them to pick a show, but instead, Spencer asks how her day went.
“Oh, it was okay with my juniors we worked on SAT prep and then with my 3 freshman classes we worked on their independent study unit and I’m now considered the cool teacher cause I let them listen to their music while they read,” she shares with a smile. “And then for my spare I filled in for Miss Tyndall, the arts teacher, so we watched a David Bowie doc while they all worked on different projects.”
“Sounds like a fun day,” Spencer loves to listen to her talk about it all. “You’d be my favourite teacher too.”
“I know,” she can’t help but smile. “How was your day?”
He shrugs, taking a forkful of fried rice, he covers his mouth with his hand while he talks, “It was okay, no one died so that’s a bonus.”
For the rest of their meal, they share little stories, about their day and things they heard on the news or on TikTok, funny anecdotes and memories from their separate pasts. It’s nice. She could listen to him all day and he felt the same. When their plates are empty, they both lean back against the couch and Spencer turns to stare at her with so much love in his eyes.
“I’m really enjoying my nights with you,” he shares, and in the silence, she feels it. But he says it anyway, “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” she says and a feeling of relief flows out of her in the form of a sigh. Her shoulders drop, and she looks over at him with a sweet smile, silent as they take in the moment. “I love you so much.”
He places his hand on top of hers, both of them are in too much of a food coma to move closer or kiss or anything. They just hold hands and stare at each other.
“I get it now,” she whispers. “I understand what she’s been singing about all these years… this feeling right here. It’s worth the heartbreak, I think.”
“I can’t tell the future, but I know I never want to leave you,” Spencer replies, voice equally as soft. “I want everything with you.”
Her heart starts to beat out of her chest but she knows she has to ask it. “Would you be my first?”
“Only if you’d be mine?”
She nods, tears bubbling behind her eyes, and she squeezes his hand. “I’d love nothing more… but I’m in a food coma right now.”
Spencer breaks out in a burst of historical laughter first, causing her to laugh just as hard and lean into his shoulder.
“Well, then it’s a good thing we have all weekend,” Spencer finally says, he wraps his arm around her and holds her close.
“Even if we don’t do it tonight, do you want to sleep in my bed with me?”
He nods against her, “Yeah… I’ve been thinking about that a lot actually. It’s really hard to leave here in the middle of the night knowing you’re sleeping alone in there when we were just cuddling right here,” he motions to the couch. “I want to wake up with you next to me every morning.”
The warmth that fills her stomach is a mixture of extreme happiness but also anxiety… it’s almost too good to be true. She pulls away and looks up at him with fearful eyes, “is it normal to fall in love this fast?” The words just tumble out of her.
Spencer shrugs, “I mean… I’ve always heard the saying ‘when you know, you know’ and I’ve read a lot about love at first sight and the way we pick our mates based on familiar facial structures that make us feel safe… and I’ve been in love before and I never met her—
“But I understand why you loved her, she was the only person in your life other than your mother to truly take care of you and listen…” Y/N cuts him off, remembering the night he told her all about Maeve.
“Yeah, and from the first day I met you, you’ve done the same,” Spencer reminds her. “You brought me muffins so that I’d have something to eat before work and you wanted to help me unpack and every day since you have cared for me more than anyone I know. Onto of that you’re beautiful and easy to talk to and you’re not only wonderful to me, but to everyone, you know. It wasn’t hard for me to love you, I’m just surprised you love me.”
“Why?”
“Well, for starters I’m a 42-year-old man who’s spent the last 20 years of my life hunting serial killers and I had a drug problem and I’ve killed people and I was in prison… you know everything and you still love me?” Spencer really can’t believe it.
“Mhm, I love you because despite all that shit that’s happened to you, you still have a sweet smile and a big heart and the best mind I know,” Y/N confirms everything he needed to know. “I love you because you’re you. There’s no other reason.”
He cups her cheek and looks at her with the softest expression known to man, “I’m going to love you forever.”
“Show me?” she whispers, pleading with her eyes to know just how much he loves her.
“Do we just leave our plates here?” He teases, going to stand up.
“I guess we can put them away,” she agrees, she moves to her knees and gathers up her own plate while Spencer does the same with his.
They meet again in the kitchen, placing both plates in her dishwasher, she turns to the leftovers and starts to pack them away while Spencer moves back over to his bag. He grabs his phone and something else while she’s not looking and he opens up Spotify. He doesn’t have many songs saved to his account, just some classical music and the most important song… Sweet Nothing.
She turns to him within milliseconds, “Spence?”
He places his phone on the counter and hands her a little rock, one he picked up on his walk over to see her before work last week. He never had the time to give it to her between all their kissing and her getting ready for work. “Here… it’s only May but I can get you another rock in July.”
She doesn’t want to speak or she’ll cry, but she manages to say: “okay,” as she takes it from him and steps into his space to dance again. In her kitchen this time…
She rests her head on his shoulder, his arms around her waist, they sway to the sound of the music and hold each other close. And then he kisses her shoulder and the side of her neck up to her ear. He cups her face in his hand and stares into her eyes, “bedroom?”
“Bedroom,” she agrees, taking his hand in hers, she leads him back into her room and turns on just the one table lamp she has beside her bed, “should we light candles and stuff?”
“Do you want to?”
She shrugs, “I don’t know, isn’t that what people do when they have special sex?”
“Special sex?”
“You know, first times, birthday sex, anniversary sex… emotional sex,” she redefines what she meant and surprisingly she isn’t embarrassed.
“Candles would be nice, then,” Spencer agrees with a smile. “Do you have condoms? Are you on the pill?”
She smirks, “I bought some condoms on Tuesday after work.”
He watches her open her bedside table and take out the box of condoms and a lighter, she hands him the condoms, “Here.”
“Thanks,” he reads them over, latex-free, real feel, they’d work perfectly.
While he’s reading over the box, she lights a few candles in her room and he takes a seat on the side of her bed, watching her. When she returns to him, she stands between his legs and rests her hands on his shoulders. “You’re sure?”
“Absolutely,” Spencer smiles up at her and reaches out to hold her hips. He plays with the hem of her shirt, “how do you want to do this?”
“Can we strip down to our underwear and get into bed and kiss for a bit and see where it goes?”
“Of course, yeah, that sounds good,” Spencer agrees, he pushes up her shirt and she lifts her arms to help. Spencer has to stand up to pull it all the way off and then he looks down at her in her bra. “wow…”
“Thanks,” she smirks, shaking her head as she reaches for his shirt to undo the buttons, “they’re just boobs…”
“Just boobs,” he repeats with a small chuckle. “I’ll have you know everything about you is spectacular.” And with a rush of confidence, he cups both breasts with his hands, he runs his thumbs over where her nipples are hidden under the fabric and she has to bite her lip so she doesn’t moan.
“Do you like that?”
She nods and pushes his shirt off his shoulders until it's discarded on the floor. “Yeah. I don’t think you’ve ever noticed but… your hands… I watch them when you talk and when you’re tracing a page as you read really fast and you use two fingers instead of one and I’ve wanted you to touch me from the moment I saw you.”
“Mmm,” he turns her around and motions for her to get on the bed and she moves quickly, she’s resting her head on the pillows when he’s suddenly hovering over her.
He runs his pointer finger from her chin, down her neck and between the crease of her breasts before cupping them both again and places kisses on her exposed chest. She arches into the contact and his hands follow both her arms until his fingers are interlocked with hers. Holding them over her head as he kisses her neck and shoulder.
“So beautiful,” he whispers, “how’d I get so lucky?”
“We have a great mutual friend, remember?” She teases,
He groans “Don’t mention her when I’m about to go down on you…” he says as he nibbles at her skin and it makes her moan, grinding her hips up against him, she wants him so bad but she still has her pants on. He sits on his knees between her spread legs and undoes the button as she lifts her hips, helping him glide them down her legs and off. He tosses them to the floor and goes right back in, gripping her by the hips he leans down and kisses her stomach… something she never thought any man would do.
He wants her just as bad as she wants him and it’s prevalent in the way his eyes are blown out as he looks up at her, pleading with his eyes, all he says is “Can I?” And she nods. He pulls her underwear down and tosses them off only to lift one and kiss from her ankle and all the way up to her knee and then he dips in closer, smothering her inner thigh with kisses and nips and then he sucks a deep purple mark into her skin, lapping over it with his tongue before blowing on it softly.
“Holy fuck,” she moans as he gets closer to her pussy and all she wants is his hands on her.
Almost like he reads her mind, he moves to the other leg and hurries along until he’s kissing right along where her underwear used to meet her thigh. Then, he spreads her pussy and licks a broad stripe along her cunt. He presses a kiss to her clit next as she bucks her hips into the sensation, “Oh my god, Spence?”
“Shh,” he whispers, looking up at her from between her legs like a man starved. “Just enjoy it, I’ve always wanted to do this.”
She’s so turned on from the teasing alone, and then he adds a finger, he gently circles it around her hole before inserting it slowly, seeing how much give she has before he takes it all. The feeling of his tongue on her is unlike anything she’s ever felt before, he’s soft yet rough and sweet yet disgusting with the noises he’s making. She can’t help reaching out and gripping his hair as her hips lift from the bed again. With only one free hand, he pushes her back down against the bed and she whines. When he adds a second finger, the stretch isn’t too much to handle, he’s so much better with his hands than she figured he’d be as he finger fucks her. His tongue on her clit and freehand trails from her hip up to grip her tit as he grinds against the mattress, he’s so into it she’s worried he might not get to really fuck her.
“Spencer,” she pants, “holy fuck Spence, please, oh my god,” she can barely make it through the sentence when his fingers curl and her legs tremble.
“Cum for me,” he growls against her and her body listens as she jolts forward and she feels the rush flow through her bloodstream.
“Oh!” she cups her breast and arches her back, oblivious to how he watches her while still lapping at her clit.
When it gets to be too much for her, she grips his hair tighter and pulls him off, “fuck me, now… please?”
“Is it an order or a suggestion,” he teases as he kisses back up her body with his glistening and wet lips, “well?”
“Please?” She looks at him with the sweetest, most fucked out expression. “That was amazing, baby.”
“Fuck,” he groans and drags himself off the bed so he can push his pants and boxers off in one fell swoop. Now, only in his mismatched socks, he doesn’t really have the time to take them off as he reaches for the abandoned box of condoms at the foot of her bed.
She watches contently as he hastily rips it open and rolls it on before he gets back on the bed. He gets right back to where he was, between her legs, he places his hands on her knees and soothes them down her inner thighs, “you sure?”
She nods, “I’m ready.”
“Okay,” he says with a deep breath, readying himself in the meantime, he grips himself at the base and pushes the head into her, inch by inch, he watches as her mouth opens in a silent gasp.
“My god…” he coos, “it’s like you were fuckin made for me.”
