#what u need is a packet

[dreamingofthedteam]

why are all the spice bottles so narrow to put a spoon in?? its so annoying to watch

[jrueships]

guess whos not going in at all this week, actually

[cryolyst]

~

[imabiscuitinthousandworlds]

*walking with a friend and a guy my friends befriended (he seems okay? weird humour but cool ig) talking abt falling out of windows*

me: there's actually a word for throwing someone out of a window in english. defenestration

guy, quite weirded out (i think from his voice, his face is like. he's literally twice as tall as me i ain't looking that far up): why? do you just know that??

me: .... Reasons. (chronically on tumblr and weirdly informed abt strange topics)

[loverofallthingssmart]

ah yes. the jet lag. welcome back.

[vanyafresita]

sending a packet to a friend tomrrw and i put an extremely realistic bug sticker on it... i guess i'll prank every postal office worker that handles the packet...... started to think that may be a bad idea cuz surely someone will get scared and drop the packet or squeeze it..... i wrote a speech bubble for the bug that says "handle me with care".......... little packet, i hope you arrive safe, good luck o7

[umiwomitai]

next person to complain about our part of the store being closed on sundays gets eviscerated 😀

[kisses4reid]

convenient pt.3 | ·˚ ༘ spencer reid ,,

pt. 1 | pt.2 (you cannot read this without prior reading)

summary - spencer likes the girl from the convenience store

warnings - awkward conversations and long silences, both of them being hopeless romantics, allergies/sickness

genre - fluff!!! college!fem!reader x earlyseasons!spencer

a/n - thank you for the love and support on this series. it goes without saying i appreciate all of you all 🫶 thank u @raevyng for the cameo. sorry this is short, it’s either i upload this part or i make y’all wait for another week - i like you guys too much to do that.

“good job on you’re stem cell report, y/n. it was very informed and unique. i liked the, now who was it… william blake quote you included!” the teacher spoke before a class of 60. it was back to teaching new information before the next assessment, you were just about finished typing the professor’s notes before she spoke up. the mention of your name nearly made you jump.

a few of the students looked back up at you, some looking around because they had no clue who you were. you liked it better that way.

you also had no idea who william blake was.

“oh- um. thanks.” you say barely above a whisper. professor raena simply smiled and pushed back her shoulder length bob from her face. she started talking again, so did your friend.

“thanks? the professor who’s known to call out people for their incompetence more than smile in the classroom just praised you. that’s all you had to say?”

maybe logan wasn’t your friend per say. maybe she was just someone who sat next to you the first class and also happened to be your neighbour. she was stubborn and straight-forward, insanely intelligent and also smelt great. but she was caring, and gave you tough love when you needed it.

you glanced at her and smiled awkwardly, “i didn’t have much time to think about an answer.”

“i spend most of my time thinking about what i’d say to professor raena if she ever complimented me.”

“that’s because your-“ you suddenly muffle a cough into your hand, “obsessed with her.” you bring out a small packet of tissues from your bag and wipe your nose, nose reddening. logan leans slightly away from you and you roll your eyes.

“you’re not going to catch anything, it’s just allergies.” you lean back and try to continue typing notes but logan continues,

“you should go home, have some medicine, get some sleep.”

“i can’t, i’ve got work.” you whispered, a man in front of you turning around to shoot you with a side eye.

“you’ve told me multiple times that your manager wouldn’t care if you stole from the store. i’ve also told you many times i also don’t care.”

“yeah well… i like working there, that’s all.”

she rolls her eyes again, and waves you off, her long brown hair blocking her disappointed expression from you.

you stayed loyal to your job for two nights, for nothing. sure you got paid, and sure you got to steal some strawberry milk to ease your throat for a couple of minutes, but it felt boring. you actually started to file through the month old magazines you sold for double the price of a new one. you almost made it a third day without dying of allergies (and another secret feeling of sickness you constantly ignored), before you decided you were over it.

you stood up, flipped the door sign so the word ‘open’ faced you, and turned off half of the fluorescent lights before someone was suddenly in the corner of your eyes. spencer was opening the door so quickly you thought you were being robbed, you wouldn’t have seen him if not for the bell ringing on his entry.

“y/n.” he panted, watching your fingers hover over the last light switch. there was two lights left flickering softly above the front door and the check out desk. he looked stoic in the light, dressed in a grey sweater a little too big for him (like his mother had bought it for him telling him he’d grow into it) and black slacks. he seemed to have gotten a trim, his hair just under his ears now. “you don’t close until 1.”

he was confused, eyes wandering with a light hint of relief. like he was happy he didn’t miss you.

“yeah.” is all you said before you turned away from the light switch and returned to the register, assuming he would get his usual. but he didn’t keep walking, he just turned his body to face you. his eyes were expectant, delirious in a way like he needed something from you.

it was silent before the tension literally forced you to speak, “um. i need to close the store before i pass out. so i can uh… get home alive.” you look down and realise the pile of tissues before you was making a mountain, quickly grabbing them and stuffing them in an over filled bin.

“um.” a cat caught his tongue, he looked down to his feet.

spencer was sitting in his desk chair, scrolling on his government provided computer through forums and websites on ‘how to ask out a girl.’ not realising a majority of his team was reading them as well. he heard a small, familiar giggle behind him, quickly closing the tab and turning his head to be met with many other faces. jj slapped garcia on the shoulder with a smile, who’s hand was over her mouth, morgan and emily also smiling. spencer sighed and was about to cover for himself before morgan stepped in,

“look, pretty boy. no websites or article is ever going to teach you how to ask out a girl. they know nothing.”

emily joined, “yeah, none of those things are going to work. i mean, one of those said ‘don’t take no for an answer’. that’s straight up harassment.” she chuckled. morgan walked forward and placed a hand on spencer’s shoulder.

“all you have to do is talk. learn to what she likes, and be confident.”

“that’s easy for you to say.” spencer mumbled.

“who is this girl anyways? who’s taking our genius away from us?” garcia asked, today her hair was adorned with green themed pieces and a small pink flower clip.

spencer couldn’t help but let the corners of his mouth perk up when he thought about the girl who worked at the convenience store. the girl who’s report honestly impressed him. the girl who knew his total without looking at the register. the girl who called him good looking without noticing, like it slipped off of her tongue with no second thought. “just someone.”

you were not just someone.

“yeah you should get home. you look terrible.” spencer’s eyes widened as you raised an eyebrow, “no i mean- not terrible- you never look or have ever looked terrible- i just meant today- no you- like you’re sick and obviously- i mean you don’t obviously look terrible- it’s just uh…” he nodded at himself after he noticed a smile creeping onto your face. “you know what i mean.”

“i know i look terrible, thank you.” he was slowly walking up to the register.

“you really should go home, i shouldn’t keep you here because of some coffee.”

you eyes stung and were puffed in redness, you nose dried yet running, eyebrow lines permanent from warding off a migraine. any other customer you would stay for, but you felt less guilty with him. not because you didn’t care, because you knew he did.

“yeah, thank you.” you grabbed your bag, put your empty water bottle into it and walked over to the lights, turning off the last ones, leaving you both in darkness. spencer was waiting for you, quite creepily as he was basically just a block of void. “you sure you don’t need your 3 minute lasagne?” you joked, and he smiled.

“no, this is fine.”

this? them? you thought this man was articulate.

you opened the door with a key-accessed button that automatically locked it after it closed, and walked into the warm streetlight with spencer.

“bye spencer.” you looked up to him only to find his eyes already on you. his face was plain of emotion, except maybe it was just the lighting that made you think he looked disappointed. not at you, at himself. he was silent, hands making their way into his pockets. it was a habit, you had learned. “what’s wrong spencer?” you asked softly, sniffling immediately after.

it was cold, the wind let a stray piece of hair cross your stuffy features.

“do you like old bookstores, y/n?”

you blinked, taken aback. “yeah. i like old bookstores.” you huddled into your sweater, a darker grey compared to his with a large font displaying your university.

“okay, goodbye y/n. see you tomorrow.” he hurried off into his car and you followed him with you eyes in curiosity.

you were already walking away before he could turn around and ask you something, he felt like he had missed his chance. but there would be more. spencer closed his eyes in frustration and took a breath, starting his car before texting the team’s group chat.

“Attempt One failed. 😐👎”

there was a string of messages after but he didn’t read them. all he could think about was the percentage of people who die alone, and then the percentage of people who are like you.

the next night he appeared at the normal time, around nearly 11pm. but he wasn’t the only one, logan was there with you, studying behind you on the floor.

she was bored, and needed to get out of her room, and the only person she knew well enough was you. there in her mens pyjama pants and an over-sized shirt that read ‘RIP Princess Diana’ with a photo of owen wilson on it, her computer warmed her lap and made a soft whirling sound the in the background.

“hi y/n.” spencer waved, he felt bad about last night. you were barely walking straight when you left and he could tell you wouldn’t get out of your ‘work clothes’ (whatever you wanted to wear with a vest over it) before falling onto your mattress, and he drove away. he didn’t even offer to take and walk you home, let alone give you a ride. but his hands were sweating and his heart thumping in his ears, and he couldn’t think straight.

“oh, hi spencer.” you turned from your own textbook splayed on the counter beside you to see spencer and his tall self. a bag of apples, a 2 minute bolognese container, and a bag of coffee. you scan them, weigh the apples, and watch him.

he wasn’t meeting you eyes. you furrowed your eyebrows for a second before telling him his total with a sniffle.

“i’m sorry for not driving you home,” he lifted his head, a piece of chocolate brown hair crossing his left eye, “or walking you home. or making sure you made it home safe.”

you widened your eyes slightly and sat still before spencer cleared his throat and continued, “i was nervous, about being around you. and my friends- my colleagues- told me i need to be more confident around you so.”

logan had stopped writing, glancing through her bangs up at you both. your mouth was slightly agape before you realised how stupid you looked and how awkward you were making it.

“oh- no it’s okay spencer, you don’t have to say sorry. i was- i’m fine. um,” you tilt your head with the corner of your lips quirking up with little resistance, “you talk about me to your friends?”

spencer nodded, put his hands in his pockets and thought for a second. he wished there was a better place to do this, a better person to take over for him.

all you have to do is talk.

spencer is great at talking.

