#WHILE i was showing my friend something…..

[parfaitblogs]

state of grace ❀ s. reid x reader

in which your cat has taken liking to your friend with benefits, and you begin to battle with the consequential feelings. 

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: fluff (18+ for suggestive content) tags: established friends with benefits. reader has a cat. your cat likes him more than you :(  avoidant!reader for like a teensie second. it's okay happy ending. the happiest possible ending actually. fade to black. word count: 1.9k a/n: sometimes the most beautiful poetry can be about simple things. like a cat. :) im a dog person. idk why i wrote this.

Seventeen times.

That is how many times Spencer Reid had found residence at your apartment in the past month alone, taking up the space on the other side of your bed. Thirteen of those times he had stayed the night. Six of those times, he had come for sex. The other eleven? He had come because you needed a friend. 

Or, rather, your cat did. 

You had discovered you weren't any more complex than your average man, at the end of the day. Human beings are at their core created to love and be loved, and by extension, to want and be wanted. You wanted Spencer, and you were wanted by Spencer. For both your friendship, and the intimacy your relationship provided. 

But you did not love him, and he did not love you. 

Cat's are anything but fickle creatures. A lot of your best friendships were centred around whether or not your cat developed a liking to the person or not. Oftentimes, your fleeting relationships came down to the odd sixth sense the animal had for disliking the worst people. That, and your one night stands were never a crowd favourite within the walls of your apartment. And yet; Spencer Reid. 

He was nothing short of charming. In a sort of dorky way, yes. But whatever socially romantic skills he lacked, he most certainly made up for by giving you the best of just about everything in bed. A small part of you wants to claim it's human instinct to know how to worship the person meant for you, but the logical reason is probably his eidetic memory knowing exactly what he's doing after a singular trial run. Entertaining the thought of being his soulmate was not a wise choice.

He most certainly was your cat's, though. The Ragdoll always jumping down to greet him the second he stepped foot in your apartment, usually resulting in the break of a kiss and a five minute intermission before the two of you could do anything. 

At first, it was an inconvenience. Your cat had never taken such a liking to a person you'd brought home before, and it was jarring to watch a man you were partially trying to undress, stop everything to pet your cat. Now, it is simply endearing. You've stopped trying to steal Spencer's attention before the cat does, and you've come to the conclusion that Spencer's priority list will always be the feline, then you. 

Today was, seemingly, no different. Despite the dull ache between your legs and the fact that this visit had started as something as obscene as Spencer calling from his work bathroom to ask if he could come over after for he was, and you quote, in dire need to touch you (among many other things), whatever those needs were, were put on hold. 

You smile regardless, leaning against the edge of your couch as he crouches down to meet Po — yes, like the panda — his hand immediately reaching out for the cat to run his head along. 

Spencer's head lifts to look at you. "Morgan thinks Po isn't a real cat, and we've just got a name for your—um—" his brain catches up to his mouth mid sentence, and he's stammering his way to silence. 

"Please tell me you defended my cat's honour," you retort.

"I did! I even showed him the photo I took of him while you were in the shower last week. He thinks it's a different person's cat."

You shake your head in disapproval. "Unbelievable. Your coworker thinks we've named my pussy."

"That's just Morgan."

"I wish Po could speak English. Then he could hear this nonsense, and stop loving you more than me," you grumble, and Spencer's lips twitch up into a smile, as he situates himself on the floor, the cat climbing into his lap.

"Actually, he technically can. Cat's can understand up to thirty-five words in whatever language you train them in. Also, when they meow, they begin trying to mimic the sound of certain human words. It's their vocal tract that prevents them from literally speaking English," he explains.

But, you're too invested in the way his long fingers are delicately running through the cat's hair, to both respond, and really pay any attention at all.

You had had fleeting thoughts about real feelings for Spencer two months ago. Brushing them off as loneliness and your need to satiate the hopeless romantic within you, you'd forgotten about it up until this recent week.

He'd been over every single day, sometimes for sex, oftentimes for a movie and dinner (which was usually a bowl of pasta you had overestimated while cooking). And every single time, you'd developed an overwhelming anxious pit in your stomach when watching him interact with Po, your heart fluttering the entire time, mind running rampant on domestic thoughts you should be squashing. 

Should be, but weren't. 

You'd tried to put it down to the motherly instinct you had over the animal. Seeing somebody else treat him with as much love and care as you did was endearing — it wasn't a Spencer Reid specific trait. Yet, here you were. 

"I feel like the benefits of this relationship have changed," you say, seating yourself in front of Spencer on the floor, Po lifting his head to look at the person behind the sudden movement, before he let it rest back on Spencer's thigh. 

"To what?"

"My cat," you huff, and Spencer laughs.

"He is my favourite benefit thus far," he muses. 

"The feeling is definitely mutual," you nod your head to Po, whose eyes were now shut, seemingly quite comfortable disregarding all your personal plans and taking Spencer's attention.

"Animals don't usually like me," he comments. "I don't know why Po is different."

Oh, you had a few ideas why.

"Maybe he's exercising the keep your enemies closer life motto," you offer, and Spencer's eyebrows shoot up in faux offence. 

"This is unadulterated love," he protests. "He does not think of me as an enemy."

"That's what he wants you to believe," you hum, pushing yourself up on your legs. "Well, since plans have been rudely interrupted, do you want some dinner?" 

"Sure," he answers, though his attention is back on Po. Clearly so, for he says, "I'll get to our original plans after we eat, don't worry," almost absentmindedly.

It's the kind of thing that makes you forget you're in the room with the dictionary definition of a nerd. You know it's only because sometimes he says what he is thinking without thinking. It doesn't do anything to help the ongoing internal battle about your feelings for him. 

Or maybe he does know exactly what he's doing.

"You should get a cat," you say, heading into your kitchen to find something for the two of you to eat. "You seem to like them enough."

"Why? I have yours."

"I'm not going to be around forever," you reply, unthinking. "I mean, one day we're gonna have to end this because the other has found someone they want to be with. Properly. It wouldn't be fair to keep a friendship."

He falls silent, and when you lift your head, you see he's staring at you with an almost confused frown on his face, which triggers your own confusion to appear. His scratching of Po's head has been interrupted, and you're starting to question what was wrong about what you had said. 

Sure, you're pretty sure you have feelings for him, but as far as you knew, they were one sided. Right?

"I didn't—I thought—" he cuts himself off, takes a deep breath, then continues. "I thought that had changed this past month."

"What do you mean?"

"I just—I've been here for things other than sex a lot. I thought you knew I liked you, and you were subtly trying to tell me you liked me too. I'm starting to sense I misread that."

For a profiler, he was incredibly awful at reading you. 

"Yeah..." You slowly nod your head, but it's the deepening of his frown that has you rushing to add, "I mean, I—I do. Like you. I'm kind of embarrassed that was obvious. But I didn't think you liked me outside of having sex with me. I wasn't trying to communicate my feelings. I was trying to hide them."

"Oh," he falls silent again. "So the times I’ve been here in the past month weren’t makeshift dates?"

"They weren't intended that way..." you trail off. "Did you see them as dates?"

"Kind of, I guess," he's back to running his fingers through Po's fur, just to keep his anxious hands busy. "They don't have to be, if you don't want them to. I just thought this feeling was mutual and we were... I guess, dating."

"The feeling is mutual," you quickly correct him. "I know that now. I didn't think we were dating because I didn't think you liked me back. Changing our relationship kind of needs to be a conversation."

"Right," he breathes out, an awkward smile painting his lips. "Is this the conversation, then?"

"I guess?"

"So now we're dating."

"If that's what you want," you nod, head feeling a little fuzzy.

"Is it what you want?" he presses. Always the gentleman.

"Maybe," you muse, leaning forwards against the kitchen countertop. 

He's watching you, and for a second you let the silence fall over you, fearful that you've just discouraged him enough to ruin things between you. He carefully takes Po off his lap, the cat running into your room the second his paws hit the hardwood floor, and he's standing up to move over to you. 

"I don't like maybe," he frowns. "Yes or no?"

You blink, realising he was evidently too anxious of your genuine response to have any recognition to your poor attempt of a joke. 

"Yes, Spencer. That's what I want," you're breathless as you speak, and you're thankful for the relieved smile that stretches across his lips.

"That's what I want too," he answers. 

"Yeah, I figured." Your second attempt at a tease lands, and he huffs a small laugh, which warms your heart. "Do you still want dinner?"

He had somehow gotten closer to you throughout the awkward enough conversation, and he was sliding his arms around your waist. Something he had done many times before, yes, and yet this time it was feeling much more intimate, and your heart was thrumming against your chest a little harder than usual. 

"Maybe it can wait?" he offers, ducking his head down, lips ghosting over your own. "I don't have a bothersome cat keeping me preoccupied from you, now."

Despite yourself, you poke a finger into his chest and say, "Don't insult Po."

"I'm not. Just merely stating an obvious fact."

"I'll call him back in here to preoccupy me."

"He has selective hearing. And he likes me more than you."

Your lips drop into a frown, lower lip jutting out, and Spencer is quick to try and kiss it off within seconds of noticing it. 

"I'm sorry. That was mean. I promise he doesn't like me more than you," he says, though his voice is too amused to be entirely sincere. 

"That was mean," you agree with a firm nod. "You're very mean to me, Spencer Reid."

"I know, I'm awful. Can I make it up to you, sweet girl?"

Well, when he asks you like that.

"Mm..." you hesitate, but he's already guiding you around, walking you backwards, through your apartment and towards your bedroom. "Yeah, I guess so."

Hands that were around your waist hike your shirt up, his lips still kissing against your skin despite the intense multitasking he was forcing upon the two of you.

"Thank you."

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated ♡

[bloatedandalone04]

My Drug is My Baby

➪the one where you and rafe can’t keep your hands off each other during your honeymoon.

Warnings: kook rafe/pogue reader, swearing, fluff (barely), smut, unprotected sex, semi-public smut, slight exhibition kink, hair pulling, dirty talk, size difference/kink, cock warming i think, spanking (whoops), rafe’s an ass man, i said what i said, he’s also a dom, bc obviously. (all i’ve been thinking about lately is rafe, so i’m doing something about it, yw).

Word Count: 2.5k

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

Rafe never thought he’d be one to get his life in order or find a nice girl to settle down with and get married to, but here he is in a stunning (and very expensive) resort in Florida with you by his side. 

Wrapped around your finger were two rings, one holding a large, heavy diamond, and the other being a simple wedding band. ‘Simple’, yet it was embedded with smaller diamonds. 

Around Rafe’s finger was a gold band that showed every girl at this resort who gave him the ‘fuck me’ eyes how committed he is to you and only you, and how they could waste their time all they want. He’d be a fucking idiot to ever let you go. 

It was kind of crazy to think that less than a year ago, you were just another Pogue and he was a Kook who vowed to never do more than sleep with someone who was much less privileged than he was, but now he is married to you. Really, the standards of the society pretty much flew right out the window the second he saw you. 

You were drop dead gorgeous, the most beautiful girl Rafe had ever seen. And though his friends told him to not waste his time with someone like you, Rafe was really fucking glad that he promptly ignored them and got you to go on a date with him, because less than four months after that date, you were engaged, and only five months later, you were married. 

And now you were on your honeymoon and even more clingy and touchy than ever. Rafe never thought of himself as a very touchy person, but with you, he wanted to touch you all the time. Holding your hand in stores or on the street, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind when standing in lines, having his arm draped around your shoulders while sitting on the couch, or placing his hand on your thigh while in a car. 

Right now, he was leaning back on a pool lounger with you in his arms, your back pressed against his bare chest as his fingers traced random shapes onto the skin of your stomach. For some reason, ever since that first date, Rafe couldn’t seem to keep his hands off you. You were so much smaller than him, but you fit perfectly against him, he couldn’t help but want to touch you everywhere all the time. 

He had fallen so in love with you in so little time, he wasn’t sure if the honeymoon phase would ever end. And honestly, he didn’t want it to.

The sun was beating down on the both of you, but the breeze from the empty, still pool helped keep you from overheating. You sighed quietly, leaning more against him as you closed your eyes, the sun still very bright even through your sunglasses. “It’s so pretty here, Rae,” you mumbled, turning your head to place a soft kiss to his heated skin. “Makes me want to never leave. I want to stay right here, with you, for the rest of my life.”

That sounded amazing to Rafe, and he wouldn’t mind starting every morning exactly like this for the next week. He’d gone all out on both the wedding and the honeymoon, spending a pretty penny on them to ensure you’d have the best experience during both events. The room you were staying in was huge, and it has a huge bed that Rafe had fucked you in for a solid hour on your first night here.

He couldn’t help it and he couldn’t be blamed. You were his wife now. You were all his.  

Rafe laughed, the deep sound vibrating your back as his breath tickled the shell of your ear. “I’d be more than willing to stay right here if you want to spend the rest of your life on top of me,” he teased, his fingers dipping lower to brush against the inside of your thigh. “We’ve got a whole week ahead of us, baby. A week of doing nothing but this all day. And you’re looking really fucking hot right now.” His other hand moved to grope your breast, his thumb brushing against your nipple through the thin fabric of your bikini top as his lips found your pulse point and kissed it gently. 

“Rae,” you laughed quietly, pressing your thighs together as you leaned back against him more firmly, your sunglasses sliding down your nose until you just decided to take them off. “We’re in public…you can’t say that to me.” Your words were a feeble attempt at teasing him, because he had rented the room that came with the private pool and patio. No one was around to hear you, let alone see you. 

Rafe smirked, licking and sucking at your neck before he lifted his head, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “I can say whatever the fuck I want to my wife,” he murmured into your ear, his hand sliding back up your thigh until his fingers grazed the edge of your bikini bottoms. His teeth gently tugged at your earlobe as his hand slid beneath the red fabric, his lips curving when he heard your sharp inhale. “Are you forgetting that this place belongs to us for the next eight days? No one’s around to see my pretty girl get all needy for me.”

“Rafe,” you whined, biting down on your lip as you arched your back and subtly spread your thighs a bit wider. You turned your head again and pressed your face against the side of his neck, brushing soft kisses along his skin. “God, you’re so hot, baby.”

Rafe groaned, his cock starting to harden as his fingers slid through your slick folds. “Mmm, you’re so wet for me,” he mumbled, his middle finger dipping inside your wet heat before he pulled it back out and brought it up to his lips for a taste. “So fucking good, baby.”

He leaned in and kissed you deeply as his hands gripped your hips, turning you on his lap so you’re properly straddling him. Slowly, he guided you to grind against him, the outline of his cock evident through the dark fabric of his trunks. 

“Ride me, pretty girl,” he rasped against your mouth, his fingers playing with the thin strings of your bikini on either side of your hips. One pull, and your lower half would be bare, and the thought was becoming more and more appealing to him the longer you moved on top of him. 

“Like this?” You asked, already breathless as you caressed his face in your hands, your clothed pussy rubbing against his cock through the fabric of his shorts. 

Rafe groaned, tipping his head back on the chair. “Exactly like that, baby,” he muttered, his hands gripping your ass as he guided you to move a bit faster. “Just like that.”

The rough fabric of his swimming trunks brushed deliciously against your clit, making you moan a bit louder and brace your hands on his shoulders for more support. 

You were so hot, Rafe couldn’t believe that you were all his. The sexy, shameless woman riding his lap in public was all his. 

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he muttered, leaning up and capturing your lips in a searing kiss. His tongue brushed against yours, one of his hands tangling in your hair as he bucked up against you. He broke the kiss, his head dropping onto your shoulder as he grunted, “I need to be inside you, baby. Right now.” 

With that, he wrapped his arms under your thighs and lifted you as he stood up, carrying you towards the sliding doors that lead back into the suite. You squealed, wrapping your legs tighter around his waist as you peppered kisses along his neck. “You love me so much,” you teased, nuzzling your nose behind his ear as he slid the door closed behind him, not bothering to close the curtains as he walked over to the bed and pulled at the strings of your bikini bottoms, letting the damp fabric fall to the floor. 