She’s speechless, reading out for more of him, she’s desperate for his touch. Her hands land on his hips, his skin is so soft and warm and then they’re flush together. He bottoms out and stills, he drops down so that they’re chest to chest and she cups his face instead, “Hi…”
“Hi,” he manages to laugh, holding himself up with one arm, his other hand pushes her hair back off her forehead and stays there. “I love you.”
“I love you,” she says as she pulls him in for a kiss, tasting herself on his tongue, he collapses onto her and wraps his arm around her, angling her hips up as he starts to thrust.
The kiss gets hungrier, and they moan into each other as he picks up the pace, really fucking her just like she asked him to. She has no idea where this side of him came from but she can’t explain how much she likes it, the hand that was once in her hair is now pushed into the pillow, bracing himself as he hovers and fucks her deeply.
She absentmindedly runs her hand along his forearm and takes his hands in hers, interlocking their fingers before he holds it over her head again and fucks into her with vigour. Her legs wrap around him, every trust grinds his pubic bone against her clit and she’s still so sensitive, she’s so incredibly close that all she can do is sloppily kiss him and moan into his mouth.
His hips snap faster and faster as he fucks her and she can’t hold back anymore when she tosses her head back and sucks him in more. “Oh my god,” and “Holy fuck,” is all she can say, making him smirk.
He’s trying his hardest to keep his composure, breathing quickly, it’s the best workout he’s ever had trying to keep the pace and please her right. “I might,” he says between pants, “I might last a while… cause my meds—
“I don’t care,” she uses her free hand to cup his cheek again, “I want to stay here forever, holy shit.”
“Yeah?”
She tosses her head back again, “Oh my god, yeah!”
He just laughs and it’s the sexiest thing she’s ever heard. She’s right there at the edge when he retrieves his hand from behind her back and rubs his thumb over her clit, “you can cum, if you want.”
“No, no, it’s fine,” she says, running her hand down his chest and looking between them to see what he’s doing, “I want to finish with you.”
His grip on the hand she’s holding gets tighter, he’s sweaty and losing stamina and nowhere close to being done. “Do you want to switch positions?” She asks, “It’s okay?”
“Can we?” He slows to a stop, “you’re okay with that?”
“Spence, I love you,” she reminds him, “It’s fine, it’s better than fine, actually… I’ve heard all my friends talk about dudes who last 5 seconds, this is more than I ever expected.”
“I’m just anxious, you can see why I take them,” he gets all blushy and bashful as he lets go of her hand, pulls out and sits back up on his knees.
She sits up too, taking her bra off in the process. She tosses it to the floor and his jaw drops when he sees her naked chest, “fuck..” He mumbles under his breath.
“Here, you sit up against the headboard,” she suggests, moving out of the way so he can take her place.
Once he’s settled she straddles his hips and takes his cock in her hand, angling it toward her entering as she sits upon it. Once he’s fully inside she drapes her arms around his shoulders and smiles at him, “We can do it this way… now you’ve got a face full of tits.”
His hands soothe down her bare back down to her hips, he licks his lips as he looks at them and helps her glide her body against his. “My god,” he all but moans, watching her boobs jiggle as she starts to really ride him.
“You’re so deep,” she moans, tossing her head back again to free up her neck, he pulls her in and kisses her from her shoulder up to her ear, lighting sucking at her earlobe, he brings his hand up to cup her cheek and ends up gripping her hair at the nape of her neck and pulling her to the side so he can messily smother her in kisses. “No marks, I have teenagers to teach, ‘member? They’re fucking ruthless.”
“Mhm,” he mumbles, too into it to really care, his other hand reaches down to thumb at her clit, he’s getting close and she wants to finish with him.
He finally does cup her face with the hand that was just in her hair, he caresses her cheek with his thumb, pulling her back in for a kiss that’s all tongue. She moans into his mouth, running her hands down his chest, she uses his as leverage to keep pushing back before grinding down on him, he’s right against her g-spot and so fucking deep she can feel him everywhere, “Spence,” she whines, pulling back from the kiss, “are you close?”
“Uh-huh,” he pulls her back in, kissing her deeper, he wraps both his arms around her back and lifts her up, laying her back against the bed and slams his hips into hers over and over.
Her back arches again and she opens her mouth in a silent moan, it’s so good she can barely breathe. She reaches out for him, gripping his biceps, he attacks her neck again, covering her in sloppy kisses and hot breath. His pelvic bone grinds against her clit, again and again, bringing her right to the edge again until she finally peaks, moaning, she arches her back as her orgasm rushes through her but he doesn’t stop. He fucks her through it, chasing his own high.
“Fuck, I love you, I love you so much,” he mumbles, through his last few thrusts, and then he stills with a groan, filling the condom, he drops down against her.
they’re a ball of limbs, holding each other so close she doesn’t know where she ends and he begins. He buries his face in her neck, still kissing her, she holds him tighter, “I love you so much, too, Spencer.”
taglist:
@reidsbookclub @samuel-de-champagne-problems @superskittles @thedancingcostumeyoungadult @midnightreids @ncsls0515 @stevesmunsons @sweetyyhippyy @manuosorioh @mrs-dr-reid @k-k0129
#Spencer reid#Spencer reid smut#Spencer reid fanfiction#Spencer reid fanfic#Spencer reid imagine#Spencer reid x reader#Spencer reid x y/n#Spencer reid x you#Spencer reid self insert#Spencer reid request#criminal minds smut#criminal minds imagine
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Hi. For a long time i thought this was pretty weird (?) but after doing more research i found out that many people shared it and it made me pretty happy, i found a part on the internet pretty funny and i want to have fun too.
I'm not very good at English but i tried my best getting a little help.
So, these are my favorite OP characters and some headcanons i have of them of how they are when they are in love or in a relationship.
CW: SFW / KINK
Kaido
Kaido in love can get pretty scary, he knows he's scary and uses it to make fun of you. He also invades your personal space.
When he is drunk he seeks physical contact, sometimes he doesn't measure his strength and you get to feel a bit of discomfort to his grip.
He doesn't care if his subordinates are present or not when he shows his affection towards you, he likes to show you off.
His way of flirting is to take you on his ship to accompany him to eliminate his enemies, he wants to show you how strong he is and the respect his crew has for him.
In intimacy he likes to use intimidation and point out how small you are and that he could tear you apart if he wanted to.
Rob Lucci
He definitely chases you everywhere, no matter where you go, he will follow your footsteps wherever you decide to go. You will never be out of his vision. It's not that he distrusts you, he trusts you wholeheartedly, it's just that his favorite activity is to always be with you even though he recognizes that you need your "space".
He spies and reports on every person who approaches you to know if they are to be trusted. Regardless of your opinion, that is up to him to decide.
It will be better for everyone's sake that no one dares to even draw a tear from you or else he will commit the most violent and bloody murder. Eventually you will realize that this person has disappeared.
He doesn't show you affection in front of others, for him that's too private, but he also doesn't bother if it's you who shows some kind of affection, in that case, he doesn't ignore you.
When it's just the two of you alone, he never lets go, he's a cat that climbs on top of you to lick your neck.
During sex he has absolute control over your body, he knows perfectly where to touch you and how to make you go crazy. He uses his hybrid form to leave marks like scratches and some bites.
On special occasions he likes to be treated as a pet and to wear a collar to dominate him and follow your orders.
Shanks
He is very attentive and dedicated, he treats you with great delicacy and gentleness. Very gentlemanly.
He will always give you the best of the best, you will never be disappointed. He looks for the best treasures to be your property.
He will make you laugh many times, he is a very funny man, especially when he is drunk.
All the time he is talking about you. Even when he fights with his enemies, before finishing them he presumes that he has to leave quickly because he has to kiss someone.
He recognizes your strength and independence but is secretly terrified of something bad happening to you.
In a drunken state is when he is most sexually active and becomes a complete stranger, he is very wild. He has a fetish for smells and is very aroused by the contact when both are sweaty. In the midst of this activity he likes to talk dirty.
Sir Crocodile
It must be a miracle when he says something nice about you. He is not very affectionate, it is very difficult for him, sometimes it seems that he is not even interested in you.
He is a man of very few words, he has peculiar ways of letting you know he loves you and makes sure they are unique and special.
He does not like you to get involved in his work. He will keep the relationship very private and would expect you to do the same.
He is very jealous, as soon as someone wants to flirt with you, Crocodile squeezes your waist with his hook.
He doesn't like to murder people when you are present, he thinks it's something you shouldn't witness.
Although he thinks Buggy is an idiot, he is one of the few people next to Mihawk that he feels safe for you to be with.
When it comes to sex he is rough and gentle at the same time. He makes sure you feel comfortable. After that he feels more open to express his feelings and tell you how much he loves you.
I had a lot of fun writing this hahahahaha, hope you like it <3
#one piece#one piece headcanons#rob lucci#shanks#sir crocodile#kaido#kaido one piece#rob lucci x reader#sir crocodile x reader#kaido x reader#shanks x reader
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Just Make it Better｡*.✧
Pairing | Eddie Munson x bartender!reader
Warnings | 18+ only, porn with a fair bit of plot, swearing, oral (female receiving), vaginal sex, unprotected sex, AU where the pull out method is infallible, he comes on reader but like in a romantic way.
Word Count | ~4,830
A/N | Eddie: that's what's killing the kids!!! Me, twirling my hair: haha, wow, so true, Eddie.
It was super fun to watch stranger things 4 late and say to myself, wow Eddie is so cute, I wonder if there’s any fics of him, then hop on tumblr and find out he's the internet's latest boyfriend. Happy to be here with you all.
“Hi, sweet boy,” you coo, squatting down to let the little black and white cat rub his face against your hand. When you place the plate down for him, he lets you keep petting him for a while before he goes for it, as if he knows that’s the price of the food you bring him each night.
You’ve been affectionately calling him Banjo, after the instrument that was playing in the bar the first time you saw him, when he was all skin and bones. His fur is softer and fuller since you first encountered him mewling by the dumpster behind the Hideout. Steady meals and a little love have brought back his willingness to groom himself. “You’re looking real cute these days, mister.”
“You really know how to make a guy jealous.” You jump at the sudden voice from behind, falling on your ass on the ground beside your stray friend. Banjo, who has become less jumpy the longer you’ve known him, doesn’t even look up from his dinner.
“Jesus Christ, Eddie!” You yell, pushing yourself up to stand, rubbing your hands on the front of your denim shorts.
You should have known he’d appear. He never let a Tuesday go by without talking to you, but you’d thought you could avoid him today. Banjo was probably here twenty minutes ago, waiting for you, but you kept yourself behind the bar until Eddie and his band were almost finished on the makeshift stage in the corner of the Hideout. You’d thought, foolishly, that he might take the hint and leave before you came back inside.