“did you know that you could be scrolling for seven weeks before you can reach the end of ‘how to ask a girl out’ results on google? i was scrolling for a long time but then my friends told me to just talk and be confident, but i’m only good at one of those thing. so i was trying to ask you out last night but then i- well i failed basically, it isn’t my strong suit,” he took a breath, “so basically i’m saying sorry for not asking you out and not driving you home.”

it was silent, even a customer stopped humming.

“and also your allergy medication isn’t strong enough for your symptoms.” he glanced down to a white and blue box by your hand. you looked down, seeing logan in the corner of your eyes, hand covering her face.

“spencer-“

“dude just ask her out.”

spencer’s face dropped, and he looked over the counter to find another woman sat down, a cringed out expression on her face. his nervousness increased after he realised this wasn’t as private a conversation as he thought. wiping his hand on his vest, he continue with a gulp,

“no i can’t. not here, um. i’ll see you on monday. and i promise i’ll uh- be better? i’ll try again, so. okay see you on monday.” he quickly took his groceries and walked off quite speedily. you watched him walk away and then once he was out of sight, you simply stared at the box of allergy medication on the counter.

logan groaned in the background and said something about growing balls, but it was tv silence for you.

you didn’t know how to go out with someone, your last relationship was in your first year of high school with a guy who thought baby’s came out of a woman’s bum. not that spencer meant he wanted a relationship, no it could just be a friend ‘going out’. totally not romantic.

you slump and stuff your face in your hands. you didn’t care if you hadn’t dated for however long, he didn’t seem to be a man-whore at all. you just cared about how you were actually going to say yes to a man you’ve only talked to inside of an off-brand convenience store on the night shift.

you muffle a scream before the same silent customer placed a carton of milk on the counter.

“$2.50.” you grumble.

you carried logan’s computer bag as she took out a box of strawberry pocky on the sidewalk. the store was locked, the air was crisp, the light was flickering. you didn’t say much until logan couldn’t stand it anymore.

“you know when you’re this silent it’s actually pretty nice, i like peaceful walks home.” you nodded, and continued your racing thoughts with your line of vision stuck on the concrete as you both walked the block to your apartments. she sighed, “but it’s odd. you love talking. a guy likes you and you go mute?”

“his name is spencer, he does something dangerous for a living, he likes old books and drinks a lot of coffee. he gets home late at night, looks skinny but can lift a box of flour above his head with ease. he’s insanely smart and reads poetry, and helped me with my stem cell report.”

you look over at logan who looks a little disgusted but mainly confused.

“he helped me lift that box of flour without me asking. i have no idea who william blake is. i have no idea how he managed to put poetry in a biology report, and i have no idea how he can admit he’s going to ask me out and then not ask me out. his favourite colour is purple, his favourite fruit is grapes but he buys apples because they’re cheaper. and his name is… spencer.”

logan stopped in her tracks, making you copy. you flung out of whatever trance you were stuck in and raised an eyebrow at logan, “what?”

“what? oh no i don’t know, maybe you’ve just never told me about a man you happen to know a lot about, and yet don’t know anything about. you sound insane- not in the ‘loony-bin way’, in the romcom way. it’s disgusting.”

you both continued to walk, climbing the stairs to the foyer of your building before she took back her bag and gave you the pocky, mumbling, “you need these more than me.”

the elevator ride was mostly silent, and that continued before you both unlocked your apartment doors right beside each other.

“you need to ask him out, if he doesn’t do it first.” she entered her apartment before you could speak, let alone think.

suddenly your apartment felt lonely.

so did spencer’s.

he was cross legged on his plush couch on a call with penelope garcia, she was squealing every second minute trying to create a plan for spencer to ask someone out.

“spence, you’re making this very hard. how am i supposed to be your coach if i only have half a team?”

“you can find someone’s address with half a fingerprint, i think you’ll be fine.” he takes a bite of his 2 minute bolognese.

“that takes the fun out of it. i can only give you tips if i know her personality.”

spencer sighed, and thought for a second, he could practically hear penelope’s growing smile knowing she had won.

“her names y/n.” garcia squealed. “she’s smart and pretty. and her favourite colour’s purple and she studies biology. she knows my groceries off my heart and she’s allergic to pollen. she works late at night at the convenience store two blocks away from my apartment building, and she likes old book stores. she’ll be introverted around an extroverted person, but extroverted around an introverted person. she can read my expressions faster than anyone else, she tries out different hairstyles when nobody’s in the store, and she’s funny.” spencer smiles to himself, “she’s pretty.”

“you mentioned that, lover boy.”

pt.4

taglist: @jeffswh0re @hypotheticallyspeakingwitch @trashmonstersara @wannabewolf @evysian @navs-bhat @mywellspringoflife @daphnesutton @smalls155 @amortencjja @anuncalledbridge @belsreid @redmurderbaby @tatilolz @criminalmindsandhouse @forensicuntology @nomajdetective @ilikw @screechingphantommaker

[maxlarens]

i am on my knees Politely Begging You to write a lil something about carlos :( he literally looks like a puppy :( i love him sm :(

yes definitely i can do that :) im not a huge carlos girly but one of my irl friends is a MASSIVE carlos girly so i channeled her for this. but i do agree he's got those 'whatever u say beautiful' brown eyes lol. hope u enjoy! (ALSO this might make it seem like i hate carlos. which is NOT true. leclerc!readers voice overtook me and shes clearly very headstrong lol)

CS: taking what's not yours

pairing(s): carlos sainz jr x leclerc!reader

summary: you hate carlos sainz, plain and simple.

word count: 1.8k+ (read on ao3)

“Sharl, please tell me he isn’t coming tonight.”

Charles looks at you over the top of his phone, pausing his texting to shoot you an expression so dry that you would laugh if you weren’t so concerned about his answer, “Are you serious?”

“Of course I’m serious. It’s your birthday.”

Charles splutters in shock, starting his sentence a few times over before finally spitting out, “Of course, he’s coming, it’s my birthday.”

You roll your eyes, “So what.”

“So what!” Charles shakes his head, “He’s my teammate. He’s my friend.”

You tip your head back and groan loudly, childishly, and then you slap a manicured hand down on the kitchen counter in frustration. Charles snorts, then goes back to texting as you make faces at him to assuage your compulsion to scream at him.

“Christ,” Arthur says as he comes into the kitchen, “What are you two fighting about now?”

You shoot your youngest brother a look full of disdain and say, “None of your business.”

While Charles, at the exact same time, groans, “She’s mad that Carlos is coming tonight.”

“Oh my god. Typical.”

You make another face and aim a gesture at both your brothers that your maman wouldn’t be very pleased to see if she were here. Arthur laughs and Charles makes the same gesture back at you.

“You know,” Arthur says, his head stuck halfway inside of Charles’ fridge, “You clearly need to hook up with him and get it over with. We all know you hate him because you—”

The rest of his sentence is cut short by you lobbing the nearest packet of crisps at his head, followed by a wooden spatula that hits him somewhere on his shoulder blade. He whirls around to glare at you, the packet of crisps and the spatula clattering unceremoniously to the ground.

“Shut up!” you shriek, “You little freak. I do not want him.”

His mouth hanging half-open, Arthur aborts an attempt to throw a packet of spinach at you in retaliation and lets out a raucous laugh at your expense, “Sure. You react like that and you expect me to believe that you don’t want him.”

“Yes! I do, Arthur. Because I do not!”

You look at Charles incredulously, hoping for some kind of support from the more reasonable of your brothers, but he only shrugs, “He has a point.”

You shake your head, eyes impossibly wide in your complete disbelief. Some younger brothers these two are— thinking that you have a crush on your mortal enemy. It’s insulting. You’re not some half-baked floozy like the women that man usually dates. How dare they act as if you would ever stoop so low as to let Carlos Sainz Jr touch you.

You hiss, “Traitors. Both of you,” you knock Charles’ phone out of his hand, and it lands face down on the counter, “Who are you even texting?”

You don’t wait for the answer, throwing your hands up and storming out of the room. You don’t actually care who Charles is texting, it’s probably his girlfriend— who you love for the record— you’re just mad at him. And Arthur. And it felt good to throw a veritable tantrum even though you’re pushing thirty. Not that it’s your fault— no, that blame is reserved for Carlos, who makes you feel like lava is about to come out of your fucking eyes whenever he’s around (or is mentioned in conversation, or is within a five-kilometer radius of you). How can you be expected to act normal about him when he’s seemingly made it his life mission to piss you off?

Somewhere between the argument and the beginning of the party, you calm down and apologise to Charles and Arthur for being a heinous bitch. You don’t retract what you’d said, but you admit you could have said it in a nicer, and perhaps less aggressive way. You just hope that there’ll be enough people at the party that you can avoid him, you’d like to get through the afternoon without starting a yelling match. Though, half of that decision is decidedly not up to you.

Slowly, the apartment fills up with Charles’ friends until all of a sudden there are so many people that you’re struggling to find a way through the living room. You’ve got an empty wine glass in your hand and you’re on a mission to fill it up.

You’re waylaid by Lando, who’s been trying to set up the DJ deck he’d brought over for at least twenty minutes now. You stop to watch Max, squatting halfway under the fold-out table, untangle a truly unruly mess of wires, passing them up to Lando one at a time. Max’s girlfriend shoots you an exasperated look as she impatiently holds onto hers, and what you assume is Max’s drink.

You raise an eyebrow, “Need anything?”

“Nah,” Lando answers, leaning over the decks to reach for a few wires from Max, “Tell Charles the music’s almost here.”

You nod, sharing another dubious look with the other girl in your vicinity, “Great, he’s excited.”

“Won’t be long,” Max adds, voice muffled by the table.

Max’s girlfriend shakes her head minutely, then mouths ‘Another twenty, at least.’ You have to stifle a laugh as Max pokes his head out from under the table to glare at her.

“I can see you.”

She shrugs, “I was betting on it.”