“Yeah, I fucking do,” he agreed, giving your ass a firm squeeze before tossing you onto the king sized bed. You bounced a bit as you tried to steady yourself, a needy whine of excitement leaving your lips.  “Get on your knees for me, baby.”

When you quickly turned around and braced yourself up on your hands and knees, Rafe stepped towards the bed, one of his hands running along the length of your spine. His other hand came down onto your ass, giving it a sharp smack that made a loud moan slip past your lips. 

God, you were so fucking sexy and so perfect for him, Rafe would never get enough. “That’s for getting me so addicted to you,” he mumbled before pulling at the strings of his shorts and pushing them down his legs. He propped one knee up on the bed next to yours, keeping one foot planted firmly on the floor as gripped your waist. “You’re so perfect, aren’t you? My perfect girl.” 

Rafe gripped the base of his cock with one hand, running his length along your wet folds before bumping his tip against your clit a few times. “Rae,” you whined, clearly getting more and more riled up from his teasing. 

He smirked before guiding himself inside you, your soaked walls making him slide in with ease. Rafe groaned, his teeth sinking into his lip as he refrained from railing you like he wanted to. “Fuck, you’re tight,” he muttered, his palm soothing your reddening skin from his previous smack. 

When he pulled back nearly all the way and then slid right back in, you let out a loud moan, your hands fisting the sheets of the unmade bed. “Fuck,” you whimpered, your head falling forward as he began to slowly fuck you from behind. 

“That’s it, baby,” Rafe grunted, moving his hips in slow, deep thrusts as he pulled at the string of your top, making the fabric hang loosely from your neck before you tugged it off and tossed it aside carelessly. 

He leaned down and pushed your hair to the side so he could press open mouthed kisses to the back of your neck, one of his hands reaching around to squeeze your breast. His grip on your waist tightened as he increased the pace, the soft slap of skin on skin filling the room as he began to pound into you. 

“Fuck, you feel so good. So wet and tight for me,” he panted, leaning over you as he changed the angle just slightly. Your moans grew louder, your arms shaking a bit as his cock reached even deeper inside you, making his lips turn upwards in a smug smirk. “You like that, pretty girl? You love being stuffed full of me, don’t you?”

Rafe’s mouth was filthy both in and out of the bedroom, something he knew you loved, and that was very obvious from the way you clenched around him and got even louder. “Yes,” you answered, your body jolting forward with every deep thrust. “Fuck…yes.”

It was hard to believe that ten minutes ago, you were simply in his arms by the pool, and now here you are, on your hands and knees for him as he railed you from behind, your body completely bare for his greedy eyes and hands. His perfect little wife.

“Fuck, listen to those pretty noises you’re making,” he grunted, his hand gripping your waist tightly as he guided you back onto his cock. You were so tight, he could literally see the way your walls hugged him and took him in so deep every time he entered you, and the sight had his abs tensing as he groaned loudly. His free hand slid up your back until he had a fistful of your hair, and he tugged your head back just enough for you to feel it but not hard enough to hurt you. 

The bed, though sturdy, clearly wasn’t prepared for the rough fucking Rafe planned to give you every day for the next week since it creaked with every thrust, and he briefly wondered just how many honeymoon’s this suite had seen, and how many horny newly-weds this bed had fallen victim to. 

One thing he knew for sure was that you were the prettiest bride that had ever and will ever stay in this room, and he was one lucky fucker. 

When he gave your hair a sharp tug, you let out a whiny moan and clenched around him again, and Rafe knew you were close. “Yeah, that’s it. Cum for me, baby,” he rasped, speeding up even more until you were mumbling and moaning incoherently as your head tipped back onto his shoulder. He kissed all over the side of your neck and face as you came on his cock, his grip on your hair loosening as he fucked you through your high. 

“Rae,” you whimpered, shaking in his arms as you relied solely on him to keep you upright. 

“I got you, sweet girl,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your jaw as he slowed his pace, his own high creeping up on him. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum too, baby. You feel too good.” 

Your face turned a faint shade of pink as you leaned your head back on his shoulder, your arm lifting up as you tangled your fingers in his hair. “Cum for me, Rafe,” you encouraged weakly, nearly limp in his arms as you trembled from the sensitivity. 

His hand groped your breast, his thumb and index finger gently pinching your nipple as he buried himself as deep as physically possible and emptied himself inside you. “Fuck,” he grunted, pressing his face against the side of your neck as his hips jerked and stuttered, his cock filling you up with ropes of white. 

Once you had drained him of every drop, Rafe’s hand released your breast as his arm wrapped around your middle, slowly guiding you back on the bed as he leaned over you. 

“You’re so perfect, baby. I love you so fucking much, more than anything,” he mumbled, peppering your sweaty shoulder in kisses as he carefully rolled onto his side, pulling you with him so he was holding you from behind. “Stay just like this…I don’t wanna pull out yet.”

His words were slurred as his body still thrummed with the aftershocks, his big hand splayed across your stomach as he nuzzled his face against your neck. You hummed, pressing yourself more firmly against him. “Then stay inside me,” you mumbled, “We’ll stay like this for as long as you want to.” 

Rafe grinned lazily, holding you close to him. “I’m gonna hold you like this forever,” he said, his voice muffled against your neck as his thumb stroked along your stomach. “Never letting you go.”

Even though it was just past noon, you both had grown rather tired from that intense workout you just got finished doing. A quick nap sounded fucking amazing right now, especially if he got to stay connected with you and have your body wrapped up in his arms the whole time. 

This was heaven, Rafe decided, and he never wanted to go a single day without you ever again. 

And luckily, he would never have to.

[motorsportbarbie13]

The Yapping Hour Is Upon Us - Part 4

In which you escape to paradise with the love of your life.

Warnings: nothing unless you hate happiness. Pairing: Max Verstappen x Podcaster!Reader Word Count: 2.4k

- The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - Part 2 - The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - Part 3 - Master List

Phulay Bay, Thailand July, 2025

yourpersonalinsta posted

456,938 likes liked by taylorswift, redbullracing, alexandrasaintmleux, and others. yourpersonalinsta out of office tagged: maxverstappen1 kikagomes omg where are yoooou? >>>yourpersonalinsta thailand! he planned literally everything. all i had to do was show up. user928 max is never beating best boyfie on the grid allegations now redbullracing bring us back a coconut! >>>yourpersonalinsta hahahaha think max can smuggle one out in his backpack??? >>>redbullracing if he tries hard enough, he can do anything!

"Max, where'd you go?" You call, voice echoing out over the empty terrace of the beach villa Max had booked for you two during F1's summer break.

Last year, the two of you had spent a few weeks on a boat off of the Amalfi coast with some of your friends but this year, it was just the two of you. This entire trip had been a complete surprise, Max having planned the entire thing. You had gotten a text one afternoon just a few days into the month long F1 break from Max telling you to pack a bag (heavy on the bikinis and lingerie, as personally requested by your boyfriend) and to be ready to leave the apartment in Monaco in an hour.

You had bustled about, a mix of excitement and anxiety twisting in your chest. To be quite honest, you had been looking forward to having some down time at home, just the two of you. It had only been a few months since you had permanently moved from New York to Monaco and you were far from settled, having spent most of the first half of the year traveling with Max.

The moment Max burst into your shared apartment though, all of your anxieties evaporated into thin air. He had never looked more relaxed than he had that morning, telling you he was taking you on a trip and to not ask any questions. You, of course, dutifully obeyed.

Which was how you found yourself at one of the most private and romantic beach resorts in Thailand, currently looking for your seemingly missing boyfriend. You'd been here for a few days now, soaking in the sand and sun and quiet peacefulness the resort had to offer. Mornings were spent slowly in bed, breakfast often skipped in favor of time spent underneath (or on top of) Max. Afternoons scuttled by slowly, spent under the sun on the beach in your bikini being oogled by Max. And nights were spent together, either in the media room of the villa watching movies or under the stars talking about anything and everything with the man that had completely stolen your heart.

It was in those quiet moments, while you sat snuggled up between Max's legs, back pressed firmly into his chest, on the beach where you were in awe of how much your life had changed in a little over a year. How quickly Max had swooped into you life, into your heart, and never left.

The villa is quiet and empty, you assume that Max has wandered down onto the beach or out near the private pool while you had taken a quick shower before your dinner reservations. Something on the bed catches your eye though and you cross the wooden planked floor to read the note that sits on top of a white linen dress.

My love, I know we had reservations at the resort's resturant tonight but I took the liberty of moving that to some place a little quieter. Put on the dress and meet me out on that little bluff where we always watch the sunset, dinner is waiting. all of the love my soul possesses, Max

Tears prick at your eyes when you finish the note. Laying on the bed is a white linen dress that you had no idea was even in the villa. It's brand new, you'd never even seen it before. The moment you pull it on over your head, you can't help but be impressed. It fits like a dream and when you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, you can't help but smile. The dress is cut perfectly to your figure, the neckline scooping down low to show off an extra bit of clevege and the hem hitting just below your knee. You're not quite sure how Max did it, but the dress fits you like a glove.

Your hair is still a bit damp, but you're eager to find where Max is and what he's up to tonight so you opt for a long braid down your back.

When you step out on the back veranda of the villa, the sun is hanging low in the sky, just above the sparkling blue water that stretches out in front of you. The resort sits on a little bluff overlooking the ocean, romantically tucked into the side of rolling green hills and a lush forest behind you.

Just beyond the edge of the villa's back yard is a little outcropping of land that juts over the beach below. Every night since you had arrived, Max had insisted on making a point to sit on this little private bluff and watch the sun go down. No matter what you were doing or what you had planned that evening, watching the sunset tucked deeply in Max's arms, became a tradition you wanted to continue forever.

The cool grass tickles your bare feet as you cross the lush green lawn. For a moment, you don't even look towards where you know Max is standing because you're so distracted by the crash of the ocean waves and glimmer of the sunset on the water. When you do look over though, you stop in your tracks, pupils blowing wide at the scene before you.

There, right on your little plot of paradise, stands your boyfriend. He's surrounded by what looks like hundreds and hundreds of white hydrangeas arranged in a large circle. Clusters of candles dot the edge of the circle casting a soft glow over the entire scene.

Max stands in the middle of all of this, his hands stuffed deep into the pockets of his khaki shorts. He's wearing the navy linen shirt you bought him for his birthday last year, top few buttons undone at his throat. The breeze off the water tugs a bit at his hair, long from a busy season with little time to stop and get a haircut. The fact that you liked his hair longer also had a lot to do with him refusing to cut it lately, but he'd never admit that to anyone but you.

When Max sees you walk out of the villa for the firs time, he thinks he might just pass out right there. The dress Kika and Alexandra had helped him pick out was the prettiest thing he'd ever seen you wear, besides that navy and red lacy lingerie set you had worn for his birthday last year, of course. He had been planning this for months now, much to Daniel and Lando's surprise. His two friends were the only other people who knew what this entire trip was really about. They had expressed their surprise at the plans since you hadn't even celebrated your one year anniversary when he had set all of this in motion. Max had simply replied with 'when you know you know' and no one had questioned it again.

The red and gold ring box sits heavy in his pocket, his fingers tracing anxious patterns over it's smooth surface. He wasn't nervous about what he was going to do. No, what he was about to do was the most confident and self assured decisions he had ever made. What he was nervous about was you saying no. He wasn't sure if his heart would be able to take a rejection.

Your heart hammers in your chest as you approach Max. Unsure but confident about what's about to happen all at the same time. The conflicting emotions whirl around in your stomach in a hurricane of anxiety and shock.

"Hi baby." Max murmurs as soon as you step into the circle with him. His arms reach for you and to his great relief, you melt into him eagerly.

"Hi." Your voice nothing but breathy whisper. A smile that could power most of Europe shimmers across your face. "What's all this?"

"I know I said we were going to eat dinner out here, but I wanted to talk to you first." Max buries his head in your hair, inhaling the sweet and spicy scent of your shampoo, still lingering in your hair after your shower.

He takes a few moments and you are simply content to enjoy the feeling that settles over you. Outside of this little bluff, nothing else exists and you could stay here for the rest of your life and be completely content.

When Max pulls himself together, he pulls back a little so he can see you without craning his neck. "The moment you smiled at me the first time, my entire world shifted beneath my feet." His voice is rough, Dutch accent becoming more prominent the more emotional he gets. "The first time I kissed you in my drivers room in Miami, I knew I was done. I have never met a kinder, more ambitious, or more confident woman than you. Just being able to exist in your orbit has been the blessing I never knew I needed. I know it hasn't been long but I can't figure out how I ever managed to exist before you and I never want to find out what it feels like to exist after you."

Max pauses then, drawing in a shaky breath. Blood rushes past your ears as your knees threaten to buckle. You had hoped this day would come for you and Max but you had never expected it to be so quickly. Like Max, you had known pretty fast that he was it for you. You had tried to fight the growing feeling that your relationship could work its way into marriage but as you continued to settle further into life with him, you fought the feeling less and less.

He sinks to his knee then and looks up at you, those ice blue eyes that you dream about shining up at you. "I want to see you walk down the aisle towards me in a white dress. I want to see your belly grow when you carry our babies. I want to hear my children call you their mama and I want your babies to call me daddy. I want all of this and an entire lifetime of love with you and only you. Will you give me that, baby? Will you marry me?"

For a moment you're completely unable to breathe. The words Max said to you etched themselves onto your bones, words you'd never forget until your dying day. They were words that were to be written down. Words that your grandchildren would cry over one day when they stumbled upon your old journals in the attic.

Those kinds of things, those words, deserved to live in the universe alone for a bit, they're so powerful. You gave them space and respect, allowing what Max had said to you wash over your body.

"Oh my God. Of course. Yes. Please." You babble, really unable to make your mouth move in the way you want it. All you know is that you had never been so certain about anything in your entire existence.

Max slips the massive rock onto your finger before standing up to his full height. The diamond that winks up at you in dim candlelight is something that could be compared to the iceberg that sunk the titanic. Once the ring is secured on your hand, tonight's second perfect fit, Max catches your chin in his fingers to tip your head up towards him. When he kisses you, lips meeting yours so achingly tender, the entire world goes quiet. Everyone who could have possibly existed simply vanishes.

You stay like that for several moments, caught up in your boyfri- no, not boyfriend, fiance's arms and simply kiss him with every ounce of love you can wring out of your soul. His tongue licks into your mouth, eliciting a kitten like mewl of pleasure from the back of your throat. It's a sweet and tender kiss, soft and celebratory after what's just occurred.

"I love you." You say against his lips when you need a moment to breathe.

"I love you too. More than life, lifeje." Max's hand comes up to frame the side of your face, rubbing his thumb across your swollen bottom lip.

All you can do is stare up at him, pupils blown wide open. "How long have you been planning this? I can't believe you did all this...for me? Just for me?" For someone who has often gone unseen in their own family, being doted on like Max does is sometimes confusing.

"Months. I've had help. Danny and Lando helped decide where and how to do this." You can't help but chuckle at the thought of Daniel and Lando, two of Max's most unserious and unmarried friends, helping him plan a proposal.

"Alexandra and Kika too. They helped with the dress."

Your eyes widen in surprise. "Those two bitches knew and didn't tell me!"

Max tilts his head back and laughs heartily. The sound sends a zing down your spine. "No, although I suspect they might have figured it out. I just told them I was taking you on a surprise date and needed help with an outfit."

"And of course I did all of this for you." Max continues, face turning serious. "I did this all for you because I wanted you to know how important you are to me. How much I need you in my life. You're my everything, baby."