If he had, it would have guaranteed you another week of not going home with him.
“Didn’t mean to scare you,” he says in earnest, having the humility to look a little guilty. “Just wondering why the little guy gets all the compliments.”
You don’t answer, embarrassed that Eddie saw you acting like that. All soft for a dumb cat. He might get ideas about the kind of person you are.
“What are you doing out here, anyway?”
“Was looking for you. Wanted to tell you the big news,” he grins, widening his arms. “You are looking at a member of the Hawkins High graduating class of 1986. Got the diploma and everything.”
Your look is impassive. “Amazing to think what somebody can achieve in just ten years.”
“Only six, actually,” he corrects, joy unwavering. He watches you pick up Banjo’s plate and give him a couple long strokes down his back, standing to the side to keep the back door open and allow you through.
“So, what’s next, Eddie? Let me guess. MIT, right?”
It’s mean, you know it is. But you can’t help yourself when it comes to him.
When you first started working at the Hideout, the Summer after you yourself graduated, you tried keeping him at arm’s length gently. You were all one word answers for a while. But he could deal with that, easily. Half the kids in his club started like that. He’d coaxed every one of them out of their shell, building them up from shy, quiet boys to almost-men willing to stand on a shitty little stage and play their own music in front of a whole room of people who’d maybe rather they weren’t there.
So you’d changed tack. Instead, for the last year, you’ve been trying to beat him away. Trying to make it as clear as possible.
I’m not worth it. I’m not good for you. I won’t ever make you happy.
The success of this tactic had been hampered, you knew, by the way you let him take you back to his uncle’s trailer every once in a while.
“I’ve got plans,” Eddie’s eyes sparkle, more sure of himself than a new graduate has any right to be.
“And these plans involve continuing to play here every Tuesday,”
“Well, I know you’d miss our little chats,” he says. “Besides, we are technically supposed to get paid for playing here, and I haven’t actually seen Tommy in like two months?”
You hum. That sounds about right. Tommy had started to make a habit of letting you close up on Tuesdays, especially. “Try letting him smack your ass next time you see him,” you answer. “That usually puts him in a good enough mood to pay properly.”
Eddie makes a face like he’s considering it. “We’ll maybe make that Plan B.”
That almost earns him a smile, but you push it down. “Great, now, get out from behind the bar.”
Eddie bows his head a little like he’s apologising. He jogs round the bar, hair flying behind him before he settles himself on the stool across from you.
“Honey?” You glance down the bar at one of the regulars. “Can I get two beers for me and my buddy?”
“Uh-huh, which buddy’s that, Murphy?” He makes a non committal noise, gesturing vaguely behind him. “Yeah, nice try, but we agreed, three tops. This is the last one, then it’s Pepsi for the rest of the night, okay?”
He grunts, but doesn’t complain, just grabbing the open beer you hand him and returning to his place at the edge of the room.
You glance at Eddie, finding him smiling at you warmly. “So, what did you think of the show?”
You purse you lips, trying to look like you’re really thinking about it. “You certainly make me appreciate the talents of real musicians, Eddie.”
In truth, you admire Eddie and his friends, playing their music every Tuesday for an audience that barely realises they’re there. And it’s good; loud and real and alive. Stuff you’d listen to in the car, if you had one, and if they ever made a real record.
And you like watching him play, especially. Eddie has always had confidence you couldn’t believe, but when he’s got a guitar in his hands it’s like it has somewhere to go. The way he looks with his head thrown back, hair wild about his face. It’s half the reason you tried to avoid him tonight, knowing you were too worked up to say no if he asked to take you back to his.
“Your children are waiting on you,” you tell him, looking pointedly behind him at his bandmates who you know for a fact are too young to be in here. They’re watching both of you with the dumb grins boys get when their friends talk to a girl. God, you can believe he just graduated. This feels exactly like being in high school.
“I can, uh, give them a ride and come back for you, if you want,” he says, gently, scratching the side of his neck.
You swallow, knowing exactly what will happen if you let Eddie bring you back to his trailer. You mentally count how long it’s been since you let him touch you. At least a month. Longer, if the warmth between your thighs is any indicator.
This is the worst part. However you say it, accepting his invitation is telling him that you’re thinking about him, that you want him.
“Okay,” you say lightly. Looking away from his eyes, so intent on you.
“Yeah?” He grins, throwing his shoulders back and nodding. “Okay, I will see you at one then.”
You hum, still trying to make it seem like you don’t care either way. When he’s gone, you squeeze your eyes shut in embarrassment and regret. Fuck, why couldn’t you just tell him, once and for all, that you aren’t interested. He’d listen, you know he would. He wouldn’t like it, but if you really told him that you didn’t want to keep doing this, that he should stop talking to you, stop inviting you home, then he would.
You’re resigned to it, the rest of the night. Even as you’re flipping chairs on top of tables, you’re rehearsing what to say. Listen, I’m just gonna go home, you plan out every word in your head. I don’t think this is going where you want it to, Eddie, and we’ll both be better off if you leave me be from now on.
Only, there he is at the window, smiling and waving at you like an excited boy about to take you to prom.
He even opens the passenger door of his van for you.
The whole way, he talks at you easily, letting you wallow in silence. He tells you about his final month at high school, the way he’d clawed his way towards a D in English, which surprises you, given how much he reads.
It’s strange, listening to him talk about something that feels so long ago, now, for you. But you were there, together at one point, even if you never spoke to Eddie at all while you were. Different circles, different friends. Not that any of yours lasted past senior year. Eddie was the only person you talked to from school, these days.
It has you thinking, what it would have been like if you’d spoken to Eddie, properly, when you were in high school still. What would he have thought of you, if he knew you before life decided things were a little too good and kicked you in the teeth? Would he like you better without the jagged edges? Would you let him be sweet with you, outside of his bed, like he wants to be?
Eddie lets you into his trailer first, directing you straight to his bedroom, as always, after the one time Wayne had come home early. He hadn’t caught you on your knees for Eddie, the way you had been when you heard his car pull up in the middle of the night. But he had caught sight of you disappearing into the bathroom. He had seen Eddie standing there with your bra held behind his back, trying to casually untuck his shirt from his newly pulled up pants to cover the wet patch where you had pressed your mouth over the denim just to see him throw his head back.
It had taken him two months to get you here again.
“So, they both have girlfriends?” You ask, incredulous, breathing out smoke that already has you a little more relaxed, a little giggly with him. He’s telling you about the youngest in his group, and the weird way they try to one up each other when they talk about the girls that conveniently both live in different states.
“So they claim,” he nods, taking the offered joint from your fingers and resting it in the ashtray beside his bed. “Amazing how times change. Girls were certainly not impressed by guys that play fantasy games, when I was fifteen.”
You hum, not sure that’s true. You remember Eddie at fifteen. He was just starting to grow his hair out, and it looked crazy, sure. But his eyes were as they are now, big and expressive.
“Maybe not when you were fifteen, but don’t tell me you haven’t had a couple cheerleaders going through a rebellious phase in this bed over the years.” There’s a pause, and you catch Eddie glancing up at the ceiling. You howl a laugh. “I fucking knew it. Some metalhead you are. You liked the same girls all those basketball players were into.”
“No need to be jealous, sweetheart,”
That has you rolling your eyes, whether he’s right or not. “As if I’d be jealous of Hayley Matthews.” You watch his eyes for a twitch, any hint of being caught out, but he’s just watching you, unamused. “Olivia? Zoe Miller!” His expression is unflinching, increasingly frustrating you. You grab his wrist and squeeze. “C’mon, tell me!”
He tries to shake your hand off his wrist but you just hold on to it with the other, opening your mouth to try and irritate him more when he grabs your hands in his and presses them together, pinning them against your stomach. Arousal zings up your back, the wetness between your legs that has been there since he first strummed a chord at the bar suddenly much more noticeable.
None of this gets past Eddie, who shakes his head at you in disapproval, voice harsh. “You know, you’re getting kind of predictable, sweetheart.”
You rub your thighs together, anticipation making your head a little fuzzy already. You’re so close to getting what you want from him. In a second, he’ll flip you over and tug off your shorts, pull your hips up and bend himself over your back. Then he’ll give you his cock, and his groans in the air above your head. He’ll let you bite his sheets and smell him on them. Soon you’ll feel good and owned until your head is empty, like you want it.
Only, Eddie just lets your hands go, and backs away from you. You watch, fighting a pout as he stands by the bed and removes his t-shirt, grinning at the way your eyes dart between his tattoos, his necklace, then back to his face. He reaches for you, grasps your hips and this is it. But he’s not turning you over. He’s pulling you towards him, your ass almost hanging off the side of his mattress, his big hands resting on your hips. He lets you squirm and avoid eye contact for a second before he works the button of your shorts open, pulling them down your legs and off your feet. He throws them over his shoulder in a way that might make you laugh at him if he weren’t staring at you like that.
Eddie hums, hooking his arms under your legs to open them up for him. He leans his body over yours, and for a second you think he’s going to kiss you. But his lips find your neck instead, soft kisses he trails down to the neckline of your shirt. He shoves the fabric of it up, up and over your chest, face still pressed against your collar bone when he tucks his fingers into your bra to pull it down over your tits.
You let him do everything wordlessly, not exactly able to complain even if he’s doing this softer, slower than you normally get him to. His breath goes a little funny when he pulls back to glance at your chest, but he’s back to himself in a second, burying his face against the skin between your tits before he drags his lips up to pull at your nipple. You feel a little bit of teeth on the sensitive skin and whimper, pushing the heel of your hand into his sheets.
You moan outright when he rubs his thumb against your clit over your panties, digging the material between your lips. You feel his grin against the underside of your breast, then on the skin by your belly button and above your panties. “Eddie,” you say, trying to sound put together even as he has you ready to beg. “You don’t have to.”
He pulls your panties to the side with one hand and glides his fingers up your pussy with the other, stopping at your clit to give you a little rub with the rough pads of his guitarist fingers. “I can see that,” he answers, grinning and dropping to his knees by the edge of the bed. He pulls your panties further to the right and out to let him get his head where he wants it.
You cry out his name when he gets his mouth on you, immediately lifting your hips up and off the bed with your feet on the edge. You feel his laugh against your cunt as he presses you gently back down to the mattress. There’s no teasing, just his wet, soft tongue playing with your button, drifting down to give your hole a wide lick before he’s back looking after your clit.
Your hand is gentle, threading through the hair at the top of his head to hold him to you, even though he doesn’t even pull away for a second. You dare yourself to look away from his ceiling, down your own torso to his face between your legs, whining to find him with his eyes already on you.
You feel the tips of his fingers circling your hole, rubbing over your entrance before letting them glide inside, pressing immediately against the spot that has you throwing your other hand down to his hair and grasping him tighter.