You watch them smile fondly at each other, their eyes sparkling with an emotion that you know well but haven’t had the privilege of experiencing in a long while. It makes your heart ache with jealousy, longing. Something like that. You wave goodbye and leave before they put you in too sour of a mood, promising to find them later. You’re not sure if you’ll hold to that, as much as you hadn’t wanted it to, this afternoon is turning into a bit of a bummer for you. Carlos has been lingering at the edges of everything you’ve been doing, every conversation you’ve had. He’s here already— you’d caught a glimpse of him coming in the front door. You’re just waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Then you push your way into the near-empty kitchen and it does.

He is in there and he is holding your bottle of wine.

A fire ignites immediately in the pit of your stomach, burning hot and bright at the sight of him and his stupid face. You bite the inside of your lip hard to stop from saying anything unsavoury and grip your wine glass with enough force you’re afraid you’ll smash it to pieces.

“That’s mine,” you say instead, in your calmest voice.

Carlos’ head snaps up, his hair flopping across his forehead. He blinks owlishly at you, mouth hanging halfway open in something like shock. You tear your eyes away from his, looking pointedly at the bottle of wine in his hands. There’s no glass for him to pour it into but you have to suppress a scowl anyway.

“Hello,” he says, making no move to place the wine back where he’d found it.

“Sainz,” you answer.

You stand there, surveying each other in silence for a few moments. The air is thick with the buzzing electricity of whatever tension you two cannot help but generate in the presence of each other. You watch him run his tongue across the row of his perfectly straight, white teeth.

Eventually, you bite, “Are you deaf? Put my wine down.”

Infuriatingly, he just raises his eyebrows, “Your wine?”

“Yes,” you grit your teeth, “My wine.”

Carlos shrugs in a way that makes you want to stomp forward and strangle him to death. He knows full well that he’s pissing you off beyond belief— you can see it in the way his eyes glint, in the way his mouth turns up at the corner. And maybe Arthur was right earlier because right now you’re not sure if you want to shove him out a window or grab his face and kiss him so hard that his mouth bruises.

Fuck.

You’ve been really trying to avoid coming to that conclusion. It’s not that you’re blind. You know objectively, logically, that Carlos Sainz Jr is crazy hot. But you hate him and you never want to be one of the gorgeous model women that he drags around everywhere for his own entertainment. You’re better than that, you’re not destined to be the short-term girlfriend of some man before he decides to throw you away for someone different. You’re a Leclerc. That means something. Being Carlos Sainz’s girlfriend doesn’t— and you don’t appreciate having to fight your own thoughts for control over something like that.

“Eh, well,” he says, “If you didn’t want anyone to touch it you should have put it away.”

“Oh my god,” you groan, “You’re fucking infuriating.”

You stalk across the kitchen without thinking, stopping a few paces away from him. You make a grab for the neck of the bottle and he pulls it quickly away, his arm lifted to keep it up out of your reach. You scowl openly now— what a child.

You jab a finger at him, just shy of poking it right into his firm chest, “Give that back.”

He laughs, a boyish, but vindictive thing that makes your head burn hot, “Say please.”

You spit, “Fuck you,” and you make a grab for it.

For a split second, you’re entirely confident in your ability to reach high enough. You boost yourself with a hand on the counter and almost almost reach the bottle in his grip. Then your hand slips, or your shoe slides on the tile and you’re suddenly face-planting right into Carlos’ body. Sheer anxiety floods your body as you anticipate landing in a mortifying pile of limbs at his feet, but before that can happen his arm winds tight around your waist. His fingers flatten into your side, keeping you in place as you find your footing again.

Both of you are still for a tense moment. The arm that was holding your wine hostage has lowered, the bottle left forgotten on the counter as his hand flattens against your shoulder. Your heart is beating high in your throat, your breath shallow. You can feel his heartbeat through his shirt, steady and rhythmic. His breath tickling the shell of your ear, the stubble on his chin brushing against your forehead. You hate the stirring feeling that runs down your spine and into your toes— the shiver that you have to suppress.

You push against the arm around your waist, stumbling back when he releases you like you’re on fire and he’s just been burnt. He is staring at you, expression ragged, mouth hung half open. You tell yourself you don’t know what that look means. You tell yourself that you’re not feeling the same thing.

You lurch forward to snatch the wine off the counter and then skitter out of his reach, pointing a finger at him, “Don’t touch my shit again, Sainz.”

He holds his hands up in surrender, his expression changing back into something you’re comfortable with, something you know what to do with, “You got it, Leclerc.”

⭐ i had so much fun writing charles&arthur&reader like i am very fond of them as siblings. i will have to write them again i think. also did anyone spot the max x photographer!reader cameo???

mandatory song inspo:

fill out this form to be added to my taglist: @clowngirlsstuff

[nor-4]

Formula 1 Incorrect Quotes with reader Two

F1IQ - Part One

Y/n: Bitch why don't you shut the fuck up before i slit your throat and watch the honor roll out?

Max: Are you threatening me??

Y/n: No, I'm hitting on you, flash me a titty bitch.

Lewis: Yeah uh, there's something I've been wanting to say lately.

Y/n: Oh what's that?

Lewis: The N-Word

Y/n looking at toto: Look at your dad. Such a dork, keeping bees.

Y/n: I mean atleast it's interesting though. At least like, i wish my dad kept bees.

Y/n: I mean it's kind of cute. Like, your dad keeps bees.

Y/n: How old is your dad? He's obviously beekeeping age. I dont know. I think It's kind of sweet.

Y/n: George, i wanna fuck your dad.

George: Oh really?

Yuki: Hey can i sit with you?

Y/n: Why

Yuki looking at stroll and ocon: The kids at the other table keep throwing ketchup packets at me.

Y/n: You're not covered in ketchup, though

Yuki: They don't know you have to open it first

Y/n: Damn. We need remedial bullying class too.

Yuki: So how do you like your remedial english?

Y/n: I guess it's whatever. My mom was really pissed, though.

Yuki: Yeah? What about your dad?

Y/n: My dad killed himself.

Charles: I'm finally seeing someone good for me.

Alex: Omg who is it?

Charles: A therapist

Y/n: max is pissing me off *20 minutes ago*

Y/n: nvm just got dicked down

George: Girl what..

Fernando: Every time i talk to you i feel confused.

Fernando: I've never met anyone that speaks like you do

Y/n: Stop lovebombing me

Fernando: what? It's not a compliment

Fernando: You scare me

Y/n: What are you hiding from me?

Zhou: Nothing..

Y/n: Zhou Guanyu.

Zhou pulls out a cat: The cat distribution system chose me okay

Y/n at drive to survive: If he cheats on you, put hair remover in his shampoo, you wanna act like Andrew tate, u gon look like him too.

Lewis wearing a beanie: I CAN'T LIVE LIKE THIS FOREVER

Toto: That's your fault. Being too quick signing your seat with ferrari

Oscar: Are you high?

Lando: Am i what?

Oscar: High

Lando: Hello

Christian: So what could a Mercedes principal possibly have then?

Y/n: I just feel like he'd be into satan-worship, or at the very least have a sex diary.

Christian: A toto wolff sex diary would be horrifying. He's like our rival.

Y/n: We say that about Stephen king books, we still read those.

Daniel: "Dear diary, hot candle wax hurts so good"

Christian: No it'd probably be like a thesaurus of words for "Good"

Daniel: Yeah he probably sexts with perfect grammar.

Y/n: "My wife showed an exquisite exhibition of lust for me."

Toto: Let me try something different here. Do you guys have thoughts and feelings for one another?

Y/n: Uhh i think George's kinda spoiled

George: And i feel like y/n's a bitch

Y/n: What're you gay?

Alex: What.. How did you know? I've never told anyone that.

Y/n: Dude look at your hair dye, you're either gay or color blind.

Lance: bro stop chanting in dead language's your scaring the hoes

Y/n: Bitch you is so lonely I'm summoning the hoes

Sebastian: You used to be shy, now you're a whore

Y/n: There's a thing called character development

Oscar: Reminder that I'm very sweet and endearing so be nice to me

Carlos: or what

Oscar: or I'll punch your lights out

Hey yall this is a bit short cause I'm finna make a random crack twitter posts n I'll post it in the most random day. I love yall baby💋

[scorpioracha]

Dating Yoongi

We've finally got the dating Yoongi headcanons!! I'm sorry it took so long but boy is it lengthy so strap in. this is not proofread and im fucking exhausted so edits to be done eventually. if you enjoy reblog, like and leave a comment. cw: does contain smut and one kys moment

Your meet cute with Yoongi ended up being more of a meet awkward than anything. It was 3am at one of the many random convenience stores in Gangnam and you were exhausted, exhausted and hungry. You were doing a year in Seoul for your major and the timezones were really fucking you up. Puffy sleepy eyes,glasses on and a sleep mask resting on your forehead made quite the picture.

It was also quite the picture when you ran into a rack of honey butter chips and wiped out on the floor.

Full wipeout.

Legs up,gravity turned on its head wiped out.

Thankfully the only thing wounded was your pride, but you kinda wished you knocked yourself out so you couldn’t see the handsome man towering over laughing so hard his eyes practically disappeared and a gummy smile on his face. He had a cup of ice and one of those americano packets balanced in one hand and a helmet dangling in his other.

“...chana?”

“Huh?”you said in a daze. 

“Gwaenchana?”he purred in a low rumble. He looked at your lost expression and sucked in a breath.

“Are you okay?”It was a little clunky and half mumbled but you didn’t want to put this man through any more mental torment so you nodded quickly.

“Ne, na gwaenchana!”you replied and quickly scrambled to your feet, almost falling once again because your ankle decided now was the time to roll. He quickly reached out and steadied you, looking at you with so much bewilderment the whole situation felt comical. He looked at the hand that still rested on your arm and quickly pulled it away, you swear you saw his pale cheeks turn pink.

“Um…”he rumbled, looking at you with weary eyes. “stay”

You nodded with wide eyes as you watched this random man run around the convenience store and come back with a juice box and a random red pouch. He looked at you and held up each one.

“Bae juice”

He held up the red pouch. “Hong sam jelly for sukchwi…one moment”

He pulled out his phone and typed quickly. He held the phone to his ear and hummed.