Emotion clogs your throat as you fight to keep the tears from falling. "I can't wait to be your wife, Maxie."

yourpersonalinsta posted

1,293,938 likes liked by kikagomes, yourdad, danielricciardo, and others. yourpersonalinsta girlfriend < fiancé 💍 kikagomes ahhhhhhh congratulations pretty girl!!! you are going to make the most beautiful bride. WAIT OMG, is this why Max had Alex and I help buy that dress????? >>>yourpersonalinsta yes 🤭 love you kiks >>>user928 i'm sorry but am i reading this right? max had alex and kika help buy the dress that he had her wear to her own engagement. idk if i'll ever recover from this. user02938 MOM AND DAD ARE GETTING MARRIED landonorris glad he finally did it so i can stop hearing about how excited he is. >>>yourpersonalinsta love you too, lando >>>landonorris ❤️ maxverstappen1 can't wait to start calling you mrs. verstappen >>>user0283 i cannot be normal about this >>>user0029 i have no one to send this too redbullracing our favorite couple together forever!!! congrats you two (liked by author and maxverstappen1)

tags: @shelbyteller @formulaal @martygraciesversion381 @longhairkoo @samantha-chicago @stelena-klayley

[wonderjanga]

Can I Please be Your Friend?

Billy doesn’t have friends. Between being Marvel and working odd jobs, he hasn’t really had the time some. So when he got invited to join the newly formed Justice League. He was ecstatic! Sure, these people were at least a very minimum of 20 years older than him and sure they would probably talk about taxes and stuff, but superhero friends! Meanwhile, the Justice League is like, “wow this guy is so social. I like it!”

Marvel: “You have a lighthouse…?” *sounds so amazed*

Aquaman: “Yeah. My dad was a lighthouse keeper so I got it when he passed.”

Marvel: “That’s so awesome! Can I come over?”

Aquaman: “Oh, okay? Sure?” *a little surprised he asked but eh whatever*

That was how Arthur spent the day showing Cap around the lighthouse. The man was a really good listener and was surprisingly very interested in listening to Arthur talk about how to use the light. You couldn’t even ask Arthur how they both ended up jumping off the railings of the lighthouse of dive into the water. You also couldn’t ask him how they ended up having a water fight, with the Atlantean calling for some sea creatures as back up. You also also couldn’t ask him how shocked a hotdog vendor was when he saw Captain Marvel and Aquaman, both of which who are supposed to be revered heroes, soaked, looking like wet dogs, asking for a couple of hotdogs after they nearly caused a tidal wave.

They got scolded by Batman a little while later for acting like children and almost causing the previously mentioned tidal wave. It was a little funny to see Batman scolding a man a solid two feet taller than him.

Soon after that whole incident, Marvel went to befriend Martian Manhunter next.

Marvel: *staring at J’onn while holding a box of cookies*

MM: *can hear him thinking about how to approach him and looks over to Marvel*

Marvel: *thinks a little too loudly and J’onn hears a nearly deafening “FRIEND”*

MM: *flinches and clutches his head* “Captain. Is something the matter.”

Marvel: “Oh uh…” *walks over and looks between the cookies and J’onn* “I was uh- wondering if you wanted to eat these with me.”

And that’s how J’onn spent the rest of the afternoon eating cookies with Marvel. J’onn had at first thought Marvel was quiet because he was something humans called awkward. But no, every now and then, when J’onn forgot that humans preferred to keep their thoughts private, he’d hear how happy Marvel was that he accepted. He’d also heard a couple other voices which was slightly concerning. He didn’t know if that was normal for humans or not.

Then, the next was Batman. Bruce honestly didn’t even know how they had started talking about this. All he knows is that they were talking about the team’s performance in the field, then that somehow transitioned into talking about superheroes in general, which then somehow led to fictional superheroes, which led to now:

Marvel: “Oh, you like Gray Ghost?”

Batman: “I was… a fan of him when I was a child.” *doesn’t know why he’s telling Marvel this*

Marvel: “Cool! Did you see the movies?”

From there on was a forty minute yapping session about Gray Ghost, his lore, the movies, the comics, the action figures, and so on.

Marvel: “I even had his comics as a kid too.”

Batman: “Really? Reprints or originals?”

Marvel: “I wanna say originals? What do you mean by reprints though?”

Batman: “Reprinting is when they take a comic, and remake it to look a little better, such as brighter colors or slightly tweaked dialogue, so they can sell it again.”

Marvel: “Oh. Then I’d say I probably have originals then.”

Batman: “Interesting. Those are collectors items now. They go for thousands.”

Marvel; “Really?!” *eyes nearly bug out of his skull* “Huh. I had no idea. Which ones did you have?”

Batman: “Mostly reprints. But I do have a couple originals on display.”

So yeah. The two were geeking out and stuff. Bruce honestly has literally no one to talk about this with so he’ll admit he was a little (a lot) happy.

We can’t forget the other JL heroes though.

Flash: “Like, he is so nice, and for what?”

GL: “I know right he let me ramble for like 45 minutes about planes! He was asking questions too!”

Supes: “And he’s always willing to help with anything. I didn’t even get to finish asking if he could cover my monitor shifts before he said yes.” *sounds slightly guiltily (he still feels bad for asking)*

In conclusion, Billy really wants to be friends with these guys, and his methods are definitely working.

[babygorewhore]

You can be just friends…right?

Best friend Rafe Cameron x alt!fem reader!

Being polar opposites of Rafe Cameron at first you clashed but eventually, you became close. After driving you to his house to celebrate an accomplishment, Rafe sees Topper hitting on you and finally lets himself be vulnerable.

Thank you to @bloodibambiidoll for helping me with the headers and letting me brainstorm! @cyberangel-graphics divider credit!

Warnings! Reader is inspired by Wednesday Addams! Season 4 era Rafe. Canon! Rafe! Oral! Fem receiving, praise, he lightly holds readers neck, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, barely edited because I’m ill.

“For someone who dresses like a witch, you take the girliest drinks.” Rafe set the coffee cup in front of you and sat across from you. You gave him a side glance while typing on your laptop, mumbling a thanks.

Rafe Cameron, an unlikely companion you met in your junior year in high school while he was a senior a long time ago. The friendship evolved after a healthy rivalry because you met his horrible attitude with dry wit.

But you had a fondness for the crash out oldest Cameron offspring. Who was arranging meetings and “handling business.” As he liked to put it. You were writing up the latest chapter of your fan fiction. A popular story that got good traction. It was also something Rafe never ceased to tease you about whenever he glanced at the words you came up with.

Rafe insisted on driving you to local animal shelter you volunteered at twice a week because normally you walked or drove the quote, “Death trap.” That he threatened to have removed from your garage.

And due to his busy schedule, this was one of the few times during the week you were able to physically spend time together.

“You hear the news about Sarah and uh, John B?” Rafe bright your attention away from the musing of your thoughts and you met his icy stare.

“My relationship with your middle sister is polite at best, Rafe. So, no.” You quipped and he exhaled sharply.

“Why do you talk like that-nevermind. Nah, she’s having a baby and I need help picking out a gift. She doesn’t know the gender yet but I could use your help.” He sounded…pained and you gently closed your laptop.

Your black nail polish shined, the skull ring on your ring finger a gift from Rafe six months ago. “Babies aren’t exactly my specialty, Rafe and seeing you as an Uncle is really funny but can’t you get Wheezie to help you?”

“Wow, okay, I come to you with a genuine question and you’re blowing me off.” He accused and you lightly kicked him with a boot.

“Enough with the dramatics. I’ll sign my name on the card and we’ll consider that my contribution.”

“A card? For what?” You huffed at his lack of knowledge.

“I suppose I can…try.”

That interaction concluded a typical day between you both. Later that week, Rafe landed a massive business deal that secured a lot of money. Naturally, your outgoing best friend wanted to celebrate. His definition of having a good time and yours differed massively.

Rafe announced that he was having a party and you were coming. He didn’t ask. Knowing you’d say no so instead his solution was to show up to your apartment, holding a black bag and a large cup of coffee.

“Don’t look at me like that, Monster High. Just take the bag.” Rafe ordered and you accepted it. He stepped inside your home, leaned against the wall and made a motion with his hand.

“Go change and I’m taking you to my place.” He saw the way your nose crinkled and his hands set firmly on your shoulders.

Physical contact wasn’t uncommon from Rafe but lately it happened a lot more. Brushes against your back, a hand on the knee or smoothing away your hair. You weren’t the best at guessing intentions so it made you feel conflicted.

You liked it. You liked the gestures. And you were embarrassed to. Your best friend made it abundantly clear he wasn’t interested in commitments and verbalizing his emotions definitely wasn’t his strong suit.

You wrote it off as pure thoughtless action as you changed clothing in your bedroom. You glanced in the mirror, already knowing it fit perfectly. It was a black dress, shorter than you normally wore and the bodice hugged your curves.

You came out, after customizing the outfit with fishnets and chunky shoes. Rafe straightened, his tall form stiffening at the sight of you approaching him. His jaw flexed and he opened his mouth to say something before deciding otherwise.

“Let’s go.”

You had busied yourself with setting up the music, straightening furniture and making sure the pool sparking until Rafe basically hauled you to socialize. You knew the guests but didn’t particularly enjoy them. But Rafe liked attention. He liked being around people who admired him and earning respect. He walked off, momentarily distracted by Barry and you took the opportunity to speed walk to the kitchen.

You poured yourself a soda, revealing in the brief moment of quiet when you felt a presence behind you. Turning, you saw Topper side step and stand before you. He gave you a friendly smile and instinctively pulled you into a greeting hug. You barely returned it, grimacing at the unwelcome contact and stood awkwardly.

“Hello.”

“Hey, how you doing? You look beautiful.” You almost felt…bad for him. You knew he meant it but he was just so…not your type.

“Thank you, Topper. How are you?” You felt like chewing glass at the small talk but he seemed to take it the wrong way. Topper moved even closer, mustering all the charm he could.

“Better now that I’m talking to you, pretty girl. What made you decide to join a party? It’s not your scene, huh?”

God, you wanted the earth to swallow you. But if you left, you’d be back with the crowd and loud music. Sweaty bodies and the sweltering sun. You debated sending a smoke signal but Topper’s hand fell on your arm.

Your eyes widened and he leaned down to whisper. “I mean we can always go somewhere more private.”

“For what?” You questioned and moved your head back.

“Jesus, I leave for two seconds and you’re already chomping at the bit, bro.” Rafe’s voice sounded more like salvation but the anger in his eyes took you aback.

“She’s off limits, man and I’ve told you that shit more than once. When are you gonna get it through your thick skull?” Rafe touched his fingers to his temples and you looked back and forth between the males.

“I didn’t realize that she was collared by you, Rafe. Thought you were just friends?” Topper shot back and you peered at Rafe.

“It’s not a big deal, Rafe. Why are you acting like this?” You questioned and he shook his head.

“Just leave her alone. She obviously doesn’t like you.” Rafe gave Topper a threatening glare and you rolled your eyes.

You crossed your arms and stepped directly in front of your best friend.

“What’s going on with you? Lately, you’ve been different. Short tempered, more than before and now this. Is there something going on?”

Your direct question made Rafe take hold of your elbow. “cmon. I don’t wanna do this right here.”

“No. You can tell me here. Now.” You sternly replied and swatted his hand away. “What’s wrong with you?”

Rafe looked on the verge of losing his mind and he looked at Topper. “Will you take a fucking hint, dude? Go!” He shooed him and you heard footsteps descending.

You held your ground and stared him in the eye. “I’m waiting.”

“Look. I know this was a weird, shitty way to do this and you know I’m not good at the whole feeling thing. But I wanted to do something nice for you tonight. I wanted you to-I wanted to tell you that you’re important to me.” He was stumbling and scratching the back of his neck.

You raised an eyebrow. “So…you throw a party, knowing I don’t like them, drive me here after buying me this dress just to tell me I’m important?” You parroted and he groaned.

“No! I mean-yeah but-damn it.” Rafe stopped speaking but cupped the back of your head. You gasped as he brought his lips to yours in a slightly open mouthed kiss. His other hand pressed you against him by splaying on your lower back, deepening your lip lock.

His mouth was soft, dominant as he met your tongue and squeezed your hip. Shock disappeared and you kissed him back. Your stomach had butterflies and your center tightened as Rafe’s thick fingers found the top of your ass.

Your lipstick was most likely ruined as Rafe sucked your lower lip but ripped himself away. He breathed heavily and tossed a side glance around him.

“Let’s go,” He took your hand and started quickly walking. You jogged to keep up with his pace.

“Rafe, where are we going?” You asked but he kept moving, his steps quick and you saw the familiar door of his bedroom.

He pulled you inside, closing the door behind him and he went to bring you back to him but you held up a palm.

“Wait. What, what is this?” You were finally collecting your thoughts after the heated kiss, your nerve endings in overdrive and your skin burning. Catching a glimpse of yourself in his mirror, you saw your smeared lipstick and you sighed exasperatedly.

“What’s what? I told you earlier,” Rafe began but you interrupted.

“I know what you said. But what does that mean? In this moment. Do you just want to hook up? Is that why you just brought me in here? Is that all you want?” He didn’t miss the pointed accusation but he didn’t respond in anger.

Rafe touched his shaved scalp, chest deflating. “I get why you’d think that but no. I don’t wanna just fuck you. I like you. I like your little weird quirks. I like how you’re not afraid of what people think. I don’t want you to be any different.”

You remained silent, letting him find his words.

“Look. It’s more than…liking you. I love you,” Rafe spoke your name with a tenderness you rarely heard. Your heart swelled at his confession.

“Seeing you is the best part of my week. Talking to you is one of the only things that keep me from losing my mind. You’ve been there for me when everything went to shit and when I lost my dad (TW WARD mention)” Rafe took a step forward, his fingers twitching as if he wanted to touch you.

“And you’re always calling me out when I act like a dick. Which is a lot.” He bit his lower lip and your gaze flickered between his face to the floor.

“I mean can you blame me? For falling for you?” Rafe chuckled, bright teeth showing and you swallowed. Trying to moisten your dry mouth.

“Rafe, this doesn’t seem real.” You confessed. “I mean you’ve always talked about not wanting to settle down and why should I believe that I’ll be any different?”

Rafe perked up, not dissuaded and his palms finally settled on your waist. It was comfortable, despite the way your belly hurtled at his attempt at being gentle.

“Wait, that’s not a no. That’s not a rejection, do you love me?”

You felt completely naked. He was imploring you with his perfect face and intense eye contact. You weren’t good at living in the moment. You were always overthinking. And this wasn’t a cookie cutter situation. Rafe had problems. Deep ones. So did you.

But you couldn’t lie to him.

“Yes, Rafe. I love you too.” It was a shaky admission but he seized the opportunity and kissed you again.

He pressed so hard you could feel his teeth and he looped his arms around your back. Rafe lifted you off the ground, making you squeak in surprise and he landed you both on his bed.

You’d fantasized about this plenty of times but it was even better. Rafe was strong, his firm body easily weighed yours down and he effortlessly shifted your body higher. He cupped your jaw and massaged your tongue with his.

You moaned softly and then louder as he kneaded your tits. Rafe messily peppered kisses along your neck, sucking your sweet spot and your back arched. His ring clad fingers were warm as he lifted the bottom of your dress up. Exposing your body and black underwear.

“God you’re so fucking pretty. You gonna let me show you that, baby?” He breathed and dragged his lips against your upper stomach, down, down and Rafe inhaled the scent from your open legs.

His big hands peeled off your panties and he grunted deep in his chest as he looked at the wetness in the center.

“Well, you’ve been needing this, huh?” Rafe mused and caused you to whimper as he dragged his tongue to the middle of your underwear.

“If that tastes sweet, I bet the source is even better.” Without another second hesitation, Rafe pushed your thighs apart, encouraging you to put them over his shoulders. Your heels dug into his back as he dived in.

Rafe didn’t eat pussy that often. He usually warmed a girl up with his fingers before fucking her senseless. But with you, his dick throbbed at the taste of your cunt as he lapped away. He was a little aggressive, moving his head back and forth. Digging his fingers into the meat of your thighs but your groans and the way you set your hand on his head drove him crazy.

“Mhm, fuck, yeah i know. Prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen.” Rafe praised and separated your folds. He sucked your clit and gently nipped with his teeth. Soothing it immediately and you were almost seeing stars as you rode his face.

He gave you an encouraging slap on the ass and brought you impossibly closer. You knew he probably couldn’t breathe but when Rafe tongue fucked your entrance and then dragged back to your clit it caused you to be embarrassingly loud.