Everything is numb but the pleasure building deep in your cunt, his soft hair between your fingers and your thighs. “Eddie,” you gasp, needing something, you don’t know what. You whine, wanting him to know what to do to make it happen for you, like he always does. “Eddie, please.”
He shakes his head between your thighs, his tip of his tongue bullying your clit, and then he’s pulling your hand from his hair. Turning his palm to yours, he curls his ringed fingers between yours, rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand.
You squeeze his big hand as he pushes you over, hips jerking against his face wildly. You cry out at the intensity of him still playing with your twitching button as the pleasure in that spot becomes unbearable. He gives your clit one final kiss, a little suction between his lips that has you slamming both your hands against the mattress repeatedly. When he takes his fingers from your pussy, you can feel the slick that follows them leaking out of you. Without hesitation, Eddie buries his fingers in his mouth, tongue dragging between them as he pulls them back out, already clean of you.
The other hand, still grasped in your own, he brings to his lips as he stands. He presses his swollen, wet lips to the back of it, along your knuckles.
When he untangles your fingers, your chest aches.
“C’mon,” he says, so gentle. “Want you naked.”
You pull your top over your head, relief at the new cool air on your heated skin almost overwhelming. Eddie focuses on getting your underwear off while you remove your bra, then he tugs your socks off your feet.
He smiles at you, tilting his head. His gaze moves over you, up from your swollen cunt to your face, which you’re sure is giving away everything you’re feeling. A little shock, some nerves. All your adoration.
“So pretty, all over,” he says, kissing your knee that’s still tucked up to keep you open for him. “Pretty cunt, pretty tits, pretty face,” he grins against your skin. “Pretty girl.”
You can’t help yourself when you giggle, feeling a little manic from what just happened. Eddie’s eaten you out before, lots. Before and after he’s had his cock in you. But not like that, never so gentle yet frantic, like he was desperate to do it, not to get you wet enough for him, but to make you feel legless and soft on his bed.
You miss his hand in yours.
The metallic jangle of his belt buckle has you shaking your hips in excitement, wanting him now, now, now.
“I know,” Eddie says, unzipping his pants and pushing them down over his narrow hips. His thick cock is flushed pink, his balls heavy and swollen and fuzzy with dark hair. The sight of his cock has you wrapping your hands around the back of your legs and pulling back, not even feeling judged or insecure when he laughs at your movement, but just more desperate.
Eddie takes some deep, slow breaths, wrapping his hand around his swollen cock and pulling the skin back over his wet, sticky head. You don’t know why you’re not telling him to hurry up, you’re feeling desperate enough for it. But it doesn’t feel like your place right now, to tell him what to do with himself, or with you.
Eddie watches your face as he drags the head of his cock up, his wide head catching your hole then pushing at your sensitive clit. Your mouth sits open, ready to moan when he finally gives it to you, but for now you’re just gasping, giving him little girlish whines that have his cock twitching in his hand.
He breathes out through his nose when he catches his cock against your entrance a final time, sliding himself into your wet, clenching cunt and groaning through his closed mouth.
You clasp onto his shoulders as he builds his pace, stroking himself in and out of you steadily, the wet sound of your cunt clasping onto him filling the room. His hair falls round the sides of his head, and you wish that he’d tuck it behind his shoulders so you could see his lovely face better.
He does, throwing his head back like a lion shaking its mane to get it out of his face, making you breathe a quick laugh. Eddie’s eyes are so soft on you, then, his hands gentle on your hips. “You wanted to see me, huh?”
He always knows.
“Mmm-hmm,” you whine, fingers digging into him.
“You like looking at me while I fuck you?” You shift your hips against his, dizzy with the questions when you don’t want to be thinking anymore, not when his cock is finally getting good use of your cunt like you wanted. “C’mon,” he murmurs, leaning over you, his face now close to yours. Oh, that makes you squeeze around him, enough that you see him pull his eyebrows together. “You like looking at me?”
“Yeah,” you whine, hoping that’s the last of it.
“You’re usually so mean to me,” he breathes, hand coming up to stroke the hair back from your forehead. You mewl at the stuttered thrusts he gives you, grasping him pleadingly. “So fucking mean all the time, but that’s okay.” He smiles at you, thumb stroking over the top of your cheek. “It’s what you need, so you can be good for me like this. Isn’t that right?”
You’re staring at his big eyes, your vision steadily blurring. “Yes, Eddie,”
“Yeah, I thought so, baby,” he coos, pressing kisses under your eyes. “And you’re so good for me when I get my cock inside you,” he nods you through your cry, letting you know it’s all okay. “So good for me when I touch you.”
“I wanna be good,” you tell him, feeling overwhelmed, but suddenly desperate for him to know.
“Oh, sweetheart,”
“I wanna be good, Eddie,” you cry, tears finally falling down the sides of your eyes. He hushes you, holding your face in his big hands, thumbs wiping the wetness away from your burning cheeks. You squeeze his shoulders, wanting him to kiss you.
It’s like he knows. He always fucking knows. Eddie presses his soft lips to yours, breathing in your cries from the constant movement of him over you, inside you. He draws his hips back, then up as he pushes in and oh God.
“Eddie,” you gasp.
“That’s it, yeah?” You nod desperately, reaching out almost blind through the tears in your eyes to find his hand and drag it to the top of your cunt, his laugh above you breathy. “I’ve got you,” Eddie says, letting you press his fingers to your clit. He flattens three of them against your sensitive button, rubbing in wide circles that have your thighs shaking.
You realise suddenly that you’ve been holding your breath, feeling it fall out of you in a wail. You stare at his face as the feeling builds, spreading from the spot the head of Eddie’s cock is dragging against with each thrust to your clit and up your spine. His cheeks are spotted pink, the hair covering his forehead frizzy but for where it’s sticking to his skin. His wide eyes are intent on yours as he nods. “C’mon,” he says, his cock twitching and you realise he needs you to get yours first. “Let me feel it, then I’ll give you my cum all over your little pussy, just how you like.”
Your whole body spasms when you come, your toes curling, your legs pushing up and out enough that Eddie has to put some effort into keeping you in place. He’s murmuring praise all the way through, telling you how good you are for him, how nice your little pussy feels clenching and pulling at his cock.
“You, now,” you say, encouraging him along, wanting to see him and feel the evidence of his pleasure on you.
Eddie gives a long groan, and you feel his cock twitch and flex inside before he drags himself from your hole. It sounds like it hurts to leave your warmth, and a little, insane, part of you thinks about telling him to put it back in and cum inside, if that’s what he wants.
But he’s already at the edge. You watch through hooded eyes as he plays with his cock over your sex, curling his body over yours and slapping his hand on the mattress by your head. You place your palm on the side of his neck and he kisses your wrist quickly, groaning against your skin when he comes, ropes of him landing on your wet, clenching pussy.
His hips twitch in the air as he coaxes out the final drops, letting himself rub his head against your sensitive clit, leaving his cum there even as your body twitches and jumps in protest.
Your hand keeps rubbing the side of his neck without you even thinking about it, drifting up to scratch at the back of his head when he falls into you, his face pressed into the skin between your tits. You feel a little numb all over, apart from the space when his warm breath is leaving your skin hot and wet.
Eddie kisses the inside of your breasts quickly, making to pull away but you’re grabbing him, wrapping your arms under his and around his torso.
“No, don’t go!” You cry, the thought of the cold air he’s about to let touch your skin making you shiver. The fear that he’ll laugh at you hits with intensity, but you only hear his harsh breaths mingling with yours.
“’m not going anywhere,” he assures you, kissing your chest again. “Just gonna get something to clean you up, then I’ll be right back, okay?” He nods, guiding you to nod too, loosening your arms a little. “Okay,” he breathes, pulling himself slowly from you.
You stare at the ceiling when he’s gone, legs left open like you’re keeping the space for him.
Your thighs shake when you feel a wet cloth, gentle and just cold enough to soothe your hot cunt. Eddie cleans around your thighs, which have been wet with you own slick the whole evening. His touch leaves you for a minute, then he’s back with a cool glass, hand on the back of your head, tipping water into your pliant mouth. Then, he’s pulling your boneless body up to sit and dragging a new t-shirt over your torso. The smell of him, smoke and masculine aftershave, embraces you, letting your already fuzzy brain float a little further away from any impending anxiety.
You feel the bed shift and creak, then he pulls you up the bed away from the wet patch you’ve left on the sheets, settling you against his chest as he leans upright against his pillows.
You drift a little at the feeling of his hand on your upper arm, gently stroking. Your eyes close, you don’t know for how long, maybe seconds, maybe minutes, but Eddie’s still there with a gentle caress.
You stare at the dark hair on his chest, trying to enjoy the afterglow even as shame starts to build in your chest. Your brain is already mocking you, for all the things you just said, all the things you let him coax from you.
And he knows.
"If you want, the fur ball can come live here."
You blink, not following at all, and you’re not sure if it’s the weed from earlier or Eddie himself that’s caused it. "What?"
"Yeah, Wayne wouldn't mind as long as he doesn't have to be the one to feed him," he says, looking like he’s thinking it through even as he speaks, and you remember he saw you with the cat.
“You mean you’d look after Banjo?” You ask without thinking, still staring at his chest, not even realising you just told him you went as far as giving the street cat you feed every day its very own silly pet name.
He keeps stroking the top of your arm. “Yeah, he could terrorise the birds in the woods to his fluffy little heart’s content.” Eddie’s fingers move, up and down, up and down. "And you could come visit him, I don't know, every day maybe."
Your breath is unsteady. Slowly, you let yourself rest your arm over his torso, almost hugging him.
"I think he would like that."
#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson fic#service top eddie munson#aka the real eddie munson#there is a cat that just lies on a dumped mattress on my street every day#and for weeks i'd walk past him at like 6am on my way to work and just like wave#then one day they gave me a proper meeow and ran right up to me and rubbed against my leg and and i felt hashtag blessed#and i was like hey that feels like a cool start to a fic#cause that's how i think#and then the cat became a real proper metaphor#like a metaphor that real writers use in this stranger things smut fic lmao#anyway#lov eddie he soft#(✿ ♡‿♡)💖#my stuff
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You've stated that you prefer your dragon designs to be primarily or solely reptilian. What are some examples of dragon designs that blend in characteristics of non-reptilian animals that you actually like?
Hmmm... I don't know if I should answer this. It feels like an invitation for strangers on the internet to try and convert me to liking mammalian and avian dragons more than reptile ones. They do it all the time, you know. They howl outside my window at night, screaming for me to change my ways. I've had to board up the windows to keep them from clawing their way in, talons sharp and teeth gnashing. They won't stop howling. They want me to be different than I am. They want me to think dragons are better with fur and feathers. It's horrible. One threatened to drink my eyeball fluids.