“For hangover”he said, pointing to the two items again. Your eyes widened and you shook your head rapidly. You weren’t drunk. He definitely misinterpreted the situation and just smiled, giving you a smile and waving goodbye before disappearing into the night.

And what do you do when a pretty man buys you pear juice and ginseng jelly in a foreign country?

You fucking c o n s u m e it.

And the next morning when you woke up late to your 8:00am lecture, you just blamed the crazy night because wow what the fuck happened.

You spent the rest of your classes thinking about that handsome stranger. Maybe you did hit your head because WHY didn’t you ask for his name or his katalk? You could have done the whole ‘oh handsome young man, I need to pay you back’ kinda schtick but your brain decided to cosplay the very first windows computer and blue screen the minute you looked at him. stupid.

“Stupid” you groaned, trudging back to your dorm. You had been blessed—got accommodations—for a single room so it was just you and your twin sized 

Oh yeah, and your pining. 

Couldn’t forget about your pining.

You needed a drink. A good drink,some good food and some cartoons to get your mind off this random man. Within minutes you had a bottle of soju and a hefty platter of tteokbokki on the way. Maybe you’d go out for bingsu sometime this week with the girls from your lecture. They were sweet and treated you just like anyone else despite the racial and cultural differences, doting on you as their new maknae and always making sure you ate between classes. It was nice to be looked out for so thoroughly, especially when you were so far away from home. You pulled your phone out to text them when you got a notification that your delivery driver was already on the way.

Huh. they were already earning themself a tip. You stood eagerly by the door waiting and even though you were watching the app like a hawk, you jumped when the doorbell rang and scrambled to open it.

“Gamsahab-”you looked up and saw a familiar set of eyes. “...-nida”

“Soju?”he raises his brow in a way that says ‘again?’. You felt your face grow hot and shook your head rapidly. He just smirked and handed over your takeout bags.

Once again you fucked up,blanked and forgot to ask for his name.

 Damn pretty boy with his pretty eyes and his stupid smile.

It was months before you had seen him again. 

Time heals all wounds and you began to move on. You hung out more with your friends, went to karaoke,saw the sights of Seoul and slowly but surely felt yourself moving on.

It was on a rainy day in May where you found yourself at your usual convenience store. The weather went from sunny skies to torrential downpour within minutes and you had just gotten your hair done. You were looking for an umbrella but found yourself in the snack aisle. 

Blame it on the wind.

What you didn’t expect to find in the snack aisle were seven men bickering. 

You kinda just stood like 🧍🏾‍♀️ until one of them finally turned and god he was stunning 

“Yah, Yoongi-yah!! Move and let this lady through!”

The ‘Yoongi’ in question quickly scooted out of the way, mumbling about how they were all in the way. 

That mumble…

“Yoongi..”you whispered before you could even stop yourself. His gaze snapped up and for once you caught him off guard. His eyes flitted over you rapidly and his mouth opened and shut like a nutcracker.

“Soju girl,”he whispered. Then the moment was lost.

"na iroumi aniya(that’s not my name)” you huffed in annoyance. You know there was an honorific you were supposed to use somewhere in that sentence but your point still stood.

“You speak Korean”another boy said and god he was tall.

“Yes I speak Korean”you said, tilting your head up at him.

“Hyung, you said soju girl couldn’t speak Korean!”a voice laughs. You squint your eyes at this Yoongi who seemingly wanted the floor to swallow him whole. He stared at you like he had seen a ghost actually which wasn’t making things much better. The tall boy sighed and took a step forward, bowing even. 

“I apologize for my hyung,”he said solemnly. “He’s usually not this dumb. I’m Kim Namjoon and these are my bandmates. What’s your name?”

You smiled and returned the bow, happy to finally have some familiarity, both language and warmth.

“I’m y/n”you said. “I think me and your hyung have some catching up to do”

Yes, to say it was a meet awkward was the nicest way to put it.

It was a fucking train wreck of events if you were being completely honest.

You had exchanged info with Namjoon seeing as he spoke the most English and was the only one who didn’t 👁️👄👁️ at you which was nice and had quickly become good friends with one another.

Seeing that their leader liked you, the rest of the boys quickly followed suit and you suddenly had a much bigger friend group than you could even imagine.

Yoongi had become a lot more reserved in a way that was off putting to say the least. You’d only ever spoken to him twice before but there was something off.

you’d asked Namjoon about it during one of your study/music/kill each other from frustration sections and he just shrugged mumbling something about ‘hyung being busy’ 

you rolled your eyes and grabbed your stuff to find out yourself. That’s what you get for asking a dumbass.

Yoongi had been exactly where you’d expect him to be, crammed into one of the practice rooms with his headphones and laptop.

“Yoongi,” you said, tapping on his shoulder. He spun around in a startle and looked at you with a relieved sigh.

“Oh god”he breathed out, “I thought you were one of the maknae begging for food”

You couldn’t help but to smile, all the prior annoyance melting out of your pores and back to the depths of hell where they belonged. Talking to Yoongi was easy, that is when he was still talking to you.

“How do you know I'm not begging for food?”you smirked, taking a seat on the lumpy couch.

“Well, are you?”he asked, raising a brow. You shook your head and leaned back into the couch.

“You’re off the hook”you said, “but I do have a question” “Which is?” “Why have you been avoiding me lately?”

The room grew silent enough you could hear a pin drop. Cornered was the only way you could describe Yoongi. His shoulders scrunched up and he seemed to fold in on himself.

“No reason,”he said plainly.

Your eyes narrowed.

“So you have been avoiding me?”

His eyes widened.

“That’s not what I meant-”

“Then what did you mean?”you asked. Your patience was wearing thin and your heart was racing something ugly.

“I was trying to give you space”

“Space for what? I didn’t ask for space!”you snapped.

“Space for you and Namjoon!”he snapped back, folding his arms over his chest.

“Me and Namjoon?”you gagged. “The last thing me and Namjoon need is space, please collect your dongsaeng cause he won’t leave me alone!”

“Well he’s your boyfriend!”Yoongi threw back.

Huh.

“Huh?!”You shrieked. 

“It doesn’t take a genius to find out,”Yoongi continued, rolling his eyes. “So you can drop the naive act”

“Naive act—Yoongi, you think I'm dating Namjoon?”you asked. You felt like you were going to be sick. Namjoon wasn’t bad by any means, he was just so older brother coded it was disgusting.

“I don't think, I know,”he said. “You guys spend all your time together,you go on dates,you take naps together; it’s obvious”

“Well since you’re such a genius”You said, “How come you couldn’t tell that i’m in love with you?”

Huh.

“Huh?”he said, spinning around in his chair to fully face you. You ran a hand over your face and honest to god laughed.

“Idiots”you said in disbelief. “You’re all idiots”

“Hey-”

“I've been pining over you for months and this whole time you think i’ve been dating Namjoon”you said, shaking your head.

“You’ve been what?”Yoongi said. 

“Crushing on you”you emphasized, “You idiot”

“i..I don’t know what to say,”he said. You sighed and fully leaned back against the chair, feeling all the blood rush to your head from your bold confession. This isn’t how this was supposed to go.

“You can let me down gently for starters”you chuckled humorlessly.

“Let you down—what are you talking about?”he asked.

“Just reject me already!”You exclaimed, waving your hands frantically. You felt like a madwoman.

“Why would I reject you?”his eyebrows furrowed.

You were going to be sick.

“I’m going to be sick”you laughed, running your hands over your face and god were you crying?

“Why are you crying?”he rumbled softly, leaning in and wiping the tears off your cheeks. You just laughed harder, but that ended up turning into a sob because you were so tired. You weren’t expecting a fairytale but this wasn’t the turn you thought today would take. You felt yourself being pulled closer and you knew you should pull away, you knew better. It was all too much and he would just hurt you, but his hoodie smelled like coffee. His hoodie smelled like coffee and his hands were warm as they wrapped around you. You always wondered if he ran hot or cold, but he was neither; Yoongi was pleasantly warm. His hand had somehow wriggled between the two of you and rested on your cheek, rubbing the streaks where your tears trailed. His breath rose and fell in a steady rhythm and for a moment you felt weighless.

“What a mess, huh?”he mumbled, tracing his thumb over your temple. “I went and made all these assumptions…because I was afraid to say I love you”

“You love me?”you whispered. 

“Mm”he rumbled in affirmation. “You didn’t know?”

“No”you said, keeping your voice low, scared if you spoke too loud, the moment would disappear.

“I thought I was being obvious,”he said.

“I thought I was being obvious,”you said. You pulled your head back to look at Yoongi and that gummy smile was on full display.

“We’re both idiots”

Actually dating Yoongi went much smoother than the confession process.

In the early days, the two of you spent a lot of time in the genius studio doing parallel play, you’d work on your assignments and he would work on music. 

Obviously with many interruptions from the maknae line + hoseok, occasionally being prodded by Seokjin and Namjoon to eat,drink and get fresh air

Y’all needed to touch grass and they were sick of it

Being so close to the band in their early days formed an immeasurable bond between you all

But it also lead to a lot of sacrifices on your part that you weren’t prepared to make. 

There was the obvious like no posting about the boys on social media,nda’s up the wazoo,etc. This was all expected and you were willing to do so.

What you weren’t prepared for was how cruel the kmedia could truly be. You weren’t from here, you were a foreigner and that already put a target on your back. The fact that you weren’t thin or pale didn’t help one bit either. 

Thankfully, the boys and Yoongi reassured you in private. Namjoon did damage control and argued with the company to do more on your behalf, while Jimin and the maknae stood by your side like bodyguards wherever you went in silent solidarity. You were never alone. Jin dropped you off at university in the morning, along with Jungkook. Scolding the two of you to have a good day and to eat something that wasn’t chips. Naturally, Jungkook would bring you back once your classes were done and continued to gripe that even though he was older than you, he was still stuck in highschool.

You still hold this over his head to this date.

So thankfully, you had support. Support that if you didn’t have you weren’t sure where you would be honestly. It really felt like you all had become a little family, and being so far from home that was something you desperately needed.