“I’m cumming, I’m cumming-Rafe-“ you chanted and he pried your legs back open to lick you through it. Your body trembled and your eyes fluttered open as he crawled up.

The sight of his glistening chin and mouth was the hottest thing. Rafe gripped your cheeks. “Give me those fucking lips,” And he fused them together.

You tasted the remnants of yourself as you put your hands underneath his shirt. Rafe impatiently took it off, quickly kissing you again and his fingers made work to remove his pants.

“Gonna fill you up, princess. Need to fuck your pussy,” He almost sounded on the brink of begging and you sighed in admiration as you glanced at his cock.

Rafe took the leaking tip and ran it along your slit. Tapping the head against your puffy clit and he pushed into you. The stretch ached for a second but then the way he hit the deepest spot in you made your eyes roll back.

You wrapped your legs around his waist and Rafe moaned deep in his chest. His lips found your ear, “You feel so good, fuck, I’ve been wanting this. You can take it, atta girl.”

He clamped your thigh down, holding it against the mattress, spreading you as open as possible and his other hand settled lightly around your neck. Your mouth parted and Rafe thrusted harder. Balls thudding against your ass.

“Taking me like a good girl, that’s it. Move with me,” Rafe ordered and you were fucked out completely but obeyed him.

You took his fingers in your mouth when he moved his hand, sucking softly and Rafe smiled at you with his slight smugness.

“Just Fucking your best friend and you’re already brainless. Give it to me, let me have your cum,” Rafe looked down at your connected bodies and gave you a deep roll of his hips.

You let out a sob, tears streaming down your face and mascara running down your cheeks. Your orgasm came like a tidal wave and you buried your face into Rafe’s neck, biting lightly on his shoulder.

Rafe was right behind you, emptying his cum in your pussy and he moaned thickly. His arms squeezed you a bit too tight but it was comforting. You still moved, hooking your knee against his ribcage and flipped him on his back.

Rafe let out a noise of surprise but then his blue eyes were darkened with lust. Your hands ran down his chest as sweat decorated your skin. Your jeweled fingers and bracelets clinked as you teasingly dragged your nails on his shoulders.

“I like seeing you confident. It’s hot.” Rafe smirked and reached up to brush a knuckle against your cheekbone. “Mmm, you’re so pretty y’know? I’ve always thought that. Even with all that on your face.”

You rolled your eyes but gave him a returning smile. Straddling his lap, you gently bounced right above his dick. “Bet you’re just saying that.”

He rested his head back, cupping your ass and meeting your motions. “Nah, you know I mean it.”

“So, what now?”

“We figure it out. But for now,” Rafe leaned up and you felt his abs tighten. “You gonna let me feel that pretty little pussy again?”

Tagging @cxrrodedcoffin @marchsfreakshow @dirtylittlefairytales @starkeysprincess @starkeysbabygirl @cameronsprincess @stillwjk-channie-lixie @gri959 @userchai @eddieslut69 @rafeinterlude @eddiesxangel @rafeyscurtainbangs @fear-is-truth @sturnioloshacker @decodedlvr @oceanblvd111 @oceandriveab

[lovelytayforce]

I agree with this comment here so hard, I remember getting blasted for calling readers who don't comment "leeches" on R/Fanfiction and I'm glad people are seeing that for what it is even if it's four years late

So, I'm gonna share my own little story here because discord has actively ruined communities for fanfic (and art too I'm not gonna leave y'all out cause my bestie @zoetiger-1106 is an artist who deserves way more praise than she gets!!) The reason why authors and myself see the "I'm shy" shit as an excuse is because the same people will type long ass tirades on Discord without a single thought. YOU CAN EDIT AO3 COMMENTS PEOPLE! If you make a mistake, read it back over and edit it. I've watched it happen in real-time with one of my favorite commenters on my one-shot where they left a short gushing comment and then came back and wrote more, you have no excuse much less reason to go "Man fandom keeps telling me to not critique and I might make a mistake so I will say nothing and consume like the average TV and Streaming consumer who thinks there doing something!" YOU have a lot of power with comments and even those bookmark tags hell just copy-paste what you put into those bookmark tags as a comment I DON'T CARE AT THIS POINT USE THAT LIL BOX TO VOICE SOMETHING!!!! God this is all over the place idc but I read back at those bookmarks, and saw people call my works the best and super cool and I APPRECIATE THAT but tell me! Stop taking the easy route, I been blasted for misunderstandings over comments multiple times cause people take my "tone" terribly cause it sucks being black and emotive online yay and for some reason people think !!!! Is bad? yes, I've been hit with that but I keep on trucking cause fuck whatever some weirdo thinks about exclamation points! Anyways back to discord and why I hate it now, I was in a small fandom, KFP got invited to a discord cause ONE person commented on my works and saw they talked about my fic, and at first, I was happy and people TALKED about my chapters at length in the fanfic channel. I basically was the ONLY ONE posting consistently in that channel and it was great but also I wanted that on my fic to show I improved so guess what I did? I went all in trying to one-up myself to be noticed, to have the acclaim my peers did so it would evolve outside of discord channels but it never happened. And Imma tell y'all now; it never will. Readers prefer convenience over your hard work, they are not gonna take time for you no matter how much you improve. People told me over and over while I looked for solutions for this; "We can't make commenting look like an obligation." "Add more prose, space these paragraphs better" all this just for no one to take the initiative and say something SINCERE towards a work they love on it. I've had to tell my own ex-friends now to go leave comments on works they called Masterpieces while ignoring me. Despite the fact they wanted Gen content in which I WROTE. Or met people who have very weird "I don't review" rules for themselves despite getting motivated by reviews themselves!! We're in a shitty time for creatives much less community cause we don't see each other as humans much less want to treat each others as we desire to be treated. Fanfic readers want to treat authors like showrunners and I hate it. But then your peers will tell you 'not to worry about engagement" and no I am because why is my hit count going up every day but ain't no one saying shit? Make it make sense!! I sat in that community commenting as much as I could, especially on long fics; it wasn't all perfect but I TRIED. I didn't expect shit back but hey it would have been nice but it never happened and again I learned; it never would. That's the real issue, no one wants to give no more; just take and take and take til you're sucked dry of passion worse than any corpo out right now. It's why I thankfully switched fandoms. I got ONE consistent commenter and they are better than that ENTIRE SMALL CLOSED COMMUNITY!! So, to any discord reactor for fanfic you better skip on to that message you made and copy and paste it in this box right here and never utter "I'm shy" ever again cause we see you, our friends tell us about you. You are not as anonymous as you think! 🫵🏽

A writer friend told me something that broke my heart a little bit today; they're going to quit publishing their fanfic.

My instant thought was that they had been trolled or attacked or that something terrible had happened in their life because this person is so passionate about their writing. It wasn't any of that. Engagement with their works has been going down, as it has for many of us. Comments are like gold dust a lot of the time, and just looking through the historical comment counts on old fics on ao3 demonstrates this trend very clearly. It was not simply the comments dropping off which caused them to decide to stop posting, however.

My friend came across a discord server for their fandom (I should point out here that their fandom interest and mine diverged a couple of years ago, we stay in touch but don't currently read each other's posts because I'm not into their fandom and they would rather gouge their eyes out with a wooden spoon than read anything Star Wars) and specifically to share fic in that fandom. They joined, because we all love a good fic rec, only to discover that their latest multichapter fic, which has almost no comments and very few kudos, is being hotly discussed in this server as one of the best stories ever. Not one of these people has bothered to say this to them on the fic. When they asked, none of participants could see the point in telling the author of the fic they apparently loved so much that they love it.

This discovery has absolutely destroyed my friend's love of sharing fic. They share because they love seeing other people's enjoyment, and fic writers do that through comments and kudos/reblogs/likes because we don't get paid. There is no literary critic writing a blog post/article about how amazing the story is for us to copy and keep/frame. There is no money from royalties. All we have are the words of the people reading our works.

Those people on that server could have taken five minutes of the time they spent gushing about how amazing my friend's story was to other people and used it to tell the one person guaranteed to want to hear that praise how much they loved it. They could have taken a moment to express their opinion to the person who spent hours upon hours plotting, writing, editing, and posting those chapters. Instead, they deprived my friend of thing that keeps them sharing their writing, and in the process have killed their love of it. My friend now feels used and unmotivated.

I won't be sharing a link to their fic, they said I could share their experience but not their identity. I know they plan to post one final chapter. I know they intend to express their hurt at being excluded from the praise for the thing they created, and I know they intend to announce that as a consequence they will not be posting for a long while, if at all.

So please, I beg you, don't hide your love of a story from the writer. It's just about the only thing we have.

[eddieslunchbox]

desire

summary: you've never been kissed and eddie has been crushing on you since the day you met

18+ [bestfriend!eddie x female!reader]

contains: hurt/comfort, mutual pining, fluff, friends to lovers, kissing, brief mention of alcohol, swearing

word count: 4k

a/n: this is my first time writing for eddie and I'm excited to share him with you! this is very self-indulgent but I hope you like it. please consider reblogging/commenting if you do, my blog is brand new! enjoy ❤

There’s a romantic comedy playing on the television, something you picked up from Family Video for your bi-weekly movie night with Eddie. It was your turn to pick, and after sitting through a terrible slasher film he claimed to love, you wanted to get him back with a movie you didn’t necessarily have interest in, but knew would make him squirm in his seat. 

He grabbed the snacks while you got the movie, and you met up at his trailer after Wayne left for work, the sun setting beyond the horizon and leaving a cold autumn breeze in its place. A routine that had been kept for almost six-months straight.

A bowl of popcorn sat between the two of you, an open bag of sour patch kids resting against your thigh and a half-empty bottle of beer was clasped in Eddie’s hand, resting lazily on his knee where he sat on the opposite side of the sofa. 

You always looked forward to these nights, but today you felt particularly resentful about your choice of film, the two main characters falling in love mere days after meeting. It’s cheesy and cliche, and not all that realistic. You know that. But it makes your chest ache with longing for something you’ve never had. 

And now, unbeknownst to you, you’ve been watching the movie play out with a pout sitting on your face while Eddie has to bite back his smile each time the male protagonist kisses the girl that looks a little like you if he squints hard enough. 

The two of you had been best friends since high school and now you were spending most of your time in college while Eddie worked at an auto shop, which left your get-togethers pushed to the weekends unless one of you showed up at the other's place without warning after a long day. You’d also been crushing on him practically since the day you met, but had kept your feelings to yourself, ignorant to the fact that Eddie also had eyes for you for longer than he was willing to admit to himself. 

You’ve watched him go through a handful of relationships in the time you’ve known him. 

From hearing the disbelief in his voice when he scored a date with Chrissy Cunningham and seeing her hanging off of his arm around school for four months, before you all graduated and she broke it off with a voicemail left on Wayne’s home phone and headed off to university in Indianapolis; to random hookups from his evenings spent at The Hideout that you encountered in awkward meetings when you showed up at his trailer to spend the day with him, finding girls in his clothes sipping coffee that they helped themselves to while Eddie snoozed for another hour. 

Eddie has been your best friend for five years. Six in only a couple of months. And he has been with a total of nine different women. 

Not that you’re counting or anything. 

His relationships never bother you. Not really. But the nagging thought in the back of your mind every time you think about him, was that you haven’t been with anyone. 

You’ve had nothing more than a brief conversation with boys in required discussion groups in college. And other than the frequent hugs you receive from Eddie, the furthest you’ve ever gone with someone was a kiss on the cheek from one of your girlfriends that was slightly too close to the corner of your mouth, and left your body erupting in tingles. 

But Eddie had game. He knew how to make a girl swoon. How to wrap them around his finger and kiss them until they were weak in the knees and red in the face.

You had seen him kiss a handful of times and were ashamed to admit to yourself that you had crawled into your bed with your hand between your thighs more than once, wishing it was you he was kissing and touching and making crumble with one particularly smitten look on his face.

He glances at you when you haven't said a word in over an hour, seeing the frown on your face and the crease between your brows that he desperately wants to smooth over with his thumb. You never had a great poker face, unintentionally putting most of your emotions on display, and he knows you have no idea you’re pouting. 

“Did you run out of candy?” He asks suddenly, making you turn to him, the wrinkle in your forehead deepening in confusion. “You’re grumpy.” 

“I’m not grumpy,” you huff, plucking your aforementioned candy off the sofa and popping one into your mouth. 

Your knees are pulled up to your chest, body leaning away from Eddie with your legs resting against the arm of the sofa. He knows something is up when your eyes don’t return to the movie, lips pursing as you suck on the candy in your mouth and stare at the bag in your hands, pretending to read the ingredients. 

He quietly sets his beer down on the coffee table, moving the barely touched popcorn off of the sofa and clicking pause on the remote, filling the room with silence. You look up at him and he rests his arm on the back of the sofa, the palm of his hand pressing into his cheek. 

“Are you going to keep pouting for the rest of the night, or tell me what’s wrong?” He asks, brow arching in question and you fight the urge to roll your eyes. 

“I’m fine,” you mutter, dropping your candy onto the table and bundling your hands together in your lap. 

“You’re a liar, is what you are,” he accuses. 

You sigh, slumping further down into the sofa with your cheek resting on the cushion as you turn to meet his gaze. 

His brown eyes sparkle in the dim light of the room, his usually untamed hair pulled back with a bun at the base of his skull, stray pieces falling softly to frame the sides of his face. He looks pretty. He always does, but your current state of mind has you looking away as your heart skips a beat, gaze falling to his chest which is covered with a well-worn Dio shirt. 

“I want that,” you admit quietly, voice barely audible to yourself. 

“You want what?” He questions, brows furrowing. 

You flicker your eyes over to the television and he turns his head to look at the screen, the film paused on a scene of a girl lounging beside a pool with a fluffy dog in her lap, sipping on a bright purple cocktail. 

“A dog? A pool- or do you want a drink? I can try and make you something but I don’t know what we have…” He trails off in confusion and you sigh, rubbing your hands over your face. 

“Just forget it,” you mumble into your palms before crossing your arms over your stomach and tilting your eyes up to the ceiling. 

Eddie feels clueless as he tries to work out your unspoken desire in his head, gaze shifting around the room until he spots the fictional couple on the cover of the rented VHS tape. 

A lightbulb flicks on in his head. 

“You want someone?” 

Your eyes dart to him quickly enough that he knows he’s right before you give him a subtle nod of your head, pulling the sleeves of your sweater over your hands as you feel your face grow hot. 

“You will one day,” he assures you but you just shake your head, that being the last thing you want to hear. 

Eddie knows about your relationship history, or rather, lack thereof, but you never talk about it. So he’s surprised with your next statement, his heart leaping into his throat and the energy in the room shifting. 

“No one has ever found me attractive… or at least not enough to do something about it. It’s hopeless.” 

He keeps a straight face but curls his fingers into a fist at his side, silently cursing himself for never telling you how pretty you really are. He thinks you’re the prettiest and most attractive person he’s ever known, but has never said a word out of fear that you’ll stop being his best friend. 

“It’s not hopeless,” he says quietly. “The guys who haven’t made a move on you are pussies.” 

His partially self-degrading comment was meant to make you laugh, but you don’t. Not even giving him a pitying laugh or a half-forced smile. 

“No one has ever even glanced in my direction,” you say and he frowns. 

“That you’ve seen.” 

��Eddie…” you sigh, unsure of why you start to feel emotion welling up in your chest. 

"Sorry."

“I just… I grew up surrounded by friends who had boyfriends, or flings, or were flirted with- kissed stupid outside of bars or on the bench behind school. And no one-” your words get caught in your chest and you swallow down the lump forming in your throat. “No one has ever even looked at me. Do you know how that feels?”

You look up at him but he doesn’t reply, his eyebrows threading together as he watches you bare your heart to him like this for the first time. 

“To have guys look at everyone around you, but never you? To never have anyone like you enough to say something about it? To… to have maybe had three guy friends who never saw you as anything more, that you haven’t even spoken to in years?” 

You know he doesn’t get it. Not at all. But it doesn’t matter. 

“God, Eddie.” You scrub at your eyes when tears gloss over your vision. “I’ve never even kissed someone,” your voice cracks and falls into a whisper. 

He immediately reaches forward to wrap his hands around your ankles and pull you towards him, swiftly maneuvering you to sit with your legs thrown over his lap and your head buried in his neck. 

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly, running his hand over your waist. You sniffle sadly. “Fuck, sweetheart, I’m sorry.” 

He knows that all of the potentially comforting words forming in his brain won’t make you feel better. Because he doesn’t understand what it’s like to be your age and never kissed. 

You don’t want to hear that it’ll happen one day. You don’t know what you want. 

Maybe comfort isn’t something that words would necessarily give you right now. 

“I know that it’ll probably happen one day but… what if it doesn’t?” You whimper, curling into him as your vulnerability takes over. He holds you tighter to him, shaking his head. “I don’t even know what it feels like to be wanted. I can’t even imagine anyone wanting me. No one ever has.” 

His heart feels like it’s going to crumble into pieces in his chest as he lets you talk out your feelings, his hand gripping your thigh tightly. You’re almost completely perched in his lap, but he can’t focus on how you feel against him when your tears are wetting the collar of his shirt. 

“God I feel fucking pathetic,” you mumble, wiping your hand over your eyes and sitting up. “Sorry.” 

“You’re not pathetic,” he says, making you scoff quietly as you dab at your cheeks with your sleeves, staring down at your lap. “You’re human. It’s pretty human to want to feel desired.” 

“Yeah,” you whisper, sniffling back the remainder of your tears and lifting your eyes to find his pretty brown ones staring back at you. 

There’s something different in his gaze now. Something you’ve only seen a few times. Something loving and soft, and so sweet that it makes your breath hitch in your throat. 

Eddie figures that now is as good a time as any to potentially make a complete fool out of himself in an attempt to make you feel better. To make you feel like you’re worthy of being desired. Because god knows he’s been desiring you since the day you accidentally fell into his lap in the cafeteria after being shoved out of the way with a harsh shoulder by some prissy cheerleader on the second day of school.

“You’re beautiful,” he says so quietly that you almost don’t hear him. 

“Eddie…” you mumble, shutting your eyes and moving to climb off of his lap. 

His hand on your thigh tightens and you pause, his eyes tracing delicately over your features. 

“You want someone to look at you,” he says, the corners of his lips quivering in a small smile. “So I’m looking, sweetheart.” 

His eyes flicker down to your lips and you want to say something. To pull away and turn the movie back on, get off of his lap and pretend like you were never there in the first place. But the way he’s looking at you is something you’ve only ever seen him do with his past girlfriends or someone he’s crushing on. Never to you. 

Your cheeks feel warm as he looks at you and you can almost feel his eyes as they trace over your hairline and down the bridge of your nose, past your lips and dropping down to your chest before meeting yours again. Your stomach twists with nerves as his hand leaves your thigh to rest on the side of your neck, his thumb smoothing across the skin of your cheek. 

“Eddie,” your voice is a whisper, heart pounding in your chest. “Stop.” 

He can feel the nerves radiating off of you but he doesn’t move, one of his brows quirking up in question. “What’s wrong?” 

“I-I don’t… I-” you stumble for a reason why you want him to stop looking at you like that. 

You wrack your brain while he sits patiently for an answer, but you quickly understand that you don’t want him to stop. You’re just terrified. 

You don’t have to speak to understand what could happen, with how he’s gazing at you and touching you so softly as if you’ll break under his palms at any second. Holding you in a way he never has before. 

“Please don’t be making one of your stupid jokes right now,” you say, a plea that has his face softening and his thumb brushing across your bottom lip. 

“I’m not joking, baby,” he murmurs, the pet name making your heart stammer in your chest. “You’re gorgeous. And I was too afraid to say anything in case you didn’t feel the same and left because you were uncomfortable around me.” 

You suddenly feel like crying again, a wave of disbelief washing over you as you realize that your best friend and the person you’ve been silently wanting for almost six years wants to give you everything you were just begging for. 

“I could never be uncomfortable around you,” you say and he smiles, hooking his arm around your waist and twisting you so that you’re facing him, your knees pressing into the sofa on either side of his hips. 

“I mean it,” he said and all you can do is nod. 

The position you’ve found yourself in is foreign in more ways than one, but especially with it being Eddie who has put you there. You feel slightly overwhelmed with your shorts riding up on your thighs and your skin cold where the metal of the chain on his belt presses against you. Rough denim scratching softly at your legs and a subtle heat radiating through the fabric that makes you slightly dizzy as you get a whiff of his cologne. 

Your hands are clenched into fists around the fabric of his t-shirt and he can feel your heart racing where his palm is still pressing against the side of your neck. 

“It’s just me, yeah?” He says and you swallow the sudden dryness in your throat. “There’s nothing to be scared of.” 

He knows you need him to make all of the moves right now and he’s okay with it, even despite the way his heartbeat is quickening to catch up with yours. 

“Can I kiss you?” 

His question makes your head spin and your stomach tightens. “I… I’ve never-” 

“I know.” The gentle reassurance that falls from his lips soothes you and you give him another quick nod. 

There’s still a hint of a smile on his face when he leans forward to brush his lips against yours.

He doesn’t kiss you right away, the tip of his nose nudging yours as he pulls back just enough to gauge your reaction. Your eyes are closed and your lips part slightly with a shaky sigh, hands unknowingly pulling the neckline of his shirt down to grasp for any semblance of reality as you sit in his lap. 

He slides his hand to the back of your neck, guiding you forward an inch to meet his mouth, lips slotting against yours. His lips are soft and slightly chapped, and when a strand of his hair brushes against your cheek, you don’t bother to pull away even when it tickles your skin. 

The hand on your neck is a grounding touch and you think you’ve never felt so safe and comfortable in Eddie’s arms before.

He can feel the way you relax into his kiss, your body slumping just enough to rest your chest against his and fingers untangling from his shirt to drop into his lap. You’re not breathing so he pulls away after just a few seconds, lips parting from yours with a quiet click and you immediately take a deep breath through your nose, your eyes fluttering open. 

You think if your brain was working properly, you’d be worried that this was all a ploy for him to get your first kiss out of the way so you’d stop crying, but the only thing floating through your mind is how nice it felt to have his lips on yours. 

His face is close to yours, lashes brushing his cheekbones as he sits with his eyes closed, the hand on your waist sliding down to rest on the top of your thigh. The tip of his tongue pokes out as he wets his lips before exhaling a long breath through his nose, a tiny smirk tugging at his mouth. 

“Shit,” he breathes, squeezing your thigh before tipping his head back to rest on the sofa cushion. “I really can’t believe it took me this long to kiss you.” 

“You mean that?” You fight the urge to bring your hand up to feel your lips, wondering how long you might have to wait to feel his again. 

He peels his eyes open and looks down at you. “You have no idea.”

You feel a smile begin to form on your face and you duck your chin to hide against his chest, fingers still trembling from clutching his shirt so tightly as you lift your arms to slink around his neck. He chuckles and curls his arms around you, tilting his head down and burying his nose in your hair. 

“Don’t get all shy on me now, sweetheart,” he says, a shiver running down his spine as you slide your fingers into his hair, loosening the elastic holding it back. 

He doesn’t care about his hair as your nose presses into his neck and your breath warms the skin beneath his shirt. “Did I do alright for your first time?” 

Your face goes flush at his choice of words and he fights back a moan when you press a quick kiss to his neck before lifting your head, unable to hold back the coy grin that sits on your lips. 

You nod and he smiles, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on your lower back. 

“Yeah? Think it’d be okay if I did it again?” 

“Please,” you say and he wastes no time in kissing you again. 

Your hands blindly tug the elastic band out of his hair, sliding it onto your wrist and tangling your fingers into the mess of curls at his neck. His lips drag over yours in lingering kisses that make your stomach twist with heat, tasting a hint of the candy he was munching on earlier in the evening. 

You’re consumed by the new sensation of his lips moving against yours and the frizzy curls hooked around your fingers, the thick of your thighs resting on his own with a silent invitation to scooch your hips a little closer to his if you wanted to. 

Eddie is kissing you. Keeping his advances small but addicting, pushing back a smile each time he feels you chase his lips when he pulls back. You can’t get enough. 

So you don’t really notice when he relaxes back against the sofa, resting his hands on your soft thighs with his fingers dipping just below the edge of your shorts. You let out a quiet noise against his lips as your chest comes to rest on his, your arm getting trapped beneath his shoulder and the cushion. His nails press softly into your skin at how pleased you sound, his arms erupting in goosebumps when you unintentionally tug at his hair. 

You’ve been letting out quiet gasps between every kiss he plants on your mouth, your lungs stinging in your chest, yet reluctant to pull away. It’s only when you feel the tip of his tongue nudge against your bottom lip that you pull back, resting your forehead on his and panting to catch your breath. 

“Too much?” He mumbles, sliding his hands over your skin. 

“Not at all,” you breathe, swallowing hard and letting out a soft laugh. “I just couldn’t breathe.” 

Eddie smiles, tilting his chin forward to press his lips to the corner of your mouth. You lift your head and your eyes instantly fall to his lips, now slightly swollen and a darker shade of pink. 

It’s hard for you to think straight, to wrap your head around the fact that you just had your first kiss, and second, and third, and fourth… all with Eddie who is looking at you now like you hung the moon just for him. 

As much as your insecurity is wanting to take you away from this moment, you know that he isn’t that good of a liar, and if he really didn’t want you like this in at least some capacity, you’d be able to see it in his eyes. But all you can see is the sweet, loving gaze of your best friend as he lets you settle, no matter that all he can think about now is kissing you stupid for the rest of the night. 

You’ve gotten further than you ever thought you’d get and you mindlessly pull the tangles in his hair apart, wetting your lips and taking a deep breath. “I like you, Eds. A lot.” 

You figured he might make a teasing comment at your admission, but he just smirks and lets his eyes fall closed as you play with his hair. “I like you too, sweetheart. Have for way too long.” 

You sink your teeth into your bottom lip and slide your hands from his hair to drag down his chest, his stomach twitching beneath your innocent touch. 

“Do you want to keep watching your movie?” He asks, glancing at you and you shake your head. “You sure?” 

You think this is the happiest you’ve ever been, and Eddie feels the same- just happy that he could be the one to make you feel truly wanted for the first time. He wishes you would’ve confided in him about your lack of romance earlier in your friendship so you wouldn’t have missed out on so many years silently pining for one another. But he thinks this will do just fine.

“I want to keep doing this,” you quietly admit and he lets out a soft groan as he brings his hands up to his face. 

“You’re gonna be the death of me…” He drops his hands to his sides. “Wanna get comfy in my room then?”

He chuckles at your eager nod, patting your thighs and moving to sit up. “Hop up then, baby. We can clean up later.” 

You get up and he follows suit, grabbing your hand and interlacing your fingers to drag you down the hallway with an urgency that makes you laugh the entire way into his bedroom.

[perueresnezhevna]

op do you work for hoyoverse or something 😭 i literally found these while i was looking for a picture of all the flamechasers to show my friends them next to the amphoreus cast

flame chasers in ancient greek/roman outfits (ft. klein)

[webbluvrsugar]

is this too freaky? ykw if you could just roll w it as a prompt i will give you my first born child.

ethan’s the type of guy to be an absolutely stuttering mess when he’s with you in public and then when he’s fucking you he puts his hand on your abdomen and says “feel me all up in your guts”

— 🦚

a/n: deffo not too freaky, this hit just the spot!! I think this is the most accurate headcanon about Ethan <33

proofread

﹒ ☆ 𓂂 ˚ ☆. ꙳ * ࣭ ࣭ Ethan hides his true nature from everybody else..

His friends don’t get it. They don’t get how you ended up dating a dork like Ethan, specially not one that can’t hold a simple conversation with you, but this ‘thing’ you have with him has lasted a couple months and they’re starting to actually believe you’re not fooling around with the boy, it’s weird to believe so, Ethan is just so… bland, and not to shame him or anything but they can’t help but wonder how you two work it out in the bedroom, it’s weird as hell, they wonder if you’ve even got to that base yet.

Ethan doesn’t like his private life to be out there for everyone to hear so when they do ask.. he just ignores their question with an angry mutter.

You’ve also thought this would never go anywhere, specially with not how Ethan acted around you in public — sure, he was cute, blushed every time you asked him anything, even if just a pen, and if you were thinking before, you’d never believe you’d get with a guy that acts that away. That is until… you’ve finally took the first step.

You were already kissing him when it happened, your hand wildly moving down to his pants, slipping underneath his shorts when he doesn’t complain, palming him through his boxers. His moves got wilder too, his hand went up to your throat and he used that to push you down on your bed, after that, Ethan showed a side of him you’ve never seen before.

You predicted he was a virgin or something, that you would have to guide him somehow — that plan went down the drain when he didn’t hesitate to pull down your panties and fuck you exactly how you wanted him to.

“Shit, Ethan, I —“ you moan, interrupting yourself as he leans down, the sudden movement makes him switch angles, reaching that spot in you that makes you lose all senses.

“You like it like this, huh?” He smirks, one of his hands caresses your face while the other one goes down from your chest to your stomach. “Yeah, I knew it, don’t worry baby, I’ll give it to you the way you wan’it.”

He pecks your lips, slows down his pace torturously, you can almost feel every inch coming in and out as he does so.

“Can you feel it?” He presses his hand down, right on your stomach, earns an exasperated mewl from you. “‘M all up in your guts.”

You’d never expect this from him, specially not the way he talks, the way he’s just so.. bold.

“Fuuck, you’re so tight,” he comments, releases the pressure on your stomach and moves his thumb down to your clit. “Almost made me cum inside you.”

He’s so casual with it, like the chance of him doing so doesn’t just fuck with your head even more.

“But I bet you’d like that, huh?”

[monstersflashlight]

Patreon Commission for Elise

Request: Basically the reader is the CEO of some big/famous business and has a crush on her secretary but docent think that he likes her. So one day the Readers Sister come to the office for a visit and they are talking in the readers office and her secretary needs to drop off some important papers and over hears their conversation. So then he knocks on the door and acts like he didn’t hear the conversation. Reader’s sister says high and the reader notices how they interact together. So when the Readers secretary leaves the Reader is like “hey I think that you guys would look good together. He totally likes you.” Kinda stuff. And the sister is confused but docent really think much about it. So the Readers sister is staying in town for their friends wedding or something so the sister is always at the office. One day the Secretary decides to ask the Readers sister for help to get with the Reader. And that’s all I got.

A/N: This was so much fun to write, they are so in love with each other, totally would write more of them. This is kind of soft in a hot way, enjoy!

The CEO's minotaur

Minotaur x chubby fem!reader || semi-public sex, heavy making out, office sex

Your sister is in town after a very long time, and you had missed her so much, but right now, with her nagging at you about not acting on your feelings for your hot minotaur secretary… you aren’t so sure about missing her. (That’s a lie, you totally missed her, but dang if it doesn’t annoy you to be told you are stupid).

“Come on, you need to tell him, see if he feels the same way,” she’s saying. She’s told you that at least three times before in the past couple of days, but you still refuse to believe her. What has a hot minotaur to do with his human boss? Nothing.

“Stop it, you know he doesn’t like me that way,” you try to argue for what feels like the thousandth time. “He’s too goo-” You hear a knock on the door and shut up instantly, motioning your sister to be quiet, too. “Come in.” Said minotaur enters the room making you sigh in pent up frustration. His big form looks extra good today, and it does nothing to make you feel any less intense about him.

“I need you to sing these papers, ma'am,” his tone is so formal, and he keeps sending side looks to your sister as she tries to repress her laughter.

“Yes, sure, come here.” You sign the papers he puts on your desk as you tell him: “I’ve told you repeatedly not to call me ma’am, just use my name.”

“Okay…” He says, but you know he’s going to do it again. It almost feels like he likes to call you that, like it gives him some sort of satisfaction to act so proper around you. But that can’t be, right? There’s no way.

You exchange a few more words as he tells you about the calls and schedule for the rest of the day. You give him a list of a few things you need him to do as he smiles, a soft blush covering his cheeks and making you press your tights together. Fuck, you need to get it together.

When he leaves you look at your sister, who is covering her mouth with her hand trying to repress the giggles you bet she’s holding. “Don’t,” you warn her, already anticipating what she’s going to say.

She shuts her mouth but smiles brightly at you, changing topics. A while later, when your lunch break is over and your sister is leaving, she says: “For the record, he totally likes you.” She closes the door just in time to avoid the paper-clip you throw her way, her laughter heard even across the closed door.

Your sister stays in town a few more days, dropping by your office to have lunch with you every single day, saying it’s not always that she can spend time with her CEO sister in her important job. You laugh it out, but you are secretly glad she spends time with you every time she comes to the city. You miss her like crazy when she’s not there, and calls just aren’t the same.

That’s how you are about to round the corner when you hear her voice, talking to someone who shows up in your dreams way too often. “Then how do I approach her?” Your secretary says with a soft tone that makes goosebumps erupt on your skin.

“Just tell her you like her!” Your sister whisper-shouts. She was never good at being subtle.

“But- But… She doesn’t like me back. She’s my boss, and so good. She’s so pretty and powerful, and her aura is so sexy at the same time as kind… And I’m just a minotaur.” You hate the self-depreciation words coming out of his mouth. You want to scream at him that he’s wrong. That you are head over heels for him. Then he says: “She’s just so much better than me,” and you had enough.

You turn the corner and stare at his stunned face. “You are wrong,” you tell him.

Your sister is smiling so big you want to be annoyed with her, but you just can’t. Thanks to her you were able to hear him say those things about you. Fuck, she’s going to hold that over you forever, isn’t she? But at that moment you don’t even care. You just care about his sweet face all blushed in the prettiest shade of brown as he looks at you with big eyes and the hint of a smile.

“I’m going to take that as my cue to leave, have fun you two. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” She tells as she almost runs to the elevator.

You two stare at each other for what feels like an eternity. You scan his form, his proper clothes and soft fur, the way his horns are so big they almost reach the ceiling, the sweet smile that’s spreading across his features as he registers your flushed face. You don’t know who moves first, but before you can process it, you two are in each other personal space, and he’s looking at you intently.

“Can I kiss you?” You don’t even respond, grabbing his horns and pulling him down to devour his mouth in the most hot kiss you’ve ever given (or received).

You make out like teenagers, his hands all over your body as yours explore his. It’s intoxicating to finally be able to kiss him like that, to be able to touch him the way you’ve been waiting for so fucking long. He’s driving you insane in the best way possible and, judging by his moans, he’s no better.

“I need you, I need you, I need you,” you chant against his lips, pushing him softly to your office.

He hauls you up and your legs come around his waist. He walks you to your desk and sits you over it, doing the whole wiping-everything-off-the-table thing, the most cliche move of all times. You giggle as he kisses down your neck, his horns right in front of your face as you grab them to control his movements a bit more. You pull him up and devour his mouth again.

“I’ve wanted you for so long, I’m so fucking gone for you,” he whispers against your lips, his hands cupping your boobs over the fabric of your clothes as you moan. You can’t even tell him you feel the same way, your brain is foggy with desire as you palm the huge erection inside his pants.

“Take me, then. Make me yours,” you ask softly.

“Yes, ma’am,” he tells you with a smirk. You kiss him again, your hands working on his clothes to open them. You think some of the buttons of his shirt fly away, but you can’t care less.

He moves you enough to get your pants off your legs, ripping your underwear as you gasp. His strength turning you on so much you want to scream his name, but instead, you bite his neck to avoid making too much noise. You can’t forget you aren’t alone in the office, the other’s cubicles might be a few hallways away, but if you let out all the noise you want, they will definitely hear, and that wouldn’t be too professional of the CEO of the company.

He apparently can read your mind, because he whispers against your ear: “One of these days I’m going to hear your sweet lips screaming my name as I pound into you,” you groan at his words.

His fingers find your needy hole, pushing one inside without preamble as he starts finger-fucking you into a mess of arousal and pent up frustration. His thumb is on your clit when the second finger enters you, making you move your hips to ride his hand. He hums in contentment, urging you to move faster, to get all your pleasure off him.

“I need you, can I… Can I fuck you?” You take a second to process his words, your brain lost in pleasure to what his hand is doing.

“Yes. Yes. Yes,” you agree vehemently as he chuckles, taking his fingers away from your dripping cunt and spreading your juices over his dick. When you look down to see, you have to swallow a gasp at the sheer size of him. “You are so big,” you let out without wanting to, covering your mouth in embarrassment.

He chuckles again, caressing your cheek and kissing the tip of your nose. “Don’t worry, ma’am, it will fit.” You don’t doubt his words, seeing as you are fucking drenched with desire.

When you feel the tip of his cock against your pussy, you throw your head back, moaning like a whore as the tapered head breaches you. He breathes hard against your neck, his panting making everything hotter. He keeps pushing and pushing and pushing until he’s so deep inside you can almost taste it in the back of your throat.

Your fucking is frantic and desperate. You kiss each other with such desperation that you end up panting against each other mouth’s. It’s so hot and needy, is the climax of so much pent up sexual tension between you two that your orgasm catches you off guard.

“I’m about to…” You don’t finish the phrase before your body is convulsing and your pussy is fluttering around his girth as he curses loudly.

You bury your face in his neck to muffle your sounds as you come apart in his arms, the pleasure so high it’s almost blinding. He follows you over the edge not three thrusts after, and the feel of his come painting your insides is enough to send you over a second orgasm. You bite down on his neck muscles hard, making him groan and shot another load into your tingling pussy.

“Fuck,” you breathe out when your heart slows down a bit.

“Give me a few minutes,” he jokes, making you giggle.

[emmyrosee]

His foot taps anxiously against the floor of the flower shop, eyes glazing over the beautiful bouquets and vibrant colors that splash under the fluorescent lights that crackle above his head. The smell of so many flowers is getting into his head, powdery and sweet, but the nausea brewing inside of him is not budging.

He messed up. He knows that.

He also knows he relies on the bet that you’ll accept flowers every time he messes up, which while seldom, happens more than he still would like.

You deserve the utmost love and respect. And he can’t stand that sometimes, he feels like he can’t give it to you and has to hope flowers will be enough for your trust again, like a bandaid on a scraped knee.

After this, he’ll run to the bakery for a pastry, wrapped in a little box, waiting for you to enjoy it-

What is he thinking, countless gifts won’t make up for it, for all he’s done. You’ll never forgive him, each bouquet and each slice of cake when he messes up surely is only driving you away, and he cards a hand through his blonde hair as he has a small, teeny freak out in front of the display.

He looks to the old man next to him who easily picks out a bouquet of assorted flowers with a predominantly purple color story. The old man sniffs them, and smiles, before sighing happily. He turns to Atsumu with small nod, “think she’ll like ‘em?”

Atsumu tenses up before offering the old man a small chuckle, “sure is one of the prettiest bouquets in here,” he encourages, and the man hums as he looks around the boquete for any imperfections in the petals. “She’ll be lucky to have them from ya, yessir.”

The man smiles, “no, son; I’m lucky to have her.” He sighs dreamily, “there isn’t enough bouquets in the world to show her how much she means to me.”

Atsumu freezes. For some reason, unbeknownst to him, a lump forms into his throat at the man’s words. He tries to swallow it thickly, keep his emotions at bay before he wails to this strange man about all the ways he’s hurt you over the years and how always, he’s never been able to fully forgive himself despite you assuring that you do.

This argument would be no different.

Atsumu nods his head in understanding, “I think you might be in the same boat as me,” he says, wondering if this man too, is making up for a mistake he made. If this man is trying to repent, and the first way to do it is to bring her flowers, a symbol of a love he’s determined to keep blooming, keep alive, keep beautiful.

But maybe, just maybe, he’s not relying on the fact that flowers are an apology, perhaps they’re being purchased just because, just to make you smile.

Perhaps Atsumu should start doing that for you. Just something nice.

Something to look forward to.

The man chuckles once more; it’s raspy, like perchance he’s one to indulge in a cigarette when the craving arises, but it’s comforting, and for the first time in hours, Atsumu feels a little more at ease.

“At least we’re in the boat, my friend,” the man says. Atsumu swallows thickly once more, but he flashes the man a comforted smile.

“You’re right. We sure are, sir.”

The man bows at the blonde, “you take care of yourself,” he says simply, before coolly turning to make his way to the registers. Atsumu looks back at the boquetes and grabs one that reminds him of you; bright and pristine, like bubbles on a warm day, a warm blanket at night. Like the movie you can repeat by heart by now, but he’ll still watch with you like it’s the first time.

He smiles, sniffles and blinks the sting in his waterline, thrilled to be in the boat with you.

[vanoodle]

Imagine you are a child and draw something with your crayons. Drawing it makes you really happy and at the end you get up and proudly show your drawing to your parents but you get no reaction.

Now imagine you're working on a project. You've made progress on it and you're so proud of it that you post it in the group chat you have with your friends. Again you get no reaction.

Then later you find out that one of your friends showed your project to another group chat you aren't in and said "Look at this, isn't it cool?" But for some reason, they didn't tell you they thought that. Wouldn't that hurt?

That, essentially, is what posting fanfic is. Or literally any kind of fanfwork that you post for the fandom to find.

Of course not all of these people who can see your fanwork are your friends, they're strangers a lot of the time but you're in the same fandom, the same community, so if feels similar. And so, when you post something to this "large friend group" called fandom, and you get no reaction, it feels like your friends (as in: fans of the same thing) not acknowledging the thing you made and wanted to share with them.

As for the writing vs posting part, I feel like many people mean "posting" when they say "writing" or a mix of the two. I have written quite a lot of fic that I have never posted. It sits on my hard drive and only I will ever get to see it. To other people however it will seem like I haven't written anything at all because they have no way of knowing that I made something.

Another part is whether or not I actually continue my fanfics. Many fanfics I have written for myself stop somewhere in the middle because I lose the drive to finish the story. If I were to post it and someone gives me a comment, this might give me the motivation to actually keep going with it.

Writing only for myself also makes me sloppy. I will no longer care about spelling or grammar or writing in a cohesive way. I'm only getting the thoughts out of my head and I can understand my own writing just fine, so why would I edit it? Why would I polish it?

The "write for yourself" argument has been made so so many times and while I understand that being guilt tripped into commenting doesn't feel nice and shouldn't be done, I also don't think that telling others to just "write for yourself" every time they express their desire for attention is that great of a move, either, and it bothers me each time I see it.

I DO write for myself, I LIKE writing for myself but I don't write for myself the way I will when I plan on posting something on AO3 to share it with others.

There's a genre of post that I see pretty frequently, which can overall be summed up as, "Modern fandom has a culture problem where fanfic authors are treated as content producers instead of community members and their fanfic is treated as a commodity to be consumed instead of a high-effort labor of love that deserves attention and compliments given directly to the author". I agree with 3/4ths of that. I find the part I disagree with very interesting, the same way I find a lot of writeblr interesting, because it's a perspective that I had to work very hard to actually understand.

Because the posts have such a warped view of what writing is and why we post our writing! They say that fanfic fights against the commodified internet we live in, but all they're doing is changing the currency of payment in this attention economy. Another way you can summarize about 70% of these posts is, "My payment for writing and posting my fanfiction is compliments, and if you do not give me those compliments you are not paying. If you give those compliments behind my back, or talk about them privately without giving them to me as well, then you are stealing from me." I don't want to put it like that, but a lot of these posts use words like 'deprive', as if the reader who enjoys the fic without commenting is withholding something from them that they deserve. They use the word engagement, and they do talk about how part of that engagement is just the joy of talking about AUs and ships with other people, but when people say that comments are their motivation to keep writing, what they mean is that validation is their motivation to keep writing. Which is compliments.

I understand that, because I understand that fanfic writers are not immune to the attention economy. But I don't understand how almost every one of these posts talk about how this lack of attention makes them stop writing - that this act of theft is killing their desire to write. I could understand this if they meant 'desire to POST fic' (I don't post fic I think zero people would read.), but they talk about how lack of payment stops them from writing at all.

IMHO, that is what creates a commodity from fic. People want to treat fic as art, but an artist makes art for themself. Art is made because we want to hold parts of skills and ourselves in our hands. If you won't make art if you get no payment, then you have devalued the art completely.

We think of AO3 as this unique site that's born entirely from passion and is filled with fics written for love of the game. But guilt-tripping posts that shame people for not commenting on a fic they enjoy, and that describe how there's no point in writing fic if it's not getting attention, are directly contributing towards the culture of treating fic like a commodity.

I also really want a fandom culture where the relationship between artist and reader is reciprocal, where it feels like a community, and where I get to talk about my fanfic with people. My favorite part of posting fanfic is rambling about it on my blog, because I can talk about my art all day and I love it when people stop and listen. But I love that because I love my own art. If you love your own art, then it'll always have value.

Also Google your username, just trust me, that's how you find The Secret Discussions. Someone made a TikTok fansong of me once. WHAT?

[rhiannonsknife]

okay so we’ve all heard about mean jackie, the one who js uses r and wtv but what about a jackie who’s kinda obsessed with r but isn’t afraid to show it? maybe shes like all over r at school and especially at parties or after soccer practice/matches.

btw i js wanted to say i absolutely ADORE ur writing and its genuinely refreshing!!

── .✦ DATING JACKIE TAYLOR

— summary: dating jackie taylor hcs.

— warnings: fluff, fluff, fluff. established relationship. gn!reader. one brief mention of jackie’s death (my bad…). did not beta read.

— a/n: i hope this is enough fluff to make up for the insane amount of jackie angst on this blog…

jackie who loves physical touch and who’s lowkey so clingy with you.

she isn’t shy about physical affection. at all. whether it’s holding your hand in the hallways (partly to show you off, partly because she just wants to feel your presence) resting her head on your shoulder during lunch, or draping herself across you at parties, she always needs to be in contact somehow. jackie doesn’t care who’s watching. in fact, she wants people to watch, dwelling in the attention it brings: the little whispers and lingering glances from classmates as she casually tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear or leans in close to whisper something only you can hear. it’s not just about the spectacle; it’s jackie’s way of marking her territory, showing everyone that you’re hers.

jackie who loves when you stay after school to watch her practice or show up to her games.

after every match or practice, she’s practically glued to you. she’ll jog over, still sweaty and out of breath, and throw an arm around you. and if you’re wearing her jacket or an old jersey while cheering her on? fuck it: she’ll kiss you right there, in front of everyone. she’s a sucker for the post-match attention, especially after the yellowjackets have won (even more so when jackie is the one to score the winning goal): when it’s just the two of you and you invite her out for dinner to celebrate the victory <3 you usually stay longer to watch her practice, too. jackie insists on sharing her post-practice snacks with you afterwards, as a treat for waiting on the bleachers. even if you have your own food, she’ll claim: “mine taste better though,” only to pop a piece of granola into your mouth with a smug grin.

jackie who tries to act nonchalant about you…

…but fails miserably. she isn’t exactly mean, (okay maybe a bit) but if someone tries to get too close to you, her possessiveness does come out, no matter what. she’ll slip her arm around your waist, pull you closer, and flash her sweetest (but most fake) smile. “oh, hi! didn’t realize we were having a little gathering here” she’ll manage, squeezing you just a little tighter. at this point, everyone at school knows jackie is into you. she’ll stop mid-conversation to greet you, abandon her friends to sit with you, or even bail on a party if you’re not going. it’s clear to anyone paying attention that you’re her favorite person.

speaking of which: jackie always seems to know where you are in public places.

you honestly have no idea how she does it, but jackie finds you either way. she’s a literal human magnet, always attracting you or the other way around. whether it’s in the halls, at parties or soccer games, jackie will find you in the largest crowds. she doesn’t mean to be overbearing, it’s just that being near you feels right to her. you’ll instantly know it’s her, when a pair of arms wraps around you from behind and someone’s peppering your neck in kisses. “there you are” she’ll whisper gently.

jackie, who loves to make you blush!! <3

she’ll casually brush her fingers along your arm while whispering something flirty in your ear, or she’ll lean in just a little too close when you’re talking. (not that she could ever be too close to you) she lives for your reactions and they way she can watch your cheeks flush red. even when she can’t be there to see your reaction, only the idea of knowing you’ll be flustered all over again is enough for her to leave little notes in your locker that you’ll find by the time she’s already in a different class.

jackie, who keeps reminders of you everywhere!!

she keeps photos of the two of you in her planner or pressed into her notebooks, and sometimes you catch her smiling at them when she thinks no one’s looking. she might even replace her beloved heart charm necklace with a locket you’ve given her, keeping a picture of the two of you with her wherever she goes (okay okay this is too angsty to unpack but: jackie who takes this locket with her on the flight to the nationals…jackie, whose only reminder of you in the wilderness is the little, square shaped photograph of you…jackie who dies with her fist clutched around it. ANYWAY.) but ALSO: jackie whose locker is basically yours too. half of it is filled with your stuff: your jacket, a book you mentioned liking, even snacks you said you enjoyed. she’ll tell anyone who asks that it’s because “they always forget their things, so i’m just being helpful”

jackie, who gives you the cheesiest nicknames known to mankind.

and she’s only half joking too. she mostly does it to get a rise out of you and hear your laughter when she curls up against you and buries her face in the crook of your neck as she comes up with something hilarious like “babycakes”. your groan will only spur her on and draw a giggle from her lips as she pokes your sides playfully.

jackie, who will spoil you rotten.

you mention something briefly that you’d like to have? jackie will buy it for you. you’re out for lunch? she’s paying. you mention that you don’t have any nice clothes to wear? she’s taking you on a shopping spree with her dad’s credit card. especially for special occasions like christmas or your birthday, jackie is all over the place, ensuring to get you at least one big present that’s better than whatever your other friends and family have gotten you. she also insists on taking you to the nicest restaurants in town. jackie orders for you with 0 hesitation, knowing all your favorites, and never lets you pay. she’s doing it with the best intentions, though: it’s never about showing off or flaunting her/her parents’ wealth, it’s all about showing you how much she cares!!

jackie, who calls you in the middle of the night.

on the rare occasions when you’re not sleeping at the other’s house, she sometimes calls just to hear/fall asleep to the sound of your voice. you don’t even have to talk about anything important (though you will, most of the time). for jackie, it’s enough to recap her day, ask about yours, or just hear your voice. if you sound tired, she’ll tease you for staying up for her, though deep down, she appreciates it more than you know.

jackie who asks you to go to your prom before graduation together.

showing you off in the halls is definitely not enough: she is determined to take you to prom too, especially because it’s your last one before graduating. jackie would go all out for her promposal, i just KNOW IT: gathering your favorite flowers and leaving a heartfelt note in your locker. when you find her waiting nearby, she’s grinning ear to ear. she’d be so serious about it too, no matter how you feel about the formalities etc.! she insists on taking you dress (or suit!) shopping and makes sure you get the outfit you feel perfect in, even if it means trying on a dozen options. she beams at you every time!! <3 guys i’m having a moment here but also: jackie who gets you matching accessories for prom night!! jackie who instantly drags you onto the dance floor the second a slow song plays!! jackie who’s holding you close the whole time, whispering how much she’s going to miss moments like this after graduation!!

rhiannon stealing your clothes this, rhiannon stealing your clothes that. guys. jackie stealing your clothes!!

she insists on “borrowing” your hoodie or jacket all the time. but here’s the thing: she wears it in public constantly, not just around the house. she loves showing off that she’s got a piece of you with her wherever she goes. when you finally ask for it back, she grins and says, “you can have it… after you give me something else to steal” sometimes she’ll show up in clothes you don’t even remember giving her, grinning knowingly.

jackie, whose plans always include you.

whenever she starts making plans for the future, it is as if you’re an inseparable unit. it’s like she can’t even picture a life where you’re not right by her side. she’s got it all planned out, and it’s not like you’re complaining. the two of you were supposed to go to the same college anyway, but it still warms your heart to hear that she’s imagining a future with you and that you’re not limited to your highschool years.

jackie who’s so so proud of you no matter what.

she gets ridiculously proud of even the smallest things you do. did you answer a question in class or get a good grade? she’ll lean over and whisper, “you’re a genius.” scored a point during fucking gym class? she’s clapping loudly from the sidelines. “that’s my partner!” she’ll say to anyone within earshot. she’s your own personal cheerleader!! regardless of all of these things, she sometimes overthinks the whole situation. given the fact that she never cared for someone the way she does for you and that this is her first time in a truly loving relationship, she’s probably worried about doing things the ‘right way’. she’ll hesitate before asking if you’re happy with her, or quietly admit she worries about losing you. you’re obviously there to reassure her time and time again!!

jackie, who’s a hopeless romantic in denial!!!!

when jackie loves, she loves hard. before you, she hasn’t even known this side of herself, so she’s surprised to find out how much of a romantic she turns out to be. everyone notices how much softer and happier she is when she’s with you. the usual sharpness in her voice fades, and she’s all smiles and easy laughter. jackie is unapologetically obsessed, down bad, if you will!! she’ll always come up with something sweet to do with you, whether it’s dragging you outside to watch the stars at a party, hand-feed you popcorn during movie nights, or even burn a cd of your songs to blast in the car.



[tortillamastersblog]

Back To You - Part 3 | Sam Carpenter

Pairing: Sam Carpenter x reader

Warnings: mentions of violence, death, blood, injuries, and swearing

Summary: When Sam left after turning eighteen, you were devastated. You’d been in love with her since you were kids and her leaving meant you never got to tell her how you truly felt.

Fast forward a couple of years, Tara gets attacked and Sam returns. . .

Previous Part | Next Part | Masterlist

_______________________________________________

“I’ve got a body outside a bar on Main, and then you get attacked here.” Sheriff Hicks almost sounds accusing as she looks at Sam while speaking. “You said the call came from Amber’s number?”

Sam nods faintly, a distant look in her eyes. She’s been like this ever since she and Richie came back into Tara’s room, and even though I know I shouldn’t be, I’m worried.

Not only did she almost get killed, she’s also got something on her mind that’s upsetting her. I know because she’s got that telltale crinkle of hers in her eyebrows.

“So?” Amber pipes up next to me. She came in a couple of minutes ago with Sheriff Hicks. “We know he called on my phone before when he attacked Tara.”

True, but it’s still a little weird. Why wouldn’t he just use a burner phone to make the calls?

I glance at Tara to see what she thinks about all this, but she’s just looking back and forth between Amber and Hicks, fear and uncertainty written all over her face. First she was attacked and now Sam.

Who’s going to be next?

“Or, and I’m just spit-balling here. . . You’re the killer,” Richie says and even though I neither like, nor trust him, I have to admit, he’s got a point.

Offended, Amber crosses her arms and stares at him incredulously. She looks like she’s about to say something to defend herself, but then Sheriff Hicks beats her to it.

She turns to him and narrows her eyes. “And where were you wenn all of this happened?”

Richie falters slightly and I can see him tighten his grip around Sam’s hand which he’s been holding ever since they came in. “I was. . . watching Netflix.”

I roll my eyes and sigh. Of course he was, how convenient. . .

Seemingly reading my mind, Amber scoffs and says, “Ooh, yeah. Super solid alibi, bro.”

“So, where were you?” He fires back. Then, he looks at me with raised eyebrows. “And what about you? Hmm? You just so happened to walk around the corner right after Sam was attacked?”

I stiffen and it takes everything in me not to walk around Tara’s bed and slap him. How dare he? I would never try to hurt Sam, or Tara for that matter. I can barely even kill bugs because I feel sorry for them, so how could I possibly hurt another human being like that?

“Excuse me?” My voice is low and dangerous and the only thing that stops me from snapping is Tara who grabs a hold of my sleeve. “How would I even do that? I’m injured, and I literally just got back to the hospital.”

Richie snorts. “So you say, but you wouldn’t be the first psychotic killer to fake getting hurt to divert suspicion from yourself.”

Fury pulses through my veins, but I don’t move or speak. Tara’s grip on my sleeve tightens and much to my relief, Sheriff Hicks comes to my defense while Sam continues to stare vacantly at a spot on the opposite wall.

“It wasn’t Y/N, or Amber,” she states. “Surveillance footage shows Y/N entering the hospital during the time of the attack, and it was’t Amber because I was questioning her and her friends at the sheriff’s station.”

I give her a thankful nod and place my hand over Tara’s, silently telling her that I’m not going to lash out.

“Yeah,” Amber says, leveling Richie with a glare. “I came as soon as I heard, but, you know, the Netflix alibi is good, too.”

I must admit, Amber and I never really clicked for whatever reason, but right now, she’s my favorite person.

Sheriff Hicks lets out an exasperated sigh and hands Amber her phone back. “Okay, both of you, stop it.”

“You’re going to put more cops on her room, right?”Sam’s voice takes me by surprise.

Tara glances at her sister and then back Hicks while Amber and Richie continue glaring at each other.

“Yes.” The sheriff’s face softens. “And I can move you to a private floor. Deputy Vinson knows what he’s doing, you’ll be safe.”

That last part seems to have been the wrong thing to say because Sam bristles. “Like we’ve been so far?”

Oh dear. . .

The air in the room shifts and I bite the inside of my cheek, waiting for Sheriff Hicks’s reaction.

I know Sam can be short tempered and people usually dismiss it, but I fear this time she might have crossed a line. Sheriff Hicks is only trying to help, and Sam questioning said help isn’t doing anyone any good.

“Samantha, let’s step outside.” The tight lipped smile on the sheriff’s face makes me cringe and be thankful I’m not on the receiving end of it.

Sam clenches her jaw and looks at all of us for a moment before getting up and leaving the room with Sheriff Hicks.

Not even a minute later she returns, alone, and stands by the open door with a defeated look on her face. “Well, she remains a delight. . .”

I can’t help the way my lips twitch in slight amusement, and when Sam’s eyes meet mine, a bitter sweet smile briefly tugs at her lips.

“Are you okay?” Tara asks, putting an end to our little . . . moment?

Sam’s eyes dart to Richie, Amber, and then back to me. “Uh, actually. Would you mind giving us a second? I need to talk to Tara.”

“Of course,” I say quietly, squeezing Tara’s hand reassuringly. “I’ll be outside if you need anything.”

She smiles softly and let’s go of my sleeve, watching Amber, Richie and me file out of the room before Sam closes the door behind us.

“So, you’re a fan of the Hawks?” Deputy Vinson asks when I run into him outside the bathroom.

“What? Oh.” I look down when he points at my hockey sweater. “Yes, kind of. I’m on the team.”

“Really?” He smiles.

“Yeah, but I don’t play professionally yet because I’m currently working on getting my Masters degree,” I explain.

Vinson lets out an impressed whistle. “Nice. So, you’re planning on playing professionally once you’re done?”

I shrug. “That’s the plan, yes, but we’ll see what happens.”

He nods and smiles. “Good for you.”

“Thanks.” I smile back and point my thumb over my shoulder. “I should go. Tara might need something and I think I forgot my phone in her room.”

He nods again and ushers me to get going. I chuckle and turn to leave, feeling my smile drop a moment later when I round the corner and see Richie standing at the door to Tara’s room, clearly listening to what’s being said inside.

“Hey!”

He flinches and steps away from the door, his eyes widening when he sees me.

“What are you doing? Are you eavesdropping?” I know the question is unnecessary, because he clearly is, but I want to make him squirm.

He takes another step back and raises his hands defensively. “What? No, of course not.”

I continue walking toward him, closing the distance between us until we’re almost toe to toe. We’re the same height, so I can’t say I’m looking down when I level him with a challenging stare, yet he seems to be shrinking in on himself the longer I stare at him.

“I was just— I wasn’t,” he stutters, trying to explain himself, but then a shout from inside the room cuts him off.

“Get the fuck out!”

Tara.

A second later the door opens and Sam comes out with tears streaming down her face. She winces when she sees Richie and me and quickly wipes at her eyes while trying to suppress a sob.

What happened in there?

The look on her face and the tears in her eyes remind me of the night eleven years ago when she snuck into my room. I still don’t know why she did it back then, but I have a feeling it’s related to whatever just happened between her and Tara.

Unlike that night eleven years ago though, I don’t make a move to comfort her. Not necessarily because I don’t want to, I do and don’t at the same time, but because Richie beats me to it.

He pulls Sam into a hug and looks at me over her shoulder, daring me to continue my interrogation from before. And even though I would love to do nothing more than just that, I drop it and slip into the room.

If Sam is this upset, there’s a good chance Tara’s not doing any better either, and when I see her, sitting in her bed with her own tears streaming down her cheeks, I’m proven right.

I close the door behind me and quickly make my way to the bed, sitting down next to her and wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

“Hey, it’s going to be okay,” I whisper when she moves closer and buries her face in my shoulder. “You’ll be okay.”

“No. . .” She whimpers and hugs my waist. “Sam. . . She- She—“

“You don’t have to tell me what happened.” I cut her off, but she shakes her head.

“N-No, I do. You have to know,” she says, her voice muffled by our embrace.

I raise an eyebrow even though she can’t see it and ask, “Know what?”

Tara shudders and tightens her arms around me. “Billy Loomis is Sam’s real dad.“

Five years ago

“There you go, buddy. Sleep tight.” I laugh when Liam groans and buries his face in his pillow. He called me half an hour ago to pick him up from a party because Paige is sleeping at her girlfriend’s tonight and he didn’t want to bother her.

“Thank youuu, I love you,” he slurs and I just pat him on the back.

“I love you, too, dude.“ I go to the kitchen and fill a glass of water before returning to his room and placing it on his nightstand next to some painkillers. “Get some rest. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Thank you,” he mumbles again and then he’s out like a light.

I leave the apartment, locking the front door, and get into my car to start the short drive home.

It’s almost one in the morning, and I’m exhausted, but I’m glad Liam called me instead of driving home himself.

Yes it’s late, and yes, I’m tired, but I couldn’t have lived with myself if anything had happened to him if he’d gotten into his car, drunk, and gotten into an accident.

My parents woke up when I was on my way out, asking where I was going and when I told them, they simply told me to drive safely before going back to bed.

Now, I’m almost back home, and I can practically already feel the warm embrace of my bed again, but then I spot something that makes my heart stop.

Stumbling along the side walk with a man hot on her heels is Sam. The man keeps grabbing her arm, saying something, and she keeps brushing him off, obviously uncomfortable.

Her movements are uncoordinated and I hate the fact that I know why.

She’s high again.

Without thinking, I drive past them and pull over, stopping the car on the side walk right in front of them.

“Hey! Take a hike, dude,” I say, getting out of the car.

Sam and the man both come to a halt and stare at me. Sam barely even registers what’s going on, her glassy eyes staring right through me while the man scoffs and steps up to me.

“Mind your own business,” he growls. He seems to be in his thirties, has a buzz cut, and has a tattoo of a tiny rose on his temple.

“Sorry— No can do, pal,” I say calmly, trying not to cringe at the smell of alcohol on his breath. “She’s my friend, and you’re bothering her, so leave.”

“Or what?” he asks, smirking and revealing his chipped front tooth.

I sigh. “Or we’re going to have a problem.”

“Yeah?” He laughs and shoves me slightly. “What are you going to do, kid? Hmm? Call your parents? Or—“

My fist connects with his jaw, and a second later he’s on the ground, unconscious.

Was that a bit of an overreaction? Maybe. But did he deserve it? Definitely.

“Y/N!” Sam gapes at me. “W-What did you do?”

Even though she’s high, she doesn’t seem to have lost all of her ability to think straight. She sways on her feet and goes to crouch down next to the man, but I wrap my arms around her waist from behind and pull her back up.

“Come on, let’s get you home,” I say. She smells like alcohol, too, and I don’t even want to imagine the amount of drugs and alcohol she’s consumed tonight.

“No,” she slurs, weakly clawing at my arms. “I don’t— I don’t wanna go home. I wanna go— I wanna go with Josh.”

“Josh?” I ask. “You know that guy?”

“No— I mean, yes a little. He bought me a drink and—”

“He was trying to take advantage of you!” I argue, not letting go of her.

“No, he wasn’t!” she shouts and I cringe, hoping no one wakes up and looks out of their window because of her.

We’re in a quiet neighborhood, and I’m almost certain if someone saw us right now, they’d call the cops because they think I’m trying to kidnap her.

And I wouldn’t even blame them for it, because it definitely looks like it, but I’m really just trying to help.

This isn’t the first time I’ve taken her home after finding her high, and even though I’m used to the protest she puts up, the next thing she says catches me off guard.

“You always ruin everything, Y/N!”

I freeze and try not to let it get to my head, but her words tug at my heart painfully.

She doesn’t mean it. She doesn’t know what she’s saying.

I swallow the growing lump in my throat and loosen my hold on her a little. “Come on, Sam. I don’t want to fight. Just get in the car.”

Much to my surprise, a moment later, the fight leaves her body and she wordlessly let’s me lead her to the car.

I open the passenger door and help her in, making sure to put her seatbelt on before closing the door again and rounding the front of the car to get to the driver’s side.

As I open the door, the man, Josh, starts to regain consciousness. He groans and twists on the ground, making me roll my eyes.

Pathetic.

I know he’ll be fine since I didn’t hit him that hard, so I get in the car and pull back onto the road, leaving him behind just as he’s getting back up.

“I hate you,” Sam whispers a minute later. Her voice sounds clearer than before and the venom lacing her words makes me believe she actually means it.

She’s said it before, especially the first few times I picked her up from a party, but she’s never said it like this before.

It’s okay. It doesn’t matter. All that matters is that she’s safe.

There’s a big chance she won’t even remember saying it tomorrow morning, but I know I will.

Neither one of us says anything else while I drive until I pull up next to the curb by our houses.

Seeing Christina Carpenter’s car in Sam’s driveway, I figure it’s not the best idea to drag her up to their front door and ring the doorbell, so I take her to my house after helping her out of the car.

She’s back to being completely high, head lolling from side to side and steps totally uncoordinated, so as soon as we get inside, I pick her up and carry her up to my room.

I expected her to protest, to tell me to put her down immediately, but she doesn’t. Instead she wraps her arms around my neck and holds onto me while I carry her.

“Alright, here we go,” I whisper when we make it to my room. I’m not afraid of waking my parents because they’d understand why I brought Sam here instead of taking her home, but I don’t want them to worry, so I try to stay as quiet as possible.

It turns out, opening a door with a whole ass person in my arms is more of a challenge than I thought, but I eventually manage to get it open, stepping inside and closing it behind us again with a soft click.

“‘M tired,” Sam mumbles, her fingers curling around the fabric of my jacket.

“Yeah, I bet,” I say quietly, feeling my own exhaustion wash over me. “Just a little longer, then you can sleep.”

I gently place her on the bed and take off her shoes before pulling the comforter out from underneath her.

“Do you need anything else? Something to drink? A sweater,” I ask, but Sam doesn’t answer. She has her eyes closed and it looks like she’s already asleep. When I move to sleep on my couch on the other side of the room though, her hand shoots out and she grabs my wrist.

“Just you.”

I hesitate and try to ignore the way my skin tingles where she’s touching me.

I hate you.

The memory of her words stings and makes my heart ache, but then she opens her eyes and looks at me pleadingly.

It’s the kind of look she always uses when she wants something from me, so a moment later, I cave and slowly slip into bed next to her.

“Thank you,” she whispers and the sincerity with which she says it makes tears well up in my eyes.

First she says she hates me, then she asks me to sleep in the same bed with her.

I’m so confused and exhausted, it hurts, and I don’t know how much longer I can endure this emotional roller coaster.

She changed after that night six years ago when she snuck into my room, and at first I thought it was just a phase, but then her dad left and as time went on, she pulled away more and more, avoiding me until, eventually, she started drinking and doing drugs.

There are moments where her old self shines through, like last week, when we had a movie night with Tara and my parents, but those moments are rare and these days, they’re basically nonexistent.

“Y/N?”

I freeze, her sleepy voice bringing me back to reality.

“Yes?” I hold my breath, waiting for her to continue, but she never doesn’t. “Sam?”

I turn my head to look at her in the darkness and exhale shakily when I realize she’s asleep. I admire her soft features for a moment, taking note of how grown up she looks now that she’s turned eighteen, and tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. Then, I drop my hand on the mattress in the space between us and sigh.

“Good night, Sammy.”

The next morning when I wake up, I’m not surprised to find that she’s gone, just like that time when she snuck into my room.

I figure it’s probably best to give her some space, and let her deal with whatever she’s dealing with, but then, two days later, Tara calls me crying, and tells me Sam has left.

_______________________________________________

Tag list: @bella423 @artrizzler19 @btay3115 @canyonyodeler @quadofthec

[dreameryfics]

JJ MAYBANK x READER

Summary: The Kooks show up on the beach and JJ defends you

I was with the Pogues all day, like any other day. The sun was shining and the waves were awesome. We woke up that morning and quickly went to the beach. It seemed like everybody had that idea, the beaches filled up within ten minutes it seemed. We got the Twinkie to the beach, well John B did, but not without almost crashing since he was drinking. I tried to tell him to stop, but there was no telling that kid what to do.

I never really was taught how to surf, but that didn't stop me from going out there and just sitting on my surfboard. JJ has tried to help me, but I'm just not very coordinated, to say the least, but he still loves me. I watched everybody surf for a while before deciding to go back to the beach. As I was walking back to the Twinkie, I saw a Jeep start driving over my way. I knew it was Topper and his goons as soon as I saw the vehicle. I sat down on one of the folding chairs we had set up before going to the water, trying to ignore them. I watched as he parked next to us. "What the hell is he doing?" I heard someone ask, looking to see Kie walking over to me.

"I have no clue," I replied, "I just hope no drama happens. It's a nice day and I would hate to have it ruined by them.” I looked over to see Topper, Kelce, Rafe, and Ruthie. I've never liked Topper, but I don't think he's a bad person. I think he's so focused on Kooks versus Pogues, that nothing else matters. It's always been a competition between the two. "I don't understand how he goes from Sarah," I gesture over to Sarah, still surfing, "to Ruthie." I look over to where the Kooks are and see Ruthie glaring at us.

"Well, it's simple," Kie started, "he had the best with Sarah, and now he's just, well, desperate." We both chuckled. I looked over at Kie and saw her grabbing a beer from the cooler, she raised one up to me and I shook my head. I know that there should be at least one of us sober to drive home. "Kie, we're being real mean girls-esque right now," I pointed out. She shrugged her shoulder before responding to me, "Trust me, she's said way worse about us." Kie came over and sat next to me. We sat there for a while before we heard someone walking over to us.

"Hey, can you tell your asshole boyfriend to stop hogging all the waves?" I look up and see Ruthie talking to me, not even acknowledging Kie. I look out and see JJ standing up on his board, noticing Topper doing the same thing before jumping off into the water due to JJ getting in front of him. If it was any other situation I would mention something, but I also know JJ wouldn't do that to someone else. "Ruthie, I can't control what he does," I look up to her hovering over me, "he's out there and I'm over here." She rolls her eyes at me, "You're such a bitch. Can't you just do something for once in your life?" she asks me, it was more of a statement than anything.

"Ruthie," I stand up and walk in front of her, "if JJ comes over here, I'll say something, but until then, how about you go back to your friends and leave us alone." I turned around and started to walk over to the Twinkie, looking at Kie and rolling my eyes at the whole interaction. I didn't get too far before I felt hands on my back, pushing me forward. "What the fuck," I heard Kie shout before coming over to me. I looked back at Ruthie and rolled my eyes at her. “Can't believe you were ever a Kook," she said with attitude before walking away from us.

Kie started to go after her, wanting to protect her friends, but I pulled her back, "Kie, it's not worth it," I told her, "they'll just turn it into our fault if you do anything." She tries to argue with me, but I just sit back down in the chair, trying to forget the interaction. I'm fiddling with my nails when I hear someone ask, "Hey, you good?" I look up to find a shirtless JJ jogging over to me with his board under his arm. I look over and see Sarah and John B getting some drinks from the cooler. I didn't even notice they were back. I nodded my head at JJ and gave him a small smile. He came and squatted down to be level with me, he took my hands, "What happened?"

"Ruthie," I replied looking back down, "she came over and was talking shit. Normal Kook behavior." I looked up at him before I heard Kie, "She pushed her, but your girlfriend over there decided to take the high road. Wouldn't even let me go after her." I looked over at Kie and gave her a look, not wanting her to have said anything. I look back to JJ who is looking over at the group of Kooks. "JJ, it's fine," I tell him placing my hand on his cheek, trying to calm the storm that is forming. He quickly stood up and started walking over to them. I quickly got up and went after him to stop him, but not before Topper yelled over at us, "Oh, look who it is, the Pogue prince and princess."

I took JJ's hand in mine, trying to calm him down. I felt him squeeze my hand tighter, letting me know he was fine. "Topper, let's cut the bullshit," JJ said in an annoyed voice, "all we wanted to do was enjoy the waves and the nice weather but you always seem to be right there, ruining it; your girlfriend too." Topper chuckles at JJ and gets closer to him, "I'm not the one ruining it. You pushed me off my board, and Ruthie here was just defending me."

"I didn't push you off your board, you jumped off," he stated with a small smirk on his lips. "Plus, you had been getting in front of us every other time, I thought it was a competition." Topper scoffs at JJ. I had only seen JJ get in front of Topper that one time, but it didn't surprise me that they had been getting in front of JJ beforehand. "Yup," Topper dramatically throws his hand up in the air, "it's always the damn Kooks fault with you guys."

"Seriously Top," I interrupted getting closer to him, "You've always hated the Pogues, don't act all high and mighty. You've started shit with them so many times I can't even remember. Even when we were friends you were an asshole to them." He looks at me with wide eyes, "I can't imagine what Sarah ever saw in you." As I turn my back away from him, I'm quickly pushed to the ground. "What the fuck!" I hear JJ yell before helping me off the ground. I wipe the sand off my legs and turn to face them. Ruthie was smirking at me, proud of herself. Topper was staring at her with a hint of anger in his face.

"Don't ever fucking touch her again," JJ said to Ruthie, but it was directed towards the entire group. I started walking away, not wanting to even be on the beach anymore. I overheard JJ add, "Don't even come near her or I'll fucking end you."

I heard his feet shuffle in the sand to catch up with me. He took my hand and faced me towards him. "I'm so sorry princess," he said before he engulfed me into a hug. I wrapped my arms around him and he placed a kiss on the top of my head. "If they ever bother you again," he says and places his hands on either side of my face, looking at me, "please tell me." I shook my head at him before he put his arms around me and pulled me into another hug. I've never felt more safe than when I'm in his arms.

We walk back to where the rest of the group is standing. They started asking questions about what happened and we told them. "How was I ever with him before you," Sarah asks looking over at John B. He shrugs his shoulders before we all chuckle at her, trying to in fact imagine what she saw in Topper. We packed up our things and left soon after, not wanting to be on the beach any longer.

We drove home and quickly unpacked our things before we went to the house. We were stopped at the door by Pope, with bloody hands. The atmosphere taking a drastic change from earlier.

I started this with a different ending in mind, but it didn't go in that direction so here we are... Not my favorite but it's what I got lol

[jadkyll]

jade leech -

-likes to think he’s found a kindred spirit.

you both playing this little, game every time you grace the monstro lounge with your presence.

the tea game, he muses to himself one day.

sitting you down in a cicular booth facing the giant aquarium, jade would hand you a small, black leather menu and the monstro’s signature plum leather menu. both having gold dipped edged you’d use to peel them open and look at their insides.

the smaller menu, the one you would only get and your friends would crowd around you once it was in your hands, trying to peer inside at it’s secrets- was a special menu.

a secret one.

only jade and azul had the authority to give out these menus- floyd showing time and time again that he’d hand them out just to screw with the two, had his privileges revoked.

it always made jade smile when he’d set down your special meal, your friends eyes lighting up the cool, dim lighting of the resturant. their eyes hubgrily eating up every detail of the dish.

honeyed ham

seasoned sea food boil

shrimp ala- whatever.

while your two friends from heartslabyul were stuck with the ‘surf ‘n turf,’ you were out here eating like a king.

jade’s quick, gloved hands ready to slap away any sticky fingers- paws that tried eating from your plate. his plate.

jade could care less about the roasted lamb, or the fish heads packed with flavors.

your relationship blossomed from tea. the leaves that jade would expertly mix and seep into a perfect blend for each customer. his own inventions being placed on the secret menu, or promotions for a monstro event that had the customers vying for more.

jade would watch with a baited breath as you took a sip, lashes fluttering closed so you could focus on your taste buds.

a scrunched face meant you didn’t like it, lifted brows meant you were pleasantly surprised, and when you would swoosh it around your mouth like mouth wash? well, that meant jade had won.

the first few tomes you were at the lounge you would order a different tea and a light snack- sometimes a salad and other times 3 whole crabs for you and grim. jade remembers that day, when it was you 5 in a booth, very clearly.

have you heard about the joke where you, grim, and 3 crabs walked into a bar?

besides the point-

jade was watching you scan the menu, a stink on your face as you were stuck on the teas.

he remembers floyd calling you ‘weird’ when jade brought the order to the kitchen. ‘who orders tea with crab?’ his face contorted in disgust as a minnow swims around floyd. he always had a way of bending his environments to his will.

but jade just stares at the ticket, “yes,” he says, “how weird indeed”

“oi get that creepy smile off yer face. yer creep’n me out”

as usual jade seeps your tea and you drink it. he knows you. your tea.

there’s something so intimate about knowing exactly how someone likes their tea that gives jade satisfaction.

you put your trust in his hands. his cynical, conniving hands.

he could spit in your tea ya know. he’s done it before to especially annoying customers. who think they’re in control because he’s serving them. mix up with a pinch of salt, or a dash of sriracha sauce and he’s grinning ear to ear as they down it.

oh lovely.

—

but he’d never do that to you.. he hopes he doesn’t have to.

it takes you 3 visits and a menu change to finally convince azul to let you in on the monstro’s little secret.

jade, as he brags, harassed azul to put more teas on the menu. when he did add 2 more jade deemed it, ‘not good enough.’ azul buying into it (for profit) added teas to the daily specials.

“not good enough. i have an audience to apease and you are stifling my creative endeavors. i will not tolerate such a-“

“just give her the menu jade! sevens above!-“

if jade leech ever did skip, he’d be on his way with a heel click.

so you can obviously imagine his grin as he places the leather book in your mitts, your friends asking where theirs is- only to get ignored.

“please do not share the contents inside with other parties. this is strictly for our monstro vip’s and will be confiscated if you cannot follow our rules.” he bows in thanks as you voice your agreement.

turning his heel he can practically hear the chaos ensuing as your friends try reaching and peeking.

“tropical darljeeng, wonder how’ll it’ll work” you grin as jade jots down your order. you had told him to give you whatever he wanted to give you. ‘dealers choice’ to be more specific.

…what jade won’t ever tell anyone is that he made that tea thinking of you.

it was a black tea, infused with an opposing flavor. tropical against woody, you and him. a child of the sea and child of the land. never meant to work and mix yet has a unique addicting flavor to it.

non tea enjoyers would know that darjeeling is more… robust.

it can turn off people just from the description- tropical tea with a black tea?? are you nuts?!

yes. yes he is.

so jade is pleasantly surprised when you ask him for another cup the moment you took a sip…

he leaves his number under the tea mug, and gets a text an hour later.