Anyway, whenever I make a joke exaggerating my feelings about dragons for comedy, someone always pipes in to defend the Rankin Bass take on Smaug as good, so I feel like I should lead with this one. I'm a self professed slut for Rankin Bass's fantasy films, so I feel like the fact that I like this design should go without saying, but just to put fears to rest, here's me saying yes, I like it. As dragons with mammal traits go, this is One of the Good Ones In My Book. I like him, he looks cool.
I feel like Haku is also one that should go without saying, but here I am, saying it. I can't say Haku doesn't look cool - he's basically a wolf snake, and Miyazaki knows damn well how to make wolves look cool as hell, and also animates a damn good snake. Would I like him a bit more if he was scaly instead of furry, the way Asian dragons usually are in art? Uh... yeah, honestly, I would, but the fur works here. It fits what Haku is going for, and sells him as something not quite natural while still representing several aspects of nature. It's a divergence from the reptile look with purpose, and it's done well.
Why am I defending this again, I've spent so much of my life defending scaly dragons, I feel like furry dragons kinda don't need help being popular.
Is including Toothless cheating? Originally I felt his cat features were blended thoroughly with distinctly lizardy features (spcifically agamid lizards like bearded dragons and the like), but in the sequels I think he subtly but noticeably shifted to be more and more catlike. He might not have fur, but by the end of the series I think there's not much that's reptilian in him beyond the long tail and scaly skin. Nevertheless, Toothless is really cute and I love him.
Other non-reptilian dragons I like... well, there's this one drawn by Michael Hague that, according to the story it was made for, is ultimately a big cat monster wearing iron armor. And look at him, how can you hate that face?
Is that enough? Have I shown an open mind enough yet? Can I go back to vocally preferring dragons that are big lizards and snakes now? I'm gonna go do that anyway, actually.
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Ask Etiquette
HELLO sorry for the intimidating post lmao, I just need something to toss up on the masterpost because I feel bad deleting asks and then people will never really have an idea of why I never answered them
I get a ton of asks (usually anywhere from 10 - 20 a day!) and I'm not able to get to them all! I try to answer as many as possible but I'm still just one guy. So with that in mind, there are some sorts of asks I will simply not answer, and some 'requests' I have for people who send them in;
Please keep your asks short
PLEASE try not to send me essays if you want a response; I still love reading them! But if you send me walls of text/analysis you are asking me to write a lot in response, which I'd rather spend on actually writing or designing cats.
(On that note if you send a bunch of questions at once, the likelihood I respond goes down.)
Do not send me personal questions
Listen... I'm a stranger on the internet. I'm overjoyed to see when my art connects with people and helps you realize things! But don't ask me sensitive questions like how to move out of your abusive parents' house!! PLEASE learn internet safety and get less comfortable with volunteering that kind of information to people you don't know!
Do not ask me personal questions
you do not need to know what i study or where i work. get less comfortable asking these sorts of questions to queer people on the internet, especially when they talk openly about having previously been abused or stalked.
(not that a person should even need to be as open about that as i am)
If I don't have a good response I won't answer
Especially for suggestions I don't vibe with. I try to only say "No" if I have a particularly interesting "No" to talk about, if that makes sense! If I had to write a full explanation for every veto or idea I don't vibe with, this blog would be 90% what isn't in BB.
No AUs within the AU.
"What if Hawkfrost survived his impalement? What if Firestar never joined? What if Tigerstar was never born?" Listen, buddy, you're creating an exponential distraction for possible ways the story could have gone and I'm not looking to write several essays for the literal hundreds of alternative ways Clan history could have been written. It takes you 5 words to ask "What if X never died" but it takes me paragraphs to answer.
(This isn't about suggestions btw, I very specifically mean ppl asking hypotheticals for fun.)
Don't be rude.
I feel like this should go without saying but please mind the parasocial gap. Especially if you're on anon, I don't know you, your backstory, or your cadence.
And, lastly, CLANMEW ASKS!!
I make a hard effort to get to everyone!! Those are published on Clanmew Day (WHICH IS NOW JUST GOING TO BE THE 30TH OF EVERY MONTH SO THAT IT'S LESS CONFUSING) but PLEASE understand I get a ton of them.
As I write this I have more than 26 tabs open of unanswered Clanmew asks, a lot more in my inbox, and 9 already in the queue. So that you understand the sheer volume of asks I have there.
If I didn't get to you that month, chances are that I'll get to you on the next, but please understand why I ask for folks to not re-send asks
So here's Clanmew-specific requests;
PLEASE just try a translation on your own first!
Don't just send me raw lists of OCs to translate, give it a go first using the Lexicon, just so I can see you tried. I will happily and gladly make more specific words for you when I see you try!
When you send OCs you've translated, ask me for a new word at the end if you didn't already in your list.
Just in case I can't think of a witty comment or a word suggestion, you will help me a lot
Please try to format with lists like this one
Folks will send me double or triple-indented lists and it will take up my entire screen when they've only sent like, 5 names. Remember that posts you send to me go on people's dashes, be considerate please
You can open a list like this by starting a new paragraph, typing -, and then an immediate space. Hold Shift + Enter to indent without adding another bullet.
If you could put "Clanmew" somewhere in your ask, like even if you open up with "Clanmew: Here is my question blah blah," it would help immensely
I physically can't get to every ask I receive on Clanmew Day, so if you have "Clanmew" in your ask somewhere, it makes it a lot easier for me to find it when I can finally answer! I really wish Tumblr had ways to sort asks, but currently, I've just gotta make due with Cntrl + F.
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Hiya!
I saw this tiktok and it made me swoon over the idea of modernpilot!Eddie bc this whole thing feels so eddie coded (not necessarily a request I just needed someone to gush over this with)
https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTLrYCxab/
- @gaylittlenerdsblog 💗
clickable link
oh my GOOOD, this story has popped up all over my fyp and you're right - it is so eddie 😭genuinely it's so sweet and i literally adore the idea. and the fact that i headcanon eddie as more of a cat person makes the entire thought so much sweeter 😭
like imagine him stumbling upon you posting about your current situation, obviously very sad and devastated, and the man sees it and he just can't seem to scroll past it. he doesn't even like dogs that much - he prefers his temperamental cat at home far more than any dog he's ever met - but he can see how much you love your dog and he knows he can help. and it's an insane idea, one that he tries to ignore for several nights, but he just can't stop thinking about it. he'd be pacing his apartment thinking about it until he finally takes the plunge and dms you about it. finds himself a nervous wreck until you respond so kindly and excitedly, brimming with gratitude as the two of you work out how to put his spontaneous plan into actual action. obviously you two would be talking quite a bit in the days leading up and well- he can't tell if he's warming up to your dog from the sweet videos and photos you send, or if he's warming up to the sound of your giggles and 'pet voice' you use in the background of said videos. and don't even get me started on his reaction to finally meeting and how he'd make an absolute fool of himself in front of you that morning when you meet up to do what he'd previously thought might be impossible or just be such a stupid idea. fumbling over himself, stuttering, blushing at all your kind words that pour out. watching you love on your dog in real time. he never stood a chance, and suddenly, he's got a damn crush on this stranger from the internet and he's actually liking your damn dog which is just ridiculous but god is it the dog who's cute as hell or is it just you.
anyways when your dog meets his cat and they actually get along he nearly faints from the cuteness and realizes he's never letting you go. 😭 lord give me the strength because eddie munson is a softie at his core and his whole 'gathering up sheepies' definitely extends well past just the high schoolers he took under his wing - apparently, it'll even extend to a four-legged yapper and his gorgeous owner with a heart of gold.
(this is one of those posts that went to the drafts graveyard for some reason and i am truly offended. i want everyone to think of pilot!eddie. what the hell tumblr.)
#thank u ily <3#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#i love this so much#SOOOOO much#i'm so sorry i didn't get to gush with you immediately over this i don't know what happened :(#tumblr said 'you're getting too invested in this absolutely not'#was i silent or was i SILENCED?
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MY INTRO BABYYYY🗣️🗣️🔥🔥🔥⁉️⁉️💥💥💥⁉️
My name is Frank and I go by all pronouns; they/he commonly used because I slay.💅
I currently identify with Abrosexuality (?) but watch that change in like ten minutes.😍
I'm a minor so ⚠️GO AWAY IF YOU'RE YOUNGER THAN 13 OR OLDER THAN LIKE 17.⚠️
I'm a little neuro-spicy and my hyperfixations are Stranger Things, Byler, and Conan Gray.😎
I would describe myself as very stupid and rude, but if you dont seem hostile i'd probably be chill.
My favorite movie is The Little Prince, my favorite show is Stranger Things (what a surprise😱), and my favorite song is tied between "Red Wine Supernova" by Chappell Roan, or "Awake" from Celeste.
I would say my dream closet would be 'grunge' mixed with 'cottagecore' but, at the current moment, all I wear is tee shirts and pajama pants.
My hobbies include drawing, playing (more like fiddling with) a couple instruments, listening to music, PETTING ALL THE CATS💪, contemplating life, and watching Stranger Things on loop.🫶
About my blog: you should absolutely expect all Byler but sometimes i stray from them for the occasional non related silly.
New section🤯🤯:
🚫Do Not Interact If: pro israel, racist, noah supporter, transphobic, homophobic, or misogynistic.🚫
All in all, don't interact if you're someone to hate on people for doing something causing no harm, mentally or physically.
Alsoooo PLEASEEE send asks about stuff because i'm really bored and i love devoting my life to pointless ships on the internet. <3
YOU GUYS SEEM NICE SO I HOPE A MAKE A TON OF FRIENDS HERE🔥🔥
#byler#stranger things#mike wheeler#will byers#mcrmy#mcr#drawing#artist#fun fact i was watching ratatouille while writing this#RATATOUILLE#cats#ALSO HARRY POTTER SLAYS#byler tumblr
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"Rain"
Choi San X Reader
Synopsis: You have always hated the rain, yet you met him under it.
genre & warnings: fluff, hint of angst, cursing, strangers to friends to lovers au
word count: 912
requested by: @xddjoong
You have never appreciated the droplets of water that falls down from the sky.
It disrupts the cycle that you call 'happiness.'
Rain signifies sadness and a gloomy atmosphere, that is why you have always preferred the sunny days, or any other weather.
Just like that one time where you were supposed to meet up with your friends, while you were walking to the place of rendezvous, it started raining cats and dogs.
You had to run your ass off under a huge oak tree, branches and leaves thick enough to cover you from the shower.
I mean, you could go to the nearest café but you're lazy and taking refuge in there means you have to buy something in return. (which you won't cuz you're broke enough as it is)
Yet you also met him under the rain, the guy with slanted eyes and deep dimples, handing you a steaming cup of coffee and smiling at you brightly.
"Here."
A voice from behind you caught you off guard. Turning your heels at the source, you were greeted by wet hair and joyful expression, his arm extended to offer you a drink.
You raised an eyebrow while looking at the man cautiously, "What's that?"
He returned the gesture to you, "Obviously a hot beverage. You looked cold, and it seems like you need some company out here."
Until now, you still think of what might happen if you didn't accept the drink.
Will he insist or leave you alone?
Either way, that time, you gratefully received it because as much as you don't like interacting with strangers, you really did need some warmth.
You think that was a coincidence, but the second time it happened, standing and conversing with him under that oak tree during the downpour, maybe it was fate working its magic.
Fate in the shape of a man named Choi San, especially when he admitted to you the secret that he had been hiding.
"You what?!" you shrieked at him, eyes quaking and disbelief written in your face that only made him laugh.
"I said," he leaned in closer to you, "I approached you on my own that day. I had an umbrella, but I ditched it and bought a cup of coffee for you."
You were at a loss for words, "What the fuck was that supposed to mean?"
He shrugged nonchalantly, pulling back a bit and looking away momentarily before speaking again, "I guess you look interesting and I want to spend more time with you."
Silence ensued.
"As a friend."
It was baffling to say the least, the story of how you and San became the best of friends.
Attached to the hip and you love each other like siblings. Well that's what you thought.
You hang out daily with him under the tree turns into something more of a 'date.'
Picnics, sharing stories, gossiping, eating and drinking, until all of those evolved into hugs, hand holding and soft kisses on the forehead and cheeks.
All of these moments, paired with the fact that most people would mistake the two of you as a couple, made you realize what you really feel about him.
Like at the present, your hand toying at his fingers and your neck craned to fully examine his sleeping figure on the blanket.
He looks so peaceful, devoid of any negativities that always bring you comfort.
You have read this one quotation on the internet, "Home is a person."
You used to think that it was a hoax yet it was proven true to you when San came into your life like a floating cloud.
He is the nicest guy you could ever wish for, sweet and gentleman yet he also had this energetic and goofy side.
He always asked for your permission or opinion when he had to do something that is in line with you.
He always listens to you attentively, learning and memorizing every detail of you, be it an intangible or tangible aspect of your being.
"Take a picture, it'll last longer." he mumbled all of a sudden, and you took notice that you have been staring at him longer that you had intended.
"Whatever." you rolled your eyes, detaching you hands but he was quick to pull it back in his grasp.
"Nope, you ain't going anywhere lady." he sat down properly, eyes fixated on you as he tried to pull you closer to him.
"San." you voiced out rather shakily and he only responsed with a hum.
Okay, it's now or never.
The surge of confidence and courage in your veins made you talk before you could even register it.
"You know, I think I like you."
Your statement dawned on you and you hastily sputtered out more words, a flurry of incoherent sentences coming out of your mouth.
"It's not like we have to date yeah, and I totally understand if you're seeing someone and gosh I'm so sorry for telling you this a-"
You were cut off when he engulfed you in a tight hug, backing off a bit after a few seconds.
He gave you a wide grin, his eyes are shining and something about it made your poor heart rate spike up.
San cupped your cheeks, and you can't help but reminisce the past.
"You dummy. Aren't we already dating?"
You have always hated the rain, but during that, your destiny took place and led you to the love of your life.
#ateez imagines#ateez#ateez smut#ateez scenarios#ateez fluff#ateez x reader#ateez fanfic#ateez angst#ateez au#ateez reactions#ateez san#ateez choi san#choi san#san x reader#san imagines#san smut#san fluff#san angst#san fanfic#san scenarios#choi san imagines#choi san smut#choi san fluff#hongjoong imagines#seonghwa imagines#yunho imagines#yeosang imagines#wooyoung imagines#jongho imagines#mingi imagines
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Have you been thinking that there's a real lack of hopeless strangers on your dash asking for help lately? ☆Congratulations, I have arrived!☆
I feel obligated to a certain level of jesterdom while doing this, like perhaps I can earn my keep by entertaining people. It's bleak and humiliating, but we're gonna Have Fun With It! :D This is perhaps more a note to make to self and to a therapist rather than note here, but it segues well into the important point of:
~.•°¤.°•○~☆ I Can't Afford Shit ☆•*.°○.•°*×
let alone a therapist
I'm currently stuck in a weird position, both physically and situationally, because I have some sciatica scoliosis spinal bone spur nonsense that decided that now was its time to shine. I'm in pain all the time at every angle and position, so I'm not doing Great?
I'm in the middle of the process of filing for disability and if you've ever applied for a job and been frustrated that you gave them all of your information and then the application asked you to give them the same information all over again, applying for disability is like doing that, but times 40, and with information you don't have memorized the way you have your phone number and home address. They also insist on doing it through the mail. My next step is to be evaluated by some kind of impartial physician. My appointments are in mid to late July. I am unsure what they want me to do with myself until that time.
The work I'm trying to do is not enough. I'm making buttons like crazy but in the end they are just buttons and they sell for 2 to $4 and so you really need to be someone who is absolutely psyched about buttons and buys 40 of them or I need to tap into a market that is Larger in order for this to be reliably sustaining. I do not know what that market is. I was the weird kid in school - what is popular, I don't know, I was never meant to know, it is a mystery.
Do not get me wrong, I am currently holding my face above water because of some really enthusiastic fans of buttons.
But I can't sell a month's rent worth of buttons. I don't even think I have the supplies to make that many.
My rent is USD$670, which is hiked up an extra $70 from where it was last year because my landlord wanted to bleed me dry while the world is on fire. Despite how poorly insulated and badly maintained this house is as a structure, I do enjoy having even a badly insulated roof and a place to put all my shit.
If you've got a need for $700 worth of buttons for some reason, hit me up.
If you don't, then hey, I'm another artist in crippling pain on your dash hoping people in better situations than I can help out. I would love to cover my rent to remove that anxiety for myself for another month, but Every Bill keeps happening, so more beyond that it going to my electric which hasn't been paid since February, and my internet which will keep me afloat in nearly every way possible. I'm also almost at the bottom of the bag of Science Diet food that keeps my beloved cat, Onyx, healthy. I do not know how best to keep a ticker tape of a goal, because there isn't one? I need to survive until at least July. It's June 17th as I write this. Two months rent and some cat food? Don't know, I'm five minutes from a phone call which will determine if they will still allow me food stamps.
SO.
Ways in which I can dance for your amusement so that you may throw coins in my direction:
Art Commissions! I can paint like a motherfucker! I have an extremely ill-advised expensive piece of paper saying I can do it!
Check it out, man. There are COLORS and everything.
Radical.
I have a Patreon where you can see Secrets!
And a Ko-fi! I sell buttons on Ko-fi, in case you were wondering when that plot point would come back. It's not very satisfying narratively, I am sorry. Thinking about offering prints there, as well!
I have other options in my sidebar - RedBubble, Society6, etc!
There is also paypal.me/ladyyatexel if you just want to give money to my literally actually broken ass without getting a cool item in return.
And yes, if you're thinking this all looks and feels kinda familiar, I had to dance and beg on the internet in Dec 2021, and I made that go as far as I possibly could. It's six months later and everything I'm trying to do to better my situations is just taking Forever. I'm trying to come up with a way to stay afloat while rescuing myself takes its time.
Thanks for reading if you made it this far, friend. Even just knowing someone listened to you yelling for a minute is helpful.
No need to feel obligated, especially if you don't feel I deserve a second round of help, I understand. But if you wanna spread this around and let me 'Will Art For Food' on someone else's dash, that would be sick.
Take care of yourselves, friends, it is brutal out there.
#assistance#help#in need of help#donations#art commissions#i don't think any of these tags are actually going to work because of the links womp womp
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As a woman who is 30 years old, I’d like to say I think I know a thing or two about myself. I’ve had the “ability to get pregnant “ for 2 decades now and going on my 3rd. I remember vividly when I got my first menstrual cycle my mother was almost a little too happy about it. She went on and on about now being able to create a life and carry inside. For as long as I can remember have never had any want or desire to take care of children or to have my own. I remember saying to her that I did not want to be a “young woman” and did not want to be “able to make a child.” I was 10 at the time and she had just laughed at what I said. And for many years after that, she continued to scoff and roll her eyes at the thought of me not wanting to be a mother.
Growing up I did not like hanging out with children my age. I always wanted to be with the adults. I have never looked at a mother and thought gee I want that. Nothing about motherhood interests me. Not getting pregnant. The act of childbirth. Taking care of the said child. Or dealing with school functions, recitals, games, and or anything to do with child events.
I do not wish any ill or pain to any children. I get mad when I hear or see mistreatment. But do I wish to step into the role to fix it, no.
I grew up with parents that I do not believe should have had children. They were young and children themselves at the time. My mom was pregnant at 18 and again at 19 and again at 21. That always seemed nuts to me.
I remember being forced against my will to take care of my cousins growing up. Did not appreciate. I understand that adults need time but I am not your resident babysitter especially when I was 16 or so when that shit would happen.
Growing up in LV I would always see large families of unruly children and it always upset me. The lack of supervision of the kids I truly did not understand. I know that kids are still learning but as an adult and their parent you should be teaching them right from wrong. Right? Your child should not be screaming at the top of their lungs because you didn’t want to buy them a stupid toy. Your child is not supposed to be climbing up strangers and asking for what they are eating. Don’t you touch them stranger danger???
Kids are gross to me. They shit on themselves. They throw up on themselves. They piss on themselves. They always get dirty no matter what. They smell. I don’t understand why they are always sticky. It is just not for me.
I do not have the patience nor do I want to gain the patience. I feel for kids the way someone might feel about animals. Some people are not pet-friendly people. Which I get. I am not too crazy about dogs. I prefer dogs over kids. And I prefer cats over dogs.
Just a rant. I got to the point where I am tired of acting like I can just suffer in silence with children around when I can’t. They are too loud for my comfort. Top hyper and active for my comfort. Hate when I catch one just staring at me. Like no. I can not.
I can choose to avoid them as much as possible and that is what I want to do. No offense to any parents. I just feel indifferent to every child.
Now that I have explored social media and just the internet I know that I am not alone. I am a child-free woman who does not like children. Just because I have ovaries and a fucking vagina does not mean I automatically love children and want to step into a role to take care of them and love them.
Plenty of people become parents that should not be. Plenty of people wish to be one but can’t. Life is shitty sometimes. I doubt my thoughts of children will change since I am 30 and it has never floundered but who knows.
I am done faking a smile when your annoying child annoys me. Will I be mean to them no but I will walk away and not engage. I think my patience is at negative at this point in my life.
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literally what makes the aristocats bad. its got nice songs. it has silly characters. it’s got really pretty backgrounds and the old hand-drawn disney animation. it’s inspired by a true story. what’s there to dislike.