Once the group got larger and was in a more stable position you better believe they all stopped holding their tongues, especially Yoongi. He could be a little hard to read at times but you were not expecting him to be getting himself into full on twitter wars on a burner account over you 💀

“Yoongi stop telling people to kill themselves”

“No”

Being in love with Yoongi felt easy, it was natural. He continued to take care of you in little ways whether it was packing your lunch,giving you transit fare or rubbing your temples when you were tired and falling asleep on him.

Our mans is definitely about that acts of service life. He loves quietly.

Pda made him want to die just a little inside but he wasn’t opposed to holding your hand. It wasn’t like he had anything to hide anyways, you guys were already public. 

He wasn’t the jealous type and although he’d never admit it, he loved how much you and the boys love each other. He’s got a bunch of pictures on his phone of you just in the dorms being domestic. You spent more time there than you did in your own dorm room.

 So although he doesn’t say it often, he shows it with every part of his being. The way his eyes sparkle when he sees you in the morning, his proud smile in your graduation photos. It also made his heart flutter that you got his dry humor and you dished it right back to him, smack in the middle of the maknae line teasing him and Jin about being old.

And when you learned Daegu Satoori from Taehyung to surprise him? Namjoon had to hold him back from proposing on the spot. And to think he ever thought you and Namjoon were dating.

Yoongi bits ✨tid bits about you and yoongi ✨

Yes Yoongi genuinely thought you were drunk and he wasn’t flirting(he got that nuerodivergent rizz)

When Yoongi told you the mint hair wasn’t real and washed it out you cried 🧍🏾‍♀️

You guys have two apartments together, one near Hybe and one in Daegu. You both prefer the apartment in Daegu because that means Holly gets to stay with you guys.

Everytime a new design for shooky it mysteriously appears in the apartment.

You guys have two cats per your request(a white one named sugar and a black one named gloss) the things Yoongi does for love

You guys have been happily engaged for the past year and he proposed in the most unromantic way possible 

NSFW

Baby, Yoongi is a switch with a capital S

Now I have never met a non kinky neurodivergent person and Yoongi is no exception. He enjoys a good power dynamic and has definitely explored kink in the past with previous partners so he’s experienced.

 But Yoongi does occasionally just like to fuck, no rules no dynamics. Just vanilla sex

He’s a lot softer than his image and he honestly likes the separation between the two for his own sanity. The fans think he’s this no nonsense hardass, but he’d much rather praise and reward you than dole out punishments.

He’s a softie at heart and finds a bit of bratty behavior to be cute so you can definitely get away with a lot. Not to say he’s a complete pushover but he definitely will let a good amount of back talk slide before he puts you in your place. It's almost infuriating how calm he is if you’re the type that brats in hopes of a punishment. He’ll just look at you and laugh about how cute you’re being before returning back to whatever he was doing.

It’s pretty hard to tick him off but also not impossible, the easiest way to get him to snap is to mess with him in the studio; especially if he has a deadline coming up. That's how you end up on your knees crammed under his desk not even allowed to suck his dick but just sit there and keep it warm while he works. The condescending mumbles and coos he lets out while stroking your head is enough to send you careening straight into subspace. “Just needed something in your mouth, huh?”he’d purr and gently drag his nails across your scalp

Tongue technology. We all know about it, but you get to experience this first hand at your beck and call. Yoongi is the first one to admit you’re spoiled and when you’re not being a brat, all you have to do is ask and he’ll be in between your legs. He could and has spent hours down there teasing your folds and giving you orgasm after orgasm until you can’t take it anymore.

Somnophilia. This is a kink that goes both ways for you guys but honestly he finds it really hot when you take what you need from him. Waking up groggy in the middle of the night to you fucking yourself on his cock is one of the quickest ways to get Yoongi whining and gripping the sheets. Bonus points if you tie his hands up or cuff them to the bed posts.

He’s not really a fan of quickies and prefers to take his time, but he’s not opposed to shoving you into a closet and getting you off on his fingers if you’re getting needy. He just wants to take care of his girl.

Speaking of his hands, they end up around your throat and in your mouth quite often. Whether you’re sucking or gagging on them, Yoongi makes good on this little fixation and makes sure you get your fill.

He’s down to being pegged. Somebody had to say it guys,🗣️ Yoongi wants something up his ass ‼️

Whether you have him bent over a table or you’re tied up and he’s riding you, Yoongi does enjoy penetration and he’s not ashamed of it. He likes how dazed and pliant you get when he’s bouncing on your strap all flushed and pink and whining. it’s a rush to his head and sends him over the edge faster than he can get a hand on himself.

He’s a fan of cozy aftercare and pillow talk. After you’ve both cleaned up and the bed is moderately clean, he’s off in the kitchen getting snacks and water so you two can cuddle and recap what you liked and disliked. He gets really affectionate after he cums so it usually dissolves into him mumbling praises and kissing all over your face before falling asleep.

All in all Yoongi is the best boy.

[luveline]

I feel like Hotch with a BAU!reader that has bad allergies? When they have to go elsewhere for a case and he knows to bring medication and plenty of tissues to subtly hand to reader because he knows they don’t like bringing attention to it even though it’s fairly obvious?

thank u for ur request! gn!reader

It's embarrassing —and a second, harder to explain emotion—, knowing your boss carries around tissues specifically for your sniffly nose. Worse knowing he has benadryl in his go bag, and worse again having to ask him for it. 

They're your allergies. You should have sufficient medication. Your job performance relies on it. 

You trudge across the grass of the field toward the big barn. You're on one of the biggest, most harrowing cases you've ever investigated, a mass murder hidden in the Canadian frontier under FBI jurisdiction because of the American victims. Hotch is especially upset by everything and hiding it behind silence and a brow furrowed so deeply you're sure that's it, that's how he's going to look for the rest of his life. 

You needing a tissue could not come at a worse time. 

Swallowing a lump, you cross the threshold. Hotch looks up at your steps. The zeroing in of his gaze on your red-rimmed eyes is nearly humorously instantaneous, but he doesn't ask, and you're ashamed to bring it up. 

"Emily back?" you ask him. 

"No. She and Morgan are still searching." He turns to the desk behind him, covered in old scrap tech. "How has handling the exterior evidence collection been?" 

"Um, it's still happening. You know. It's a lot to process physically." 

He gives you a look. If evidence is still being catalogued, why are you here?

"Hotch, do you have any benadryl?" you ask reluctantly. Your request is punctuated with a sniffle. 

Spencer comes barrelling into the room. "I found something." 

Hotch prioritises the case, obviously, but he gives you another look, this one saying, Come with me. You would've anyways, more than interested in what Spencer has to show. Together, the three of you head across the property to the barn, where Spencer climbs up a ladder into a hayloft. 

Hotch listens attentively, and he shoots off his own theories. You try very hard to listen and add your own input whilst smothering a sneeze, the itching sensation at the corners of your eyes like torture. 

A warm hand touches yours. 

You look down, already flushed with heat but your body is happy to do it again, apparently. Contact with Hotch is always so charged, at least on your end. 

His hand turns subtly outward, offering a small plastic wrapped packet of kleenex. You swear he holds onto it longer than he needs to, his fingertips brushing imperceptibly against yours as you take the tissues. 

You extract one without fuss to wipe your nose and dry your watering eyes. 

"I'm sorry," Hotch says quietly, as Spencer sorts through papers for something particular upstairs. "I meant to bring you these in the morning, but we've been here all night– it slipped my mind." 

You hate bringing any attention to yourself when it comes to your allergies, and you don't like thinking that Hotch is thinking about them when they aren't present, but then something twists into place in your head, so to speak, like an upside down puzzle piece righted, you can slot it into the picture without problem. The puzzle isn't finished or anything, but it's a clue. He's sorry he didn't give you any tissues this morning, preemptively, because he knew you'd have a reaction? 

Hotch must really care about you. 

But now isn't the time for that discussion. You're not sure what you'd say, anyways. 

You step in front of him a touch, a half step, and let your arm hang at your side. Hesitant, with your heart beating between your ears like a monkey toy on the cymbals, you reach backward. Your unsteady hand brushes against his. 

Hotch, brilliantly, astoundingly, brushes back. His index finger draws a slow, light line up your palm. 

"Here!" Spencer says, shocking you apart. He holds a drawing up over the wooden balcony. "Can you believe it?" 

Phantom heat crawls over your skin from Hotch's touch. You open your mouth to respond and find it promptly snapping closed as a sneeze rocks your entire frame. 

"Allergies?" Spencer asks. 

You groan. Hotch tells Spencer to keep working and turns to leave. "I'll go find those benadryl," he murmurs to you. 

You can't answer him, caught in the middle of a sneezing fit. 

[blackdollette]

Thoughts Being Thunk… nasty sex w spence as u pass a j back and forth ‼️

this is gold, anon.

"we're getting high in the parking lot." | spencer reid

dark but just a game. - lana del rey

fill out the taglist form! : @thirtyratsinasuit @auggiethecreator @oliviah-25 @sleepysongbirdsings @pleasantwitchgarden @emma-e-a @bellasprettywords @hiireadstuff

⊹₊⋆ pairing: bau!female!reader x spencer

⊹₊⋆ word count: 899

⊹₊⋆ contents: public sex, drug usage, missionary, porn without plot

with his blazer, dress pants, and boxer briefs tossed somewhere in the backseat, he only wore your legs as a belt around his waist. 

it was sinful, and completely against everything you and him stood for. but even the best agents in the country needed a break, right?

you pulled open the glove box, shuffling around until pulling out a metallic-wrapped condom and a lighter. you tore open the packet with your teeth, taking spencer’s painfully erect rod in your grasp and slowly rolling down the latex. 

with spencer looming on top of you, you reached into the cup-holder underneath him. 

“want a pre-roll? i just got these. never get to use them, though.”

he cleared his throat, shaking his head. “i’ll just share with you. if… that’s okay.”

you smile, slipping the joint between his lips and lighting it up. “you’ve never done this before, have you..?”

he shakes his head, his chestnut hair swishing with the movement.

“well first, you wanna inhale. not too hard, or you’ll choke. then, if you’re feeling frisky, you take it into your lungs gently. i’m pretty sure it makes you get high faster. but i’m sure you have the info to verify that, genius.”

you teasingly pat him on the cheek as he smiles sheepishly, keeping the joint between his lips as he takes his first slow drag. the cherry gleamed a fiery red as he took in the smoke, breaking into a small coughing fit just as you had predicted. you snorted out a laugh as you reached a hand behind him to pat his back, assisting him in clearing his airway. 

“did i do good..?”

you nodded, putting on a sweet smile. “you did perfect, spence.”

you pulled the joint from his lips, taking a drag. spencer took in the way your lips closed around the thin stick, blowing out an elegant ribbon of smoke with a content sigh. you looked nothing short of majestic in this moment, and he couldn’t help but wonder what he had looked like, choking on the same amount of smoke that you had tamed so effortlessly.

your eyes met his, a smile creeping onto your face as you saw his dilated pupils swallowing up his dark green irises. 

“whatcha looking at?” you whispered, slowly snaking your arms around his neck as his face inched closer to yours.

“y-your so pretty…” he stammered, his voice cracking slightly.

you giggled, the tips of your noses coming into delicate contact. “...starting to feel it, spence..?”

he nodded, shutting his eyes and bringing his lips to yours, connecting you in a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss. the joint dangled between your dainty fingers, your other hand meeting his throbbing shaft and stroking it, making him gasp.

you laughed softly, looking at him with half-lidded eyes. you stroked him slowly, peering down to see his length. 

“don’t think i forgot about you, little guy…”

spencer’s lips pulled into a pout. “you think he’s little..?”

you laughed, thumb pressed against his tip. “oh my god… you’re totally stoned after one hit, aren’t you…”

spencer buried his face in the crook of your neck, muttering against your skin. “can you just… put it in, baby..? i don’t wanna wait anymore…”

you smiled, pressing a kiss to his hair as you navigated his cock to your entrance, lining it up before pressing it against your dripping folds, allowing your hole to drink him in. he shuddered against you as you bit your lip. 

“a-alright. i’m ready for you, spence. go for it…”

he didn’t need to be told twice. with your command, he began rocking his hips against you. his cock buried itself deep inside of you, hitting nothing but cervix. he watched you writhe underneath him, your tits bouncing with each thrust as you took another long drag. he couldn’t draw his gaze away from you. in the span of two minutes, you had become the only thing that existed in the world to him.

you brought the joint to his lips, guiding his hands to grab your hips as the car began to rock. raspy groans caused his chest to rise and fall as he inhaled, a nearly perfect cloud of smoke pouring from his mouth.

“y-yeah… atta boy…” 

he pushed your legs further apart, placing a hand on your stomach to feel the bulge created by his cock everytime he reentered you. he let out a drunk little giggle, his thumb creating messy circles onto your puffy clit.

“you feel that, baby..?” he enjoyed feeling himself slither in and out of your tight hole. he put the joint between your lips, stroking your cheek as you took a drag. 

never in his life had he ever felt so carefree and blissful. nothing else mattered right then. this was pure serenity. 

he cupped your face in his hands, bringing his lips to yours once again as his thrusts became sloppier. the sound of skin slapping echoed through the vehicle. if the conspicuous rocking of the car didn’t draw the attention of others, then the lewd moans and curses surely would.

your tongues fought a passive battle, your noises being fed to eachother as your naked bodies melted into one. it was like time had stopped to make way for this moment. you didn’t even know that you and him had spent hours in that same position. 

until the joint went out.

author's note: working on two chip fics!!

[theresamouseinmyhouse]

tbh i so super get why tim idolizes dick grayson like thats just what having an older sibling is like. Like yeah, they let you tag along wherever they go even when they may wanna be alone and theyre also the smartest person you know and god theyre SO fucking angry but thats okay bc theyre not just angry theyre strong and theyre sad and they just need to be handed a ripe mango while u sit by them on the curb while talking about an old childhood movie. They used to pick u up on their shoulders when u were 5 to steal the lemons from the neighbors trees and theyd carry salt and chile packets to pour on your fingers while you dig into the lemon rind and youd eat lemons together under the old trees. Theyre literally the coolest person alive. I so get why tim thinks dick is the bees knees bc like,,,yeah (good) older siblings are just like that.

[thecapricunt1616]

BlueBell (c.b. one-shot)

𝓢𝓷𝓲𝓹𝓹𝓮𝓽 (𝓶𝓸𝓻𝓮 𝓑𝓣𝓒): When Mikey killed himself.. it was easy to say you were a mess. Mikey was the one who coaxed you through Carmys leaving, letting you know it was ok, that he was just ‘bein’ a lil’ bitch’ and he’d come to his senses soon enough. But he didn’t. And Mikey got sicker. And no matter how much you tried, how many times you called Carmy after a hard shift, or after stumbling into Mikey in the back freezer with a fucking disposable tourniquet tied around his arm, nodding off, begging Carmy to come home through your tears. Pleading, sobbing into the phone for minutes at a time that his brother was fucking killing himself - you never got a call back. 

♡ O/S Inspo: Bluebell - Luck, truth and friendship. Incorporate into rituals to comfort those left behind and ease their sorrow. ♡ Summary: Your childhood best friend comes back to Chicago to take over the restaurant that had caused a rift in your friendship, and wants to make it better. ♡ W/C: 4.6K ♡ Posted Date: 05/26/2024 ♡ A/N: Heyyyyy!! Here is my technically second request for my 200 follower celebration that can be found ♡ Here ♡ based on this request from an anon :) please get your requests in folks! This celebration will be running Today (05/26/24) to next Sunday 06/02/24! I am still working on my first request (First date w/ Carmy) the writing bug just bit me in the butt for this one and I haven't ever written for childhood best friend Carmy it was very fun!!! Anyhoot- I hope you enjoy :D ♡ Warnings for BTC: Angsty (but comfort too!) Not edited, No use of y/n (reader is referred to as 'squish'), No use of skin colors / descriptions for reader (pics are for purely vibes!), Typical TW's that come w/ TB (speaking of suicide and all that), reader feels nauseous but never throws up!oh and not all that edited woopsieee haha sorry yall know the drill btp

♡ 𝐌𝐲 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 ♡ ➵ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 ♡ ➵ 𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐞 ♡ ➵ 𝘊𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 / 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘵 ♡ ➵ 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 ♡

You had known Carmy a long time. Too long, was what you’d have said when he first moved back to Chicago. He kept in touch with you up until he left, and then it was simply every time your google search alert went off, you got a warmth in your chest knowing he’d accomplished something else. 

It felt strange, not talking to him every day. You'd had a huge fight before he’d ran off to Paris all alone. That was what baffled you, Carmy and alone - didn’t go in the same sentence usually. All middle school, all high school - he was glued to your side. Any time he needed a new assignment because he lost his, you’d go up for him and ask the teacher for a new one. When he needed to return an overdue library book, you’d face the librarian, claiming he’d forgot it at your house and you were too lazy to bring it in until then. Even going up in the fucking lunch line - he literally gave you his lunch pin so he didn’t have to face anyone unnessisarily. 

He’d meet you in the back of the football bleachers, cigarette between his lips that he’d throw out as soon as he saw you (he took to heart how you despised the habit- and he strongly disliked disappointing you) but with a mother, older brother, father, and older sister that smoked nearly a pack a day? He was doomed to pick it up himself. 

“I heard this mornin’ it was-“ 

“Chicken patty’s” you grimace handing him over the foil covered sandwich. “I didn’t get the fries - the geese are gonna have heart failure cus’a’you” you teased, opening your own and digging the 6 crumpled ketchup packets from your pocket, handing him 2 (you got the extra to wolf down the public school garbage because you made the walk up to the line, and all the way outside for him) 

“They deserve a little happiness y’know?! N-no worse than bread- vegetables are healthy!” He teased, taking the sandwich and muttering a little “Ugh” as he unwrapped it and smeared the 2 packets under the bun before closing it. “After school you wanna go T-T’the restaurant w’me?” He took a big bite. It was shit but it was something that got us through the grueling, sticky Chicago spring schoolday. 

“Mmhm” you hummed “parents outta town- Y’can sleep over if you want after. “ you nudge his hip with your own playfully. He’d been content with staying home lately, for whatever reason, but you wanted your Carmy time back. You’d figured you’d give it one more try 

“Uh-“ he started and you took a deep breath, eyes fixed on your dirty old black and white converse “N-Nat needs help w-with-“ 

“Save it” you snip, leaning against the bleachers and staring out at the pond next to the soccer field. He’d been doing this for the past months, when he used to be at your house every day, making up stupid games together and showing you how to cook his family's favorite recipes- lately, he’d just been going straight home after school and didn’t tell you why. 

“H-Hey-“ he reached out, touching your arm gently and you jerked it away. While his touch used to be comforting, now it felt like it burnt. You’d been having a crush on him for years and it felt like the ultimate knife to the gut he couldn’t see it, and didn’t reciprocate it. It hurt even worse it felt like your best friend in the whole wide world (and your only friend) had recently started ignoring you.

“Just don’t, Carmen.” You muttered, taking another bite of your sandwich. “Gotta get t’health.” You said after a few beats of silence, heading back to the school. It was one of the 2 classes once a week you didn’t have together due to your last names, and usually the worst periods of the week. But this time, it felt like a relief. 

That was the last time you’d ever met him for lunch. 3 months before the end of your senior year, and 7 years of being attached at the hip somehow fizzled to nothing more then longing glances in the hallway, and staring eachother down at graduation. 

Your mom and dad were ultimately confused when you told them you wanted to leave as soon as you’d walked the stage, not caring in the least to go to Carmys grad party - and that confused them even more. It just turned into a bratty screaming match started by your teen self, telling them how they had to ‘butt out of your life’ and to ‘Mind their own stupid business!!!’ Even though they were just concerned you were now completely ignoring the boy they had taken in as a son, and were giving him the cold shoulder when since the sixth grade the two of you had been nothing short of inseparable. 

Then - when you had started working at The Beef - as a favor for Mikey, when he had called - asking if you needed a job your first summer off from college, of course you said yes. And then Carmy took that news…. Worse then you could have ever thought. 

The fight you had the night he’d found out in the back alley of The Beef was burned into your memory since it happened. The angry accusations of you ‘having a crush on his older brother and wanting to fuck him since you were in school’ or ‘trying to weasel your way back into his life when he’d made it clear he hated that you were so ‘obsessed’ with him’ it had literally made you throw up in frustration and sadness and utter disbelief when he stomped off, face red and veins bulging in anger. 

The 5 words though that were seared into your brain ‘How fucking could you?, squish?!’ nearly choking on your childhood name, Tears streaming down his flushed pink cheeks. You never knew it would hurt him so badly that you worked at The Beef, you truly thought you were just doing a good favor for a man who was a big brother to you. Not betraying your best friend in the world, the boy you’d loved for so many years. 

You’d tried calling Carmy, only to be met with the generic voicemail message each and every time. Tears rolled down your cheeks as you wished him well, told him how much you missed him, missed your stupid inside jokes - you missed your bear. 

When Mikey killed himself.. it was easy to say you were a mess. Mikey was the one who coaxed you through Carmys leaving, letting you know it was ok, that he was just ‘bein’ a lil’ bitch’ and he’d come to his senses soon enough. But he didn’t. And Mikey got sicker. And no matter how much you tried, how many times you called Carmy after a hard shift, or after stumbling into Mikey in the back freezer with a fucking disposable tourniquet tied around his arm, nodding off, begging Carmy to come home through your tears. Pleading, sobbing into the phone for minutes at a time that his brother was fucking killing himself - you never got a call back. 

The day Carmy had come home, well - the day he started working at the beef. You were there early, per usual. You liked the 6-3:30 shift as you were out before the busiest time of day, and had maintained this shift since college. You had your degrees, you were going to be leaving after you’d graduated to start a real adult life instead of slinging stupid beef sandwiches for less-than-favorable pay - and then Mikey died. And you were the only one who knew how to do the books at the beef, before you taught Natalie. 

It wasn’t a surprise that Mikey was laundering money through the place, but what was a surprise was he left the place to his idiot little brother who’d abandoned his whole entire family to go do his stupid Executive chef-de-bullshit while everyone drowns in Chicago without him. You highly doubted that he would be able to manage the moving of money Mikey had taught you, but Nat was the only sister you’d ever known- so when she sobbed to you after mike died and she found out it was left to Carmy, and begged you to teach him how everything works- you couldn’t deny your big sis.  

“S-squish?” You heard behind you, and you nearly dropped the entire pan of beef you’d chopped into the large pan you were holding to marinate for the day. Your heart felt like it had been replaced with a hummingbird and its wings were beating so hard against your chest you were sure if you turned he would see it in your throat.

“Uh-“ you started, deciding it was better to not look at him, since tears would likely spring to your eyes. What did he look like in real life now? Was he really so…big? Was he really no longer that skinny, awkward little bear you once knew? “N-no one really calls me that- anymore…only Richie.” You grabbed the bowl of pre chopped onions that you’d grabbed from the fridge, tearing off the plastic wrap that had yesterdays date written on it, crumpling it up and dumping the vegetables over the meat before grabbing the bowl of chopped green peppers and doing the same. 

“So I can’t call y’the name I gave you?” He chides, that old edge of playfulness to his tone you missed so much. It made your heart clench. 

“The last person to use that regular was your brother” you said and that quickly shut him up as you mixed together the meat and veggies with a large spoon after adding the pre made spice mix, the last of the pre made spice mix that Mikey had left, tears brimming your eyes at the realization, shaking your head a bit hoping to will them away. 

“Fuck” he said, barely audible. There was a sadness to his tone, easily picked up by you. This was your first love. How could you not remember every single thing about him?! “Squish I’m-“ 

“Just save it. You’re here to work, right?” You looked back at him finally, and your breath nearly got caught in your throat. He was so… tall. You always teased him that he was just a late bloomer, and would grow into himself just like Mikey did - but he would constantly deny it and tell you he’d just be stuck being ‘a shrimp’ forever.

But fuck had he grown. And he has grown well. He finally grew into his nose, which you wanted to immediately poke fun at him for, his lips were still the same pouty thin ones you’d remembered - but his body. It made your mouth water. 

You’d seen it once, as he’d seen yours. You were sophomores in high school, awkward, fumbling teens that agreed to lose your virginity together. But back then he was lanky, hairless, soft. Now? He was a full grown man. 

“Mmhmm” he hummed, sounding like a child scolded but you could barely recognize the tone of his voice now that you’ve met his face. A man. 

“Carmen” you said softly and his eyes met yours again, recognizing the tears in them 

“Don’t cry, squish” he said just above a whisper, “M’sorry…” he admitted, carefully reaching up and thumbing away your tears. 

“Oh Carm” you broke down, dropping the spoon you were holding onto the bowl and practically collapsing into his arms in choked sobs. 

“I know” he said quietly, gently petting your hair just like he did when you were little. 

“He’s dead Carm, where were you? Where the fuck were you? I called you, Bear! He was sick!” you sobbed mercilessly into his shirt, letting everything out you held in at the funeral to maintain your cool for Donna and Sugar since they were blubbering messes.. You could hear the thick tears in his voice when he whispered a strained 

“I’m so fuckin’ sorry, Squishy- So sorry” 

Your little moment was interrupted though, by a small voice - 

“Hi! Hey- uh..Hello- sorry- I was um…I got a call - yesterday, about an interview, for an um- a Sous position?” your head shot up from Carmys shoulder, seeing a tall brown-skinned girl with braids smiling awkwardly,  eyes flickering between you and Carm, clearly looking uncomfortable. You would be too, you realized - if you walked in to your supposed-to-be interview, to see your potential boss being cried on by one of his employees.

“Shit- uh” he pulled away quickly, walking up to her and extending a hand. You decided to go to the back of the kitchen to the changing area to have a few swigs from your water bottle and calm down. You didn’t need to relish in the sting that was him dropping you so fast for another girl, even if you were short staffed and you did need the help.

You shook your head, wiping over your tears and taking a few large gulps of water. Teach him how to move the money, and quit. Thats all you have to do, easy right? 

No.

Not at all, actually- fucking impossible. 

Carmen had been bad at math, horrible at it  - actually, so teaching him how to run the books - with Richies explicit instructions to not make him aware his Uncle and Brother were washing blood money through the restaurant - so to try and explain why the electric costed 120K a month for a hole in the wall like The Beef was getting frustrating, because when Carmy didn’t understand something- he asked never ending questions until he got it. Thats what had you and Carmy, sitting in the back office together at nearly 8 PM, going over the books for what felt like the millionth time.

“So - so the General electric, lets go over one more time squish - I’m still.. Why would Mike have done that? An-an’ why we payin f’r a system that y’say isn’t workin’ anymore? Cant we just like- negotiate? Ask uncle jimmy t’fix it?” he tapped his pencil on the desk absentmindedly as he looked over the spiral notebook you’d written the monthly ‘bills’ on, trying to explain it to him without giving away anything he didn’t need to know like Richie instructed.

You groaned, rubbing over your face frustratedly and rubbing your temples. He was gonna give you a migraine asking these same god-damn questions. “Bear- i’m tired- my shift ended like…four hours ago! I was supposed to be on a facetime date” you groan, dragging your hands down your cheeks dramatically.

“The hell is a facetime date?” he asked, that gigglyness in his voice he’d take on when he was making fun of you when you were little.

“You lost the privilege of fucking with me when you ran away” you look over at him, a frown unknowingly etched in your features.

He met your eyes, biting at his lip the way he did, blinking a few too many times as he looked down at your lips before meeting your eyes again. “I never was running from you, squish” he said, his voice taking on that softness you fucking hated because you loved it so much.

“Yeah? Sure fucking felt like it- and for your information, a facetime date is a date you do when someone isn’t close enough to go on a real date. So…yeah. Anyway- like I said - the arcade costs-” he cut you off

“So…where’s this guy live?” he questioned. “You really can’t date a guy in Chicago? Y’gotta go f’r long distance?” he asked, a little smirk on his face. The kind that would have had you wanting to crash your lips into his when you were teens, but now it just made you want to cry at all the lost time, what you could have been if you just told him you’d loved him that night, that the reason you accepted the job was so that hed fucking look at you again. 

“Why the fuck does it matter to you? You stopped giving a fuck about me - what, Tell me fancy pants CDC? How long has it been since you gave a fuck” You got up, grabbing your jacket. “Like I fucking said, Carmen, My shift ended hours ago. I’ve explained this to you multiple times. If you’re still too focused on Paris, or- or Copenhagen - Or fucking Noma- to not understand how to run your familys piece of shit? Isn’t that what you called it- huh? Why don’t you go and ask the fucking sibling you have left how to do it, yea? She’s been trying to call you, We all were- but it’s not like you give a fuck- like I said- figure it out, Bear- and consider this my formal fucking 2 weeks. I’m done in this shithole” you threw your wadded up apron at his chest and slammed the office door shut behind you, stomping off to the lockers to gather your things and go the hell home. 

The next week and a half of work felt much like high school. You and Carmy were in the same exact room, forced to work together most of the time - but not a word was exchanged that wasn't absolutely necessary between the two of you. It wasn’t until the night before your last day, he was brave enough to say something to you. It was after closing, you’d picked up a double since 2 line cooks had called out and you already knew how to hold up pace without any training. You could use the money anyway, the pay was absolute garbage - the only reason you ever put up with it was because Michael was family to you. “So uh…” Carmy starts as he put on his plaid coat, shoving his work clothes in his backpack “How was y’r um… facetime date?” he asked, shoving in his chefs clogs last before zipping the bag shut.

You bit your lip, continuing to fill your tote bag with the remainders from your locker. You wanted to just leave as soon as the clock struck 3:30 tomorrow and never look back, forget Carmen was ever a part of your life. Being around him again brought back that sharp ache deep in your chest that you’d picked up in school when you began ignoring eachother, for why? You cant even remember- other then him shrugging you off to hang out that one last time, and you ignoring him the rest of that week, and it just kept going. You realized the first you’d spoken since then was his first day back, and you couldn’t get that fact out of your head. 

“He never texted me back so- yeah” you folded up a pair of work jeans, shoving them in the bag

“Oh- shit- m’sorry, squish. Guys can be real assholes” he replied. And while you know it was supposed to be friendly and him just trying to console you, It really just pissed you off. 

“Yeah- You would know” you grate quietly, continuing to pack your bag. He frowned in that cure Carmy way, shutting his locker and putting his backpack on his shoulder. Luckily the two of you were the only ones there tonight, so no one had to be present for you unpleasant bickering.

“Are you ever gonna hear me out? Er’ you’re just gonna freeze me out forever?” he asked, his voice laced with genuine hurt. But you couldn’t help but laugh coldly, shaking your head.

“Freeze you out? Freeze you out? Well if this week has been anything like the past few years? I hope it feels half as shit as I’ve felt. Glad you’re finally getting the message, I want nothing to do with you. I don’t stay where i’m not wanted, plus- aren’t I just a whore who took a job to make passes at your older brother- who by the fucking way was literally nearly 10 years older then us? That is just…gross Carmy! Mikey was as much an older brother, a fucking protector as he was to you, and to Nat- as he was to me- I loved you! I fucking loved you, Carmy! And you-” You took a shaking breath, turning to look at him and he was pale as a ghost at your admission.

“And you froze me out first, you- you stopped calling, in school carmen all those fucking years ago? You stopped, and - and when I didn’t come to the bleachers you didn’t try to find me! You just-” you met his eyes once again but couldn’t find them as they were squeezed shut and that 17 year old was right back in front of you, nervously shaking his hand and tears streaming down his cheeks. “Fuck- Bear I didn’t mean t-” 

“D-Don’t” he brushed past you, the familiar smell of smoke and pine and sandalwood hitting your nose, the same Cologne Mikey wore. 

“Carmy” you rushed after him as he made a b-line for the office. 

“You’re right, Squish- go home” he rasped, his voice thick with tears and regret. Your heart broke in that moment. Your chest also bubbled with anger, because - you were right?!

“I’m right?” you asked and he sniffled, attempting to shut the door on you but you shoved it open “Look at me - Look at me and fucking tell me that you meant what you said Carmen!” he sat at the desk, burrying his face in his hands and rubbing over it. 

“Just fuck off Squish! I mean it- go!” He was getting louder now, but there it was again, Squish.

“If you meant what you said- call me by my name” You challenge, nudging his sneaker to get his attention, just how you did when his head would be down in english class when he didn’t want to be noticed so he wasnt picked to read out loud.

“What?” he looked up at you finally, his big blue eyes red and tear stained, rims watery and long sandy colored lashes clinging to stray smaller tears. He looked so sad, and you thought again for the first time since he left that night all those years ago, that you wanted to kiss those tears away.

“You- you keep calling me squish” you shrug a bit “If you really mean what you said - if- if you think I got this job to whore around with Michael?! Call me by my real name. The name the rest of the staff call me- the name people who aren’t a fuckin’ Bear call me.” you challange, a lump growing in your throat as he stared you down.

“Did you mean it?” He asked, voice just barely above a whisper. You knew exactly what he meant, and you were pretty sure your heart was gonna fly out of your throat any second- or you were gonna throw up all over the floor and embarrass yourself - 50/50 

“You- you go first, I asked first” You said and he ran a hand through his hair, greasy from the day before digging in his pocket and pulling out a spare quarter 

“Heads er’ tails?” he asked, and you couldnt help but crack a tiny smile. This- this was normal. In high school, when you’d both ask eachother a question and neither wanted to answer first - even though technically the person who asked first should be the first to get an answer, you both decided to let the universe decide who’d be the first to get an answer.

“You gotta be kidding- you remember that?” You leaned on the desk and he looked up at you, panic mostly gone from his eyes and you knew you still had your bear-taming charm as Mikey called it when you were kids, since you were the only other person to be able to calm Carmy down.

“Are you kidding? I remember everything” he retorts “I call heads then” he flipped it and you gasp, smile growing a bit and you nudge his knee with yours, the gesture causing warmth to flood his cheeks as he flips the coin 

“I thought it’s always ladies first?” you teased and he flipped it on to his hand, keeping it covered. 

“Y’re too slow” he cracked a small smile, before revealing the quarter was heads side up and looking up at you expectantly. That heartbeat that could also be vomit reappeared, and your chest got tight. 

“Yes” you said simply, realizing you’d said loved - not love, not a current state of being, even though it never really went away. When he came back that first day, and you were right back to using all your old coded language and laughing over old jokes - you’d realized the love never really died, you’d just shoved it down as deep as it could go.

“Of course I didn’t mean that bullshit, Squish. I was….so fuckin stupid- I was - I am a fuckin idiot. I- I changed my fuckin number and I didn’t bother to load my contacts cause…I thought you hated me - But I- I never stopped…” he met your eyes again. 

Oh god, your heart was really coming out of your throat right now

“Never stopped….loving me? You- you loved me?” you asked bravely, feeling as if you might pass out - or die - or both if he said no. 

He nodded silently, his gaze fixed on the floor ever so shyly, Classic Carmy, the Cowardly Bear

“Well- which- which is it?” you asked, you weren’t going to let his shyness cheat you out of a real answer.

“I- um…I never stopped” he finally met your eyes.

You felt as if you still may pass out, or die, or both at this admission. 

Instead of that though, you leaned in, cupping his stubbly cheeks. His breath hitched, so did yours - you weren’t even sure you were breathing, the last time you’d been this close was - well, Sophomore year of high school , when you both vowed to never speak of it again, since you were both unsure how the other felt - and much too shy to say anything about it in case of rejection or being viewed as ‘weird’ by one another. You leaned in, the smell of cigarettes and mint on his breath from the gum he would chew instead of eating on meal breaks after a cigarette. 

His eyes fluttered shut “I’ve thought about this every day” he whispers, breath fanning your lips gently. You rest your forehead on his, closing your eyes and your noses bumped sweetly. “Can I please kiss you?” he asked, his voice soft and wanting. 

“You don’t have to ask” you said and leaned in, finally meeting his lips. He pulled you closer, you were practically on his lap. It felt as natural as falling into bed at the end of a long day moving your lips with his, your fingers easily finding his curls and combing out the little knots from the day, causing him to groan softly into your mouth. You smiled a bit, straddling his lap and wrapping your arms around his neck. 

You sighed in relief as he wrapped his arms around your waist, slipping his tongue over your bottom lip, you hummed- opening for him and moaning softly as he ran his tongue over yours, enjoying your taste as well as you were enjoying his. He was the same as you remembered, you’d fantasized about doing this with him again every time you got off - or just every time you were daydreaming in general. You weren’t sure who broke the kiss first, but you both needed to breathe, so it was for the best.

“I still love you, too”

[bitchimasnake-sss]

"remember that time when-" ft. r.zoro!

ft. zoro x fem!reader

set-up: you're pms-ing and this man is your greatest friend and even greater enemy rn (but you know you love him); drabbles to soothe your delusional soul <3

warnings: none! very wholesome lol

-contrary to popular belief, this man actually knows what periods are (wow, the bare minimum!!!) - when he was younger, he had listened to kuina go on about being a woman and its disadvantages and all and i believe he thought she was talking smack (i mean at the end of the day, "a swordsman is just a swordsman") - so when 15 year old zoro stumbled across a library, he decided to waltz in and just pick up a random biology book to understand female anatomy (it happened one after the other, completely unplanned) - when i tell you his little fifteen year old pea-sized brain was blown away (he learnt way more than he probably should have) - (please i beg u he can read, trust me 😭😭) - but just because he knows its a thing doesn't mean he understands it. so, yeah, he actually does know what it is, he simply does not care - in his logic, he had bled multiple times and still always bounces back so like what's the big deal??? "what's the big deal? it's just blood" he's sipping on a bottle of sake, gulping down its remnants in a single breath when you had complained about cramps one evening "excuse me?" nami is ready to strike him down "i said its just blood" - nami did, infact, then strike him down - post-dating zoro still thinks its no biggie "oi, yn" he's poking your shoulder, "what's wrong?" "cramps" you grumble against the pillow he laughs, "ah, they'll go away, get up and get going now. don't sulk around, you're my fav ketchup packet" "tf did you just say?" "ketchup packet?" - you refused to talk to this man for the next two days - at the end of the second day, he had to write a formal apology (with chopper's help) and speak it out loud before you started entertaining his bullshit again - see the thing is this mf is reserved, superhuman and has an absurdly high pain tolerance so it's hard for him to sympathize exactly - he once caught you crying cause you had seen a mama chimpanzee kiss it's baby chimpanzee and hug it tightly and he will forever bring it up "zoro you remember that time you got lost in dru-" "yn, remember that time, we were passing through a jungle and you saw some chimp-" he ended up getting a sucker punch to the face he deserved it. - but just because words aren't his thing doesn't mean he isn't looking out for you - everytime you're laying there on the bed, unmoving, he'd wordlessly crawl into the bed next to you. he's give you a gentle back massage or start rubbing soothing patterns onto your belly "you want something?" he mumbles slowly, hands skimming softly over your waist - this man would not and i repeat absolutely would not allow you to do any physically demanding work though "hey, let me handle that" "zoro, i am not a child!" "you sure look like one to me." he snickers, "remember the time you saw that mom chimpan-" "zORO FUCK OFF!!" - you need something from the top shelf? he got it. you are helping ussop carry gunpowder from the storage? go sit down, your boyfriend's got it - does it sometime frustrate you? yes - does the crew use this opportunity to make his lazy ass do a fuck lot of chores? also yes - he will still 100% make ketchup jokes (he's gross like that) - but name one man who'll treat you more gently than this bozo, i dare you - it might be something as lame as a period, doesn't mean he woudn't go to the end of the world to make you feel slightly better (even if he teases you about it endlessly)

sanji's part <3 luff's part <3