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writingbuckets · 1 day ago

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The Hot Take: Part 3

paige bueckers x influencer!reader

wc: 2.8k

a/n: the only i have to say is that i shocked myself with my flirting... enjoy!

**********

After your night at the game, it feels like the internet has exploded. Your mentions are on fire with fans on both sides—some praising your brutal honesty about Paige, others calling you out for downplaying her talent. It’s only natural that you decide to dedicate an entire podcast episode to the experience.

You settle into your recording setup, feeling a mix of anticipation and nerves—after all, tonight is a first. Across the table sits Paige Bueckers, cool and composed, though you catch a hint of mischief in her eyes as she adjusts her mic. You take a deep breath and lean in, grinning at your co-host before addressing the audience.

“Welcome back to The Hot Take! And tonight, we’re in for a treat. As you’ve probably guessed, we’ve got a special guest in the studio… the one, the only, Paige Bueckers!” You gesture toward her dramatically, and your co-host plays a quick soundbite of applause and crowd cheers, adding to the show’s theatrics.

Paige laughs, crossing her arms as she glances at you. “The crowd goes wild. I didn’t think you’d actually let me come on here, considering all the things you’ve said about me.”

You shoot her a mock-offended look. “What things? I’m nothing if not fair and unbiased.”

She raises an eyebrow, a playful glint in her eye. “Oh, totally. Because your comment was so fair and unbiased.”

Your co-host snickers. “Well, Paige, you’re in the right place if you want to get your revenge. Y/N here is known for her ‘brutal honesty.’ But hey, tonight might be a chance for you to change her mind.”

“Is that a challenge?” Paige asks, leaning forward, her gaze never leaving yours.

“Depends. You think you’re up for it?” you reply, meeting her eyes head-on, enjoying the charge of the challenge between you two.

“Oh, I’m always up for a challenge,” she responds smoothly, flashing a grin that has you momentarily caught off guard.

Your co-host breaks the tension with a laugh. “Alright, alright, let’s jump right in. Y/N, you’ve had plenty to say about Paige in the past. Care to share some of those hot takes now that she’s here to defend herself?”

You clear your throat, trying to hide your smirk. “Alright, let’s get one thing straight,” you say, addressing both the mic and Paige. “As much as it pains me to admit this…” You pause dramatically, shooting a look her way. “Bueckers actually impressed me the other night.”

Paige raises an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Really? I didn’t think you’d ever admit that.”

“I know, it’s shocking, but credit where credit’s due,” you continue. “I mean, you’re quick on the court, you know your angles, and—dare I say it—you know how to work a crowd.”

Paige laughs, eyes dancing with mischief. “Oh, so you were paying attention. Here I was, thinking you came just to judge.”

“Oh, I absolutely came to judge,” you reply, grinning. “But I also got to see you actually back it up with skill. It was… not as overrated as I’d assumed.” You shoot her a wink, and she laughs, shaking her head.

“High praise,” she replies, feigning a look of being overwhelmed. “I didn’t realize tonight was all about showering me with compliments.”

Your co-host jumps in, clearly amused by the dynamic. “Wait, Y/N, are you actually going soft? Compliments? Feeling a little flustered, maybe?”

You shake your head, grinning. “Don’t get it twisted. I’m just saying, maybe I underestimated you.” You turn to Paige. “Don’t let it go to your head, though. I’m not here to just hype you up.”

Paige leans back in her chair, looking entirely at ease. “Don’t worry. I can handle a little constructive criticism. Hit me with your best shot.”

You take the opportunity, leaning forward with a smirk. “Alright, if you insist. Here’s my take: For all that talent, you could be a bit more creative with your moves. Sometimes it feels like you rely on what’s tried and true instead of taking risks.”

She smirks back. “And sometimes critics don’t realize the importance of consistency,” she counters smoothly. “Winning isn’t about impressing people—it’s about doing what works.”

“Touché,” you reply, though you’re secretly impressed by her response. You decide to press a little further. “Alright, so if it’s all about winning, how do you handle the pressure that comes with it? Isn’t there a part of you that wants to switch things up now and then?”