(*cough* aside from the racism that permeates most if not all of the old Disney movies but since that’s present in so many of them no special case should to be made against the aristocats for it to be a worse movie because of that shared trait *cough*)
also I hope this didn’t come across as like. confrontational or anything bc it’s not supposed to be. legitimately want to hear your thoughts 👍
No, I love this! I appreciate being asked my thoughts, especially since the good people in the tags have told me loud and clear that I am in the minority on this one.
I will say, I did not expect the poll to have quite the legs it's got on it now. My polls usually only get about 60 votes. If I'd known 4,700 strangers and counting would have an opinion on this, I might have worded it differently. The real reason I didn't include The Aristocats is because I knew it would run away with the thing. Most people consider it a classic, regardless of what my opinions on it actually are. I thought throwing in a cheeky little line about it would be a fun gag for my followers who know I'm a true hater at heart.
Before I even got this ask - and because the overwhelming majority of the tags on the poll are telling me I have no taste - I actually did start rewatching it! Hundreds of strangers on the internet have never been wrong before, right? Part of the problem is I have next to no nostalgia for it. We didn't own the VHS when I was a child, so the only times I ever saw it were when I'd go to a friend's house or borrow it from the library. Maybe my judgement was clouded by not having seen it in a very long time.
First things first: The good stuff. There are parts of this film that rank alongside the best of the Disney classics, and I would be remiss in not mentioning them.
The music, for one, is pretty good. You'd have to be some kind of real Scrooge not to enjoy "Ev'rybody Wants to Be a Cat" of course, but on a rewatch I did find myself grinning through "Thomas O'Malley Cat" as well. This is an easy point in the film's favor though, as I'm an absolute sucker for both big band and jazz. This is great use of your Scatman Crothers and Phil Harris, top points awarded for these two numbers in particular.
The animation is also pretty good. Especially on Edgar and Thomas O'Malley. Your mileage may vary on the Xerox style, but the animation itself is relatively unimpeachable. This was still during the era of the Nine Old Men, so there's all kind of impressive work being done with the big sweeping things like character movement and expression as well as in the more subtle animations like expressions and mouth movement.
The cats are doing all the cat stuff you'd expect like licking their paws and poof'ing their tails, but there's less expected movements here too, like arching their backs when walking alongside things or rolling in the dirt to dry off from the river. This is good character work, but it's also pretty standard for guys like Milt Kahl and Eric Larson. If you're at all interested in animation, I highly encourage you to read more about the Nine Old Men and their history with the studio.
(A big thanks to the tumblr gif artists for gif'ing the parts of this movie that look good so I can spice this post up with some relevant visuals!)
Now, the bad. Like many movies from this era, The Aristocats has something of a pacing problem. While it is necessary to do the work of setting up the conflict in the beginning, you might be surprised to learn that it takes 25 minutes for Thomas O'Malley to show up, which is when the story actually starts.
A huge part of the problem is that this movie suffers from a sort of directionless vignetticism that seems to have been driven only by the idea that it would be cute to see the animals do X, Y, and Z. "Oh wouldn't it be sweet to see the kitten paint?" "Wouldn't it be so adorable if the cat played the piano?" "Ohh, what if the mouse ate a cracker dipped in milk, wouldn't that be darling?" I have a very high tolerance for schmaltz, but The Aristocats is where even I must draw the line.
When the movie isn't being tooth-rottingly sweet, it's frequently boring, and when it's not being either of those things it's showing you another chase scene with the dogs and the butler. It's erratic, tiring, and strains the limits of the modern attention span even at the movie's incredibly sparse runtime. It's a 79 minute film and you feel all 79 of those minutes.
Tonally, much of the movie smacks of the kind of rose-tinted sentimentalism Disney was known (and even criticized at the time) for, but without the guiding hand of the man himself, nearly 5 years gone by this point. The studio was floundering in the wake of Walt's death, and The Aristocats is quite close to the nadir of this particular creative valley - though the distinction arguably goes to Robin Hood, I'm much softer on that film for a number of reasons.
The Aristocats reminds me a lot of Lady & the Tramp, in that it's the same story (down to the aforementioned racist caricatures of Siamese cats), but with cats instead of dogs and with a much less focused sense of purpose, tone, and creative direction. If you like The Aristocats for the music and the beautiful scenery, but you haven't seen Lady & the Tramp, give that one a try instead. The animation is better, the music is about on-par, and it doesn't have as many stupid chase scenes. Or just watch 101 Dalmatians, which outstrips both films on sheer charm alone.
I think I had more I wanted to say, but it was mostly rambling that got away from the point. On rewatch, I don't think this movie is as bad as I remember it being, but I stand by my decision not to include it in the poll.
tl;dr - The Aristocats isn't the worst. If you grew up watching it I totally understand having a soft spot for the music and the atmosphere. In a vacuum, I can't say I think it holds up but ultimately I'm not going to judge anyone for enjoying it. Thanks for the ask!
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On The Wing - Chapter 1
https://open.spotify.com/track/0RLwgks1gHQzXeIkaJIpHr
Next Chapter ┃
˚ * •̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙* ˚＊------💜 💚 💜------＊* •̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙ *
°•★Pairing: Bucky Barnes x femaleartist!reader
°•★Rating: NSFW (this chapter is SFW future ones won’t be)
°•★Tags: strangers to lovers, fluff, angst, first meetings, romantic tension, flirting, pet names (doll, sweetheart), brief homophobia mentions, bisexual reader
°•★ Words: 1755
°•★ Notes: It’s me, ya girl back with some more x y/n fanfic!! This is gonna be 6 chapters altogether, already written, all based on a song I haven’t been able to get out of my head for weeks now. I hope you enjoy!! I had a lot of fun with this AU.
No beta, literally just finished writing it, all mistakes are mine.
//CW FOR THIS CHAPTER// There is a brief mention of y/n being disowned by her family for being bisexual.
~All writing unless otherwise noted is my own. Please do not post or reupload my work to other websites without my express consent. I do not consent for my fics to be used in AI creations. I do not own any of the characters featured in my works unless they are stated to be OCs.~
All of my fanworks are intended for adults aged 18 and up only! Minors please DNI.
ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48744160
˚ * •̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙* ˚＊------💜 💚 💜------＊* •̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙ *
Breathe and ill carry you away
Into the velvet sky
And we’ll stir the stars around
And watch them fall away
Into the Hudson Bay
And plummet out of sight and sound
The open summer breeze
Will sweep you through the hills
Where I live in the alpine heights
Below the northern lights
I spend my coldest nights
Alone awake and thinking of
The weekend we were in love
—------------------------------------------------
Unpacking. You always hated unpacking, hated everything to do with moving into a place, for that matter. You never intended on staying for long, and it felt like such a chore. Often, you would choose to simply live out of suitcases, but you had always had somewhere else to go, some next destination in mind. But not this time.
Things had been going well when you arrived in Calgary. Your paintings were selling, your busking was lucrative enough to afford you a nice little studio apartment in the city. You didn’t need much after all. A place to stay, food in your belly, and your art supplies - you would rather save your money for experiences, and for getting you to that next destination.
For years, you were living your dream, traveling the world, making art. You got by mostly via selling your wares at fairs and on streetcorners - paintings, jewelry, pottery when you could access a studio to use. Sometimes you did custom work on commission. It was amazing how many people wanted portraits of their cats and dogs, you always thought.
Then the recession hit. Unemployment spiked, wages stagnated, and layoffs were sweeping their way through the Americas, leaving many struggling just to make ends meet. People weren’t buying luxury goods the way they used to, and before you knew it, you were struggling too.
There was nothing else for it, so you found whatever jobs you could - which, as a person who had spent the last seven years of their life as a transient artist, traveling the world with no real work history or credentials, relegated you mostly to minimum wage work, or labor jobs that weren’t as picky about the people they hired.
You had to move out of the city and found a small town up in the mountains and an even smaller one-bedroom house that was being rented out at a ridiculously low price due to it being relatively isolated - a 20-minute drive from the town proper, surrounded by deep forests. Dirt road, no cell service, satellite TV, and internet - for most it would be undesirable at best. For you, it was a respite from a world that no longer seemed to have a place for you.
It never really felt like it did - you grew up as a military brat, constantly moving from place to place, never setting down roots, never making lasting friendships. You were the black sheep - of your family as well as every school you had ever gone to. The weird girl, the one nobody really understood.
But you had your art, and you had your dreams - you wanted to see the world, to drink in life and put it on a canvas. You were counting the days until you turned 18 and could leave, but you didn’t get that far.
Your family had kicked you out, disowned you at the age of 17, after catching you and your at-the-time girlfriend, holding hands and smooching on the back porch when you thought no one was home. Her family would have done the same to her if they had found out - so with nowhere else to go, you struck out on your own. And it had gone well - until the financial crash sent the world into a tailspin, that is.
There wasn’t much to unpack, all told. Three suitcases and an oversized canvas bag into which you stuffed your entire life - clothes, art supplies, rolled-up canvases pulled from their frames to make it easy to travel. Some sparse camping supplies for those nights you couldn’t find a better place to sleep. You had been doing this long enough that you had it down to a science, and you were very efficient.
Clothes were stuffed into drawers, toiletries into the bathroom, and the metal cups and plates and cutlery you traveled with barely taking up any space in the kitchen.
You had little in the ways of personal effects, save for the photographs you took and the small handful of trinkets you had collected in your journeys. Stones, little sculptures, silly magnets and keychains, and shot glasses documenting all the cities and countries you had been to.
You laid them out on top of the dresser in the bedroom and, with a wistful sigh, flopped down onto the bed with your back against the headboard, stacks of little plastic envelopes, and started flipping through the pictures you had taken, reminiscing on those better, brighter days. It was a pleasant enough way to pass the time, and it brought a small smile to your face, gave you a way to forget your current circumstances - for a while at least. Until you landed on the album that you usually avoided looking at - New York City. The place where you had met, and lost, the only man you had ever loved.
—------------------------------------------------
You were at Coney Island one bright and beautiful day - it had been a lucrative few days so you decided to reward yourself. It was early, and Luna Park was just beginning to fill up with guests, shouts and laughter, and excitement buzzing in the air around you. As you walked along the midway, only some of the game stands were up and running, while others had workers bustling around them, still setting up. As you passed nearby one of those, a group of children rushed past, knocking into you, the nearest employee, and one of the legs of the awning that the employee had been about to secure.
It buckled at one of the joints as he fell, and the entire metal sheet came crashing down. You screamed and tried to scramble away when a strong set of arms wrapped around your waist and yanked you, forcefully out of the path of the falling awning just in time.
Whoever it was had grabbed you from behind, setting you down gently on your feet and taking hold of your forearms as he did so to make sure you were steady before letting you go.
“That was a close one… you alright there, doll?”
Something about the gentleness of that voice and the soft, gravelly undertone struck you, and your stomach did a little jump as you turned around to face your rescuer only to be left momentarily speechless at the sight of him. He was tall, handsome, with bright blue eyes that seemed to pierce right through yours.
“... I- I think so.” You stammered, your mouth suddenly feeling very dry. You saw over his shoulder the employees now battling with the awning, which had bent badly in its impact against the side of the building, and the building itself now bearing deep dents in the surface where the edges had collided with it.
“God, if you hadn’t been here…” You looked up at him in shock, a shudder running through your body. Adrenaline still flooded your system as you realized just how much danger you had been in moments before. “That thing might have killed me…”
“Right place, right time I guess.” He grinned, the smile slipping from his face as he noticed the way you were shivering as shock set in. “Oh hey…sweetheart, you’re shaking. Here… let’s find a place to sit down.”
You mutely nodded and took his offered arm, letting the man lead you over to a nearby outdoor dining area and guide you to one of the unoccupied tables.
“Here - can I get you anything? Maybe some water?” he asked gently.
Chewing on your lip for a moment of indecision, you eventually nodded sheepishly. “Yes, please…”
“Say no more.”
Before you could formulate any words of protest he was off, leaving you with a few moments to catch your breath and reorient yourself while he waited in line. By the time he returned your heart rate had calmed at least slightly, and he slid the little plastic cup across the table to you to drink.
Your hands were still shaking as you raised the cup to your lips - the water certainly helped with your dry throat, though you still weren’t sure if that was the fault of the scare or the absolutely gorgeous man sitting across from you at the small metal table.
“I don’t think I got a chance to properly introduce myself back there.” The man said with a crooked grin, extending a hand across the table to shake yours. Calloused fingertips slid over your knuckles as you clasped his hand, sending a spark of electricity up your arm.
“James Buchanan Barnes, at your service. You can call me Bucky, though. All my friends do.”
Giving him your name in turn you raised a brow at him, managing to not sound like a babbling idiot. “Are we friends now, then? We have only just met…”
“Well, I saved your life back there.” He flashed you a charming smile in return. “I think that makes us something. Dunno what quite yet.”
That smile. You thought your knees might actually buckle, the way he smiled at you, the way his hand lingered a bit too long on yours before he dropped it back onto the table. Here you were, in the most glamorous city in the United States, surrounded by beautiful, successful people… and the most gorgeous man you had ever met was making eyes at you. Was this real life?
“So, are you here with anyone?” you hedged. “I don’t want to be holding you hostage here. I think I’ll be alright.”
“Nah, my buddy was supposed to join me but he couldn’t make it. So it’s just me. I’m all yours, for as long as you want to tolerate me.” He grinned.
A shy smile split your lips then, and you replied, “I think I’d like to tolerate you for a while longer… if you want to stick around, that is.”
The way his eyes lit up made you feel slightly faint, a fluttering in your chest that heated your cheeks and warmed you from the inside.
Soon the two of you were walking together, side by side through the park. And if you kept straying a little too close to him, brushing your arm against his, it was only to make sure you stayed close to your personal guardian angel.
And if he took your hand a bit too often, helping you up and down some stairs, maneuvering you out of the way of crowds, well… he was looking out for you, after all. The carnival structures had already proven themselves to be dangerous, and he took his duty guarding you very seriously.
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky fanfic#bucky barnes x yn#bucky barnes x reader#bucky x you#james buchanan barnes#james bucky barnes#bucky x reader fluff#bucky x reader angst#bucky x reader smut#eventually#there will be smut#modern au#soldier bucky#artist reader#shades fics
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hi cas!!
im gonna rant at you for a bit if you dont mind :)
Im a minor that lives in a super tight night, close minded community. Super religious, super homophobic transphobic ect. Seeing as im a teenage girl whose questioning their gender and is definitely attracted to women thats kinda problematic lols. Honestly idek how to explain the situation without a bunch of details, but basically, theres a fifty-fifty chance of me being sent to conversion therapy or just cut off from any internet access (and i mean ANY. i have a flip phone for fucks sake.)if my fam finds out im queer, i have no support system outside of some internet friends who know nothing about my situation, and within the next few years(so like once i turn 20ish, thats in like 4 years but whatever) my family is going to expect me to get married to a man and start popping out babies asap. Btw thats whats expected of me in this community, marriage under the age of 25, have like as many kids as physically possible and god forbid higher education. And im not okay with that . Ffs i want to go to college, major in fine arts, meet a person i like and fall desperately in love or maybe not just have a bunch of close platonic relationships i want cats and a dog and a cute studio in a big city where i can dye my hair whatever color i want aand get an obsene amount of piercings, i want to wear pants!! I just want to live. Without expectations or limits or people who love me hating everything they dont know about me. Is that truly so much to ask for?
And im incredibly dramatic cuz i literally have the dream life. My family loves me, my parents are upper middle class, theyve never hurt me before(besides for all the anti everything rants haha) i literally have a full sized bed, which for some reason i see as the peak of being spoiled idk why. I go to school, not even public, a private religious school that prob costs thousands of dollars, i have friends(who are all part of this community btw and id bet my entire savings that most of them think gay is only a word that ppl use to mean happy lol) close ones even!! I have adorable neices and nephews(my 3 sisters all were married by the age of 20, so i have 11 niecesand nephews while my oldest sister is 31) im living the dream life. But i hate it and i have no way out. No hope of college to get on my feet and find someway out, no people that'll help me fucking run away or some bullshit like that, hell ive considered it and then felt like shit, cuz what am i even running from? Im probably attracted to men it wont kill me to marry one. And i like kids, i wouldnt mind having any either. But.... i dont want to be trapped anymore. Cuz ill be honest thats what i am.if some one asked me to run away with them rn i would, no hesitation.
God im a mess😭😭 anyway this was me ranting in my notes app, im just apologizing for dumping this on a complete stranger(we're moots actually!!) albeit a very kind one :) i dont know what im looking for, but ill take whatever your comfortable giving ig.
I love and appreciate you<333
And hey this has been oddly cathartic so lmk if its okay for me to do this again sometime :))
"im living the dream life. But i hate it and i have no way out."
Hon, you're not living the dream life...there's a difference between financial privilege and being happy, you know? It's pretty clear that this isn't what you want.
I'm not sure if you're asking for my advice here, or if you just want to vent. But I care about you, and if you want me to research some things to try to help you, I'm more than willing to (that way it's not on your search history.) Just say the word!
Until then, you are ALWAYS allowed to vent to me.
I'm naming you venting anon in case you write again!
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Ok so my hyper fixation on aphmau has sparked u again, I've decided to share my little Au with the world because my friends are getting tired of hearing about a minecraft roleplay from... oh god it's been that long? Jeez.
Anyway here is what I'm changing about the base cannon of mystreet before I throw in any crazy AUs like Ein being a decent person and living with Aph and Sylvanna during S2 of PDH or mystreet Dante getting stuck in MCD when everyone ditched him.
So I don't know I can fit my whole four years worth of brain rot in one post so we are going to start with the big blaring walking red flag himself Aaron.
What needs to change?
So so muck For starters, apparently, Aphmau needed to listen to sylvannas internet safety lectures a bit more because SHE STILL GIVES A STRANGER HER ACTUAL PHONE NUMBER!!! Sorry sorry this is a post about Aaron not how nieve aphmau is.
Anyway the guys 18 and is dating aphmau who is probably 14/15. This guy is going off to college in a year and aphmau still talks her stuffed cat and hides in a closet before her first day of high school.
Also at first I defended Aaron becouse I thought he just didn't know how old she was when they were strangers texting each other but they have a whole conversation about how nervous she is ABOUT HER FIRST DAY OF HIGH SCHOOL! Sorry again 😔 but if I was Aaron and I found out that the person I was talking to was actually a young girl who was probably fourteen or fifteen (younger actually since they've known each other and have been texting for atleast a couple months) and knowing that I am seventeen or eighteen would break it off and probably unfriend them not keep texting them about it and then start to ask them to reveal there real name.
Then there's the whole like ultima thing I know it wasn't actually written in until like season 4 of mystreet but I have a question 🤔 if darek knew what kind of life was in store for his son having the curse if he feels so bad about having to isolate his son if he knew the curse is a possibility why have him? Why risk have biological children? Or why not stop after milisasa since for some reason the curse only effects the males of a blood line. (You're telling Me the lycan family has never had an all female generation? Is the curse just dormant in females?) I'm changing that we need to change dark put him on the list right above Sylvanna but under KC.
There's also like why are you the alpha of the werewolf pack? Like I get it in highschool but after in season five? You don't know anything about the culture and Daniel ran the highschool pack for four years you don't have to be the alpha now? I genuinely think that was from Jason wanting his self insert to be the ' powerful hot alpha oc trademark do not steal'
So how an I gonna fix this?
Well we are going to start with Aaron's age, He's aphmaus age or well hes sixteen but so were Garothand Laurence. Plane and simple hes sixteen hes a softmore who was homeschooled is life becouse of his secret ultima curse. He does switch schools temporarily for S2 of PHD becouse dark was worried about how frequently Aaron was loosing control and how he still hadn't had a grasp on the curse, I'm gonna get to that hold tight.
That leads me into my next fix how Aph and Aaron met! They were put in the same online schooling class because Rachel is a bissness major, and Sylvanna is the type of mom to make you cry when she helps you study for your spelling bee (she loves her daughter but she does not have enogh patients to be a teacher.) Anyway they meet in the online class and find out they're both into the same things including a popular Online game and being lonely homeschooled kids latch onto each other, (I would imagine that Aaron went under a different name for the homeschooling program since he can't have the media tracking him down or asking questions y'know?) Then once they get to the age were they have phones reluctantly trade Instagram (aph made a separamount. Just for talking to Aaron and not posting pics because her mom follows her mian and Aaron makes his very first acount and only follows aph who goes by Shu on that account.)
Now to fix the lycann family.
Let's start with the curse, like I said makes no sense as to why Dark still had kids with Rachel biological when he Knew what his kids would go through. So the ultima curse effects all offspring male or female and it isn't usually as strong as Aaron's. In my head not being able to control there eyes was grown out of around five years old to seven years old and then there eyes stop turning red without wanting them to they still pose the danger it's just not that hard to control. It's like potty training they learn as they grow up. But for whatever reason Aaron never really grew out of the uncontrollable eyes thing, infact they were almost always red when he was young. This scared Darek who grew up on these stories about what will happen to them if the curse is ever discovered in they're family blood line, (which is why they still hide that they're werewolves.)
Aaron lived his life in solitude while millisa got to go out and experience the world she got to go the boarding schools in Germany and go with mom and dad on they're business trips while he stayed in they're house in falcon claw with either one of his parents or trusted staff. (This is not how millisa sees it BTW but we'll talk about her later.
I hope you enjoyed my brain dump.
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