Paige leans forward, crossing her arms on the table. “I get that all the time. But you know, winning takes priority. Switching things up? That’s for off the court.” Her gaze holds yours, and for a second, you wonder if she’s talking about more than just basketball.

Your co-host notices the silent exchange and interrupts with a grin. “Okay, okay, I feel like there’s a whole vibe happening here that I did not sign up for!”

The comment pulls you back, and you laugh, brushing it off. “Nothing happening here,” you insist, stealing a quick glance at Paige.

Paige holds back a smirk, shrugging. “Sure, whatever you say.” But the gleam in her eye says otherwise.

Trying to keep things on track, you steer the conversation back to basketball, although the flirtatious edge remains. “Alright, Bueckers, one more thing. I’ll admit, you’ve got talent. But do you ever worry about being put in a box? People see you a certain way, and that’s how they’ll always see you.”

Paige pauses, and for a moment, the playful banter takes on a serious note. “Yeah, I get that. People think they know you, based on what they see online or on the court. But the truth is, they’re only seeing one side.”

It’s unexpectedly candid, and you nod, finding a bit of yourself in her answer. “Yeah. I get that. People always think they know everything from what they see online, but there’s always more, right?”

Paige’s gaze softens just slightly, and she nods. “Exactly. Sometimes I think it would be nice if people saw more than the ‘player’ version of me.”

You raise an eyebrow, catching the hint in her tone. “So… what would that look like, Bueckers?”

She gives you a playful smirk, leaning back in her chair. “Maybe you’ll find out if you’re lucky.”

Your co-host interjects, clearly amused. “Did I miss something here, or is this turning into a date?”

Both you and Paige laugh, shaking your heads in sync. “Not quite,” you say quickly, though your heart skips a beat.

Before wrapping up, you give Paige the last word. “Alright, Bueckers, we’ve had our fun. Any final words for our listeners?”

She leans toward the mic, glancing at you with a grin. “Only that this isn’t the last time you’ll hear from me, Y/N. I’m sticking around to make sure you don’t underestimate me again.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Well, bring your best game, then. I’ll be ready.”

The episode wraps up with lingering tension and the audience buzzing with intrigue, speculating wildly in the comments and social media. As you both step away from the mics, Paige meets your gaze with a small smile.

“Nice job,” she says, extending a hand.

You shake it, feeling the warmth of her grip, the playful energy still sparking between you. “Likewise, Bueckers. Just don’t expect me to go easy on you next time.”

She gives you a wink. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

**********

Not even an hour after the episode goes live, the reactions flood in. Your notifications blow up with fire emojis, heart-eyes, and endless comments as fans dissect every word, every sly look you exchanged with Paige, and every playful jab you threw her way. People seem to be either thrilled by your shift in tone or mourning the sharper edge of your usual critique. But there’s one thing they all seem to agree on—your chemistry with Paige was undeniable, and they’re dying to see where this dynamic goes next.

Then come the memes: screenshots of you glancing at Paige with a mix of disbelief and amusement, clips from older episodes where you roasted her, and side-by-sides comparing your expressions with Paige’s iconic moments on the court. One of your favorites is a split image of you with an exaggerated, eye-rolling expression, paired with Paige’s confident smirk from one of her highlight games. People are clearly having a field day, and you find yourself chuckling at the creativity as you scroll through the tag.

But just as you’re considering logging off for the night, a notification grabs your attention. It’s a comment from none other than Paige herself.

@PaigeBueckers: “Glad to see you’re finally catching on, Y/N. Game recognizes game, right? 😏”

You smirk, typing back a quick reply.

@notY/N: “Don’t get too comfortable, Bueckers. I’m just warming up. 😏”

Paige responds almost instantly, and suddenly, it’s a back-and-forth on full display for everyone to see.

@PaigeBueckers: “Comfortable? Nah. Just giving you something to talk about on that next episode of yours.”

@notY/N: “Who says you’re interesting enough for a second episode?”

@PaigeBueckers: “Guess I’ll just have to prove you wrong, then. Challenge accepted?”

The thread quickly spirals as fans jump in, hyping up every comment exchange, adding their own captions, and stirring up theories about your “rivalry.” By the time you close the app, #YNPBChallenge is trending, with people eagerly waiting for your next move. And though you won’t admit it, you’re already curious about hers.

Within hours, sports outlets start covering the “feud.” Clips of your episode circulate, paired with screenshots of Paige’s comments. Twitter is filled with fans trying to decode every little interaction, with hashtags like #PaigeAndY/N and #RivalryGoals popping up as the top trends. Some fans eagerly ship you and Paige, while others are taking sides, wanting to see if your critique holds up in future episodes.

Some of Paige’s teammates even get in on the fun, teasing her about the exchanges. Azzi Fudd, in particular, tweets, “So… when’s the first date, @paigebueckers? 👀”

You laugh when you see it, because of course Paige’s friends would be watching the whole thing unfold. You decide to add your own little stir to the pot.

Replying to Azzi’s tweet, you type, “First date? I think she’d need to step up her game a bit first.”

Not even a minute later, Paige replies to you directly: “Challenge accepted.”

The thread is flooded with reactions, and for a moment, it’s as if the entire internet is watching you two flirt in real time. You know it’s all in good fun, but there’s an undeniable thrill to it.

After the whirlwind of social media reactions, you finally step away from your phone, still replaying the day’s events. There’s an undeniable energy to this back-and-forth with Paige. Even through playful jabs and witty comebacks, there’s something deeper simmering—something that leaves you more curious than you’d like to admit.

Just as you’re about to call it a night, a new notification lights up your screen: a direct message from Paige herself. You hesitate for a moment, feeling an odd mix of excitement and nerves, and then finally open it.

Paige: “So… I’m dying to know—did you expect all of this to blow up the way it did?”

Her message catches you off guard. You’d expected something more competitive, maybe another cheeky comment. But this question feels more open, almost as if she’s genuinely curious about your perspective on all this unexpected attention.

Y/N: “Honestly? Not at all. I mean, I’m used to a little backlash, but this? Everyone’s treating it like it’s the story of the year.”

Paige: “Right? It’s kind of insane, but I have to say, you seem to handle it like a pro.”

A smile tugs at your lips. The words are simple enough, but there’s a warmth there, a hint of respect that takes you by surprise. You hadn’t expected Paige to be this down-to-earth.

Y/N: “I guess that’s part of the job, right? You get used to it, even when it’s… unexpected.”

Paige: “Guess we both know what that’s like. I mean, people see us a certain way, but they don’t really get the whole picture.”

Her message resonates with you in a way you hadn’t anticipated. It’s something you’ve thought about often—the assumptions people make, the way fans and critics alike paint you in broad strokes, not really seeing the person underneath. The more you think about it, the more you realize that Paige might understand that better than most.

Y/N: “True. Everyone thinks they know us based on what they see online, but there’s a lot that doesn’t make the highlight reel, right?”

Paige: “Exactly. It’s easy to play a role, keep it simple. But sometimes, it’s nice to just be real with someone who gets it.”

There’s a pause, a subtle weight to her words that makes you wonder if this is just harmless banter, or something more.

Y/N: “So, you’re saying I’m good enough to get the ‘real’ Paige Bueckers?”

Paige: “I’m saying maybe you’re not as overrated as you think you are, Y/N.”

You can’t help but laugh, the slight warmth of her compliment balanced by her usual dose of teasing. But even as the conversation winds down, a part of you can’t shake the feeling that this might be the start of something… different. The back-and-forth, the playful ribbing—it’s beginning to feel like more than just banter.

You let out a soft laugh, staring at the screen a little longer than you meant to, absorbing Paige’s last message. You’d expected a snarky retort, maybe a playful jab, but this? This is something else, something that has you wondering if she’s just as curious as you are. Before you can overthink it, you decide to keep the conversation going.

Y/N: “Alright, I’ll take that as a compliment—coming from someone who’s probably had a lifetime supply of them.”

Paige: “You’d think so, but it’s funny how most of them don’t mean much. I think I’ve just gotten good at smiling and nodding.”

Her honesty catches you off guard. It’s a rare moment of vulnerability, one that’s different from the playful façade you’d seen at the game and in her comments. You find yourself softening, recognizing a piece of yourself in her words.

Y/N: “I get it. People are quick to build you up, but they don’t always see the work behind it. Or the stuff you keep off-camera.”

Paige: “Exactly. Sometimes it feels like it’s just about meeting everyone’s expectations.”

You feel a pang of understanding. Despite the banter, the jabs, you realize there’s a part of her that just wants to be seen for more than the hype, more than the image fans have painted of her. And, you realize, maybe that’s why this little rivalry-turned-conversation feels different than anything you’ve experienced before.

Y/N: “Well, for what it’s worth, I’m here for the real version of you—whatever that looks like.”

She doesn’t respond immediately, and you wonder if you’d gone too far. But just as you’re about to backpedal, her response pops up.

Paige: “Same goes for you, Y/N. Guess that means we’ll have to see what that actually looks like, right?”

Her words make your stomach do an unexpected flip. It’s an invitation, subtle but clear, to get to know her beyond the rivalry, beyond the image. And suddenly, it feels like this whole thing—the online banter, the “feud,” the unexpected DM—has been leading up to this moment.

Y/N: “Guess so. So, next time we bump into each other… coffee? Or are you more of a smoothie person?”

She replies almost instantly.

Paige: "Coffee works, as long as you promise not to trash-talk me in front of the barista."

You laugh, feeling a warmth that has nothing to do with the banter and everything to do with her openness.

Y/N: “Fine, I’ll tone it down. But don’t get too comfortable—I’m not going easy on you.”

Paige: “Wouldn’t expect anything less.”

There’s a pause after that, a comfortable silence that feels like both a beginning and a challenge. As you put your phone down, a smile still on your face, you realize you’re genuinely excited to see where this goes.

#paige buckets #paige bueckers #paige bueckers fic #paige bueckers x reader #uconn huskies #uconn wcbb #wcbb #wlw fanfic #wlw post

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seitmai · 2 days ago

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Slowly, you sit up, blinking into your lap as Jake says something about an ambulance. You pass a hand over your brow, noting the sweat that’s gathered there, as Bradley starts listing off the various nutrient deficiencies that you may or may not possess. You glance up at the two of them feebly.

Not Bradley going over nutrient deficiencies lmao

“Did you take something?” he asks. “Not judging,” he adds. “Just need to tell the ambulance what you’re on.”

Hahah fair😅

“Fuck,” you mutter. “You guys actually called an ambulance?” “We thought you died,” Jake replies curtly. You look up at the back of his head as he waves over the medics. “Maybe check for a pulse next time,” you say, your ability to utilize sarcasm apparently restored.

Are those two not getting any first aid/cpr training at the Navy lol?

“I’m sorry,” he breathes and then squeezes his eyes shut and brings his hands up to his face. He pulls in a lungful of air, and then another. And then he lets out a sob. You open your eyes all the way and even lift your head up off the cushion slightly. “Are you crying?”Jake inhales sharply again and then releases an unsteady breath. He rubs the moisture from his eyes away roughly and lets out another sigh. “You scared the shit out of me,” he mutters, his voice just barely above a whisper. His glistening eyes finally meet yours.

🥺🥺🥺

"You’ve seen planes being shot out of the sky,” you remind him. Surely this can’t have been more traumatic than his job.

For real!

Jake gapes at you. “Your eyes rolled to the back of your head.” You grimace. “Eww. You don’t have to be so graphic.”

🤭🤭🤭

Jake chuckles and sniffles. “I’ve never been more terrified in my life.”

It's actually really cute how worried he is 🥹

You cringe at the green liquid in the glass. “I prefer to chew my food.” “Well, you’re in luck then,” he says. “Because the blender’s busted so this might be a little chunky.”

As Bradley shuffles about the kitchen, you contemplate your relationship with Jake, wondering if Bradley might be right. You fell for Jake long before he became boyfriend material and there are qualities about him you wouldn’t change for the world. But have there been things that you’ve tried to correct? Have you been unwittingly changing him? Shaping him into something he was never meant to be?

Noooo don't let this get in your head!!

“Oh my god, I love you!” you exclaim. Jake’s hand freezes in midair as he’s about to set down his offering on the coffee table. You meet his gaze in alarm, realizing what you’d just said. What you’d just admitted. Meanwhile, Bradley strolls into the living room, humming a tune, as oblivious as ever.

Bradley just sipping on his chunky smoothie with his head on another planet not registering a thing lol

“Wait for what?” you yell. “For you to finish freaking out?” Jake looks like he might be on the verge of tears. “I’m sorry,” he repeats. “I wasn’t looking for you to say it back,” you declare. “But I admit that I was hoping for a more considerate acknowledgement.”

I think that's reasonable..

“I never would’ve gone there with you – kissed you, lied to Bradley” – Jake frowns slightly. “Never in a million years, Baby B. If I didn’t know without a shadow of a doubt that I was in love with you.” You gaze up at him, justifiably speechless. The fact that he didn’t make a move until he was absolutely certain sets your heart aflutter. You squeeze yourself into him and mutter sheepishly, “So, you love me back, then?” Jake chuckles and wraps his arms around you tightly. “You’re unbelievable,” he says. “Of course I fucking love you back.”

🥰🥰🥰

Brother's Best Friend - Part 14

Jake Seresin x F!Reader

Summary: The trials and tribulations of falling for your brother's best friend.

CW: swearing, a smidge of angst, and some good ol' fluff because that's what BBF is all about!

WC: 2900+

Part 1 | Masterlist

You look up as the door creaks open, your hand sweating against Jake’s palm. Your chest tightens and your head swims. Suddenly, your vision blurs.

…

You hear your name, but it’s muted, like someone is saying it underwater. You open your eyes and see two anxious faces hovering over you. You try to sit up, but your head is heavy and your limbs are weak and you’re disoriented because Jake and Bradley’s voices are getting louder and more overwhelming with every second. You want to tell them to be quiet but the words can’t seem to form in your mouth, or, rather, you’re far too exhausted to make the effort to speak.

Both enormous, grown-ass men are crouched before you, staring at you in terror.

“What happened?” Jake asks and you blink at him slowly, wondering the same thing.

“Are you okay?” Bradley says, tilting his head to the side so he could catch your gaze.

You nod uncertainly, because you’re not a hundred percent sure that you are. You look around unhurriedly, taking in your surroundings. You’re on the porch of your house in a cute little dress, and the porchlight is on because it’s dark out. And then it hits you like a ton of bricks. You’re still on the porch. Has Bradley been informed of the relationship? Or did he already know? Was he angry? Did you get caught in the crossfire and get knocked out?

You blink anxiously – and more alertly – between Jake and Bradley, trying to assess the situation. Neither of them seems to be paying any attention to one another; only to you. “What…” you start, but your voice croaks and you bring a hand up to your throat self-consciously. You clear your throat and start again. “What’s going on?” you ask casually, as though you’re not sitting unsteadily on the ground with no recollection of the last god knows how many minutes.

Bradley’s eyes widen in outrage. “What’s going on is you fucking fainted!”

You look at him with soaring eyebrows. “I did?”

“Right before Bradley came out to take out the trash,” Jake says, giving you a meaningful look.

“Ohhh,” you reply, dragging out the word. “The trash.” You nod again, trying to organize all of the information in your presently scrambled brain. “The trash,” you repeat.

“It’s garbage day tomorrow,” Bradley clarifies.

“Right.” You rub your sweaty palms on your thighs. “Garbage day.”

“And then you just” – Bradley makes a motion with his arm to indicate that you toppled over like a tree might fall when it’s chopped down, and you eye him thoughtfully, doubting your collapse was that dramatic. “You're lucky Seresin was here to catch you. You could have cracked your head open on the concrete.”

You glance over at Jake who’s keeping an unusually straight face. “So lucky,” you mutter without a hint of sarcasm because you don’t think you’re quite capable of that just yet. Nonetheless, Jake throws you a pointed look.

“You’re home late,” Bradley says casually, but you could tell that he’s concerned. “Did you party a little too hard?”

You furrow your eyebrows at him. “Me?” you ask, amused that he’s the one asking you this question and not the other way around.

“Did you take something?” he asks. “Not judging,” he adds. “Just need to tell the ambulance what you’re on.”

Jake briefly drops his head into his hand, but recovers just as quickly. “I don’t think she’s on anything,” he says quietly.

You give Jake a sour look because the only thing you’re on is four vintage cocktails and an espresso, and he knows it.

Bradley sighs. “Where were you, anyway?” he asks. “That Jake had to go pick you up?”

You narrow your eyes at your brother and then at your boyfriend, who is expertly avoiding your gaze. Clearly, he’s decided that Bradley is not equipped to handle two calamities in the same evening. “I was on a date,” you state contemptuously.

Jake stares at you rigidly while Bradley cringes. “I'm guessing it didn’t end well?”

You press your lips together irritably. “You could say that.”

Jake rolls his eyes and stands up. “Ambulance is here,” he says just as the ambulance pulls up and two paramedics rush up your driveway.

“Fuck,” you mutter. “You guys actually called an ambulance?”

“We thought you died,” Jake replies curtly.

You look up at the back of his head as he waves over the medics. “Maybe check for a pulse next time,” you say, your ability to utilize sarcasm apparently restored.

…

After you are thoroughly checked out and given the okay to stay home for the night, you trudge tiredly to the living room couch, Jake and Bradley hot on your heels.

“You should go to bed,” Jake says as you plop down into the cushions. “You need to rest.”

You close your eyes, sinking further into the cushions with a groan. “I won’t make it,” you respond, feeling the exhaustion as if it were a physical thing weighing you down.

Bradley places his hands on his hips. “Jake’s right, you need to get some sleep.”

“I am,” you whisper, your eyelids heavier than they've ever been.

“I’ve got an early day,” Bradley says apprehensively, as though he doesn’t want to leave.

“Go on, I’ll stay with her,” Jake says.

Bradley waits a beat, considering the offer, and then turns to look at his friend. “Thanks, man.” Bradley replies, giving Jake a pat on the shoulder. “I appreciate it.”

Jake nods without looking him in the eye and, once Bradley is upstairs, he approaches you slowly. He takes a seat on the opposite end of the couch.

You open your eyes about halfway, watching him warily. “I don’t think it’s contagious,” you murmur.

Jake doesn’t laugh. Instead, he eyes you grimly from his corner of the couch.

“Why aren’t you talking?” you ask, getting a little nervous because Jake isn’t normally the quiet type.

“I’m sorry,” he breathes and then squeezes his eyes shut and brings his hands up to his face. He pulls in a lungful of air, and then another. And then he lets out a sob.

You open your eyes all the way and even lift your head up off the cushion slightly. “Are you crying?”

Jake inhales sharply again and then releases an unsteady breath. He rubs the moisture from his eyes away roughly and lets out another sigh. “You scared the shit out of me,” he mutters, his voice just barely above a whisper. His glistening eyes finally meet yours.

You stare at him. “Did you actually think I died?”

“I’ve never seen anybody faint before,” he admits.

“You’ve seen planes being shot out of the sky,” you remind him. Surely this can’t have been more traumatic than his job.

Jake gapes at you. “Your eyes rolled to the back of your head.”

You grimace. “Eww. You don’t have to be so graphic.”

Jake chuckles and sniffles. “I’ve never been more terrified in my life.”

You drop your gaze into your lap. “Is that why you didn’t tell him?”

Jake sighs and brings a fist to his mouth. “What would I say, Baby B? ‘Hey, by the way, I’m dating your sister and she’s so stressed out about it that she’s fallen unconscious on the doorstep?’ Sorry, bro?”

You pout sullenly. “That’s not why I passed out.”

“Are you sure?” he asks. “Because if I’m the reason –”

“You’re not the reason,” you assure him, although you’re fairly certain he hit the nail right on the head.

Jake releases another heavy sigh. “I’ll tell him tomorrow.”

You close your eyes and rest the back of your head on the cushion once more. “Okay, Seresin,” you respond calmly. “But, if you don’t, I will.”

Jake slides closer to you on the couch and puts his arm above your head. You lift it slightly so that he could tuck his arm underneath, and then you let him pull you in. Falling asleep in this kind of embrace is all you’ve ever wanted since you met him but, alas, this moment feels less than magical.

…

The following morning, you’re startled awake by an obnoxious grinding sound that gradually turns to a sort of whirring. Bradley is in the kitchen making his morning shake. You glance around the room because you’re alone on the couch.

“Is Jake gone?” you call out to your brother.

“Good morning to you too,” Bradley calls back and then walks into the living room holding two shakes. “Made you breakfast.”

You cringe at the green liquid in the glass. “I prefer to chew my food.”

“Well, you’re in luck then,” he says. “Because the blender’s busted so this might be a little chunky.”

You hold back a gag. “Thanks,” you croak, taking the glass from Bradley’s hand as he sits on the couch at your feet.

“Sleep well?” he asks, taking a large gulp of his shake.

“I think so,” you respond, propping yourself up on a throw pillow and taking a sip. “This isn’t so bad, actually.”

Bradley shoots you a self-satisfied look. “I put Nutella in yours.”

You smile at him. “Sorry for the scare.”

Bradley watches you silently for a moment before taking another swig of his breakfast. “I’m concerned, Y/N.”

You sit up straighter. “I’m fine now.”

Bradley shakes his head. “I’m talking about Jake.”

You blink at him innocently while your guts twist in on themselves with dread. “What about Jake?”

“Have you noticed anything off about him lately?” he asks.

“Uh.” You gulp, stalling. “Not really. Have you?”

Bradley sighs. “He’s just been sort of…I dunno. Weird.”

“How so?” you ask, even though you know exactly how so. No doubt Bradley has taken note of Jake’s sudden disinterest in women and it strikes him as odd, considering his history.

“That chick he was dating, remember the one we teased him about? I’m pretty sure he’s still with her,” he says.

You take a long sip of your drink before responding. “Is that a bad thing?”

“I’m not sure,” he says. “I just have a bad feeling about it.”

You glance up at him nervously. “Why?”

Bradley meets your gaze with a defeated expression. “She’s changing him.”

You are far too guilt-ridden to keep looking your brother in the eye, so you drop your gaze to instead study the puke-green color of your shake. “For the worse?” you ask quietly.

Bradley sighs. “I can’t tell.”

You bite your lip, trying not to frown too hard. “He shouldn’t have to change,” you say.

Bradley nods slowly. “That’s what I was thinking.” You swallow another chunky mouthful of your breakfast shake as Bradley rises from the couch. “You should get some more sleep,” he says. “I’ll see you after work.”

As you sit there in thought, Jake walks through the front door with a paper bag and a tray of coffees. “I brought breakfast!” he calls when Bradley peeks his head out of the kitchen.

“Thank god,” you mutter, setting down your half-drunk shake.

Bradley gives you a look. “I heard that.”

You purse your lips to hide a grin. “I’m hungry!”

“I fed you!” Bradley exclaims.

“I’m hungry for real food, not plants,” you whine.

Jake enters the living room proudly. “Real food, coming right up,” he declares.

“Oh my god, I love you!” you exclaim.

Jake’s hand freezes in midair as he’s about to set down his offering on the coffee table. You meet his gaze in alarm, realizing what you’d just said. What you’d just admitted. Meanwhile, Bradley strolls into the living room, humming a tune, as oblivious as ever.

Your heart pounds in your chest as Jake slowly lowers the bag onto the table, his eyes still locked on yours. “I made you breakfast,” Bradley says, sticking his hand into the bag to retrieve a wrapped bagel. “But him, you love.” Bradley proceeds to unwrap his bagel. “I see how it is,” he says after taking a bite.

You swallow around a giant lump in your throat, suddenly not remotely hungry. “I…” you start, your voice wavering uncontrollably. “I… love food,” you conclude.

Bradley raises his eyebrows. “You were talking to the bagels?”

You notice Jake suck in his cheeks as he tries not to laugh.

You nod vehemently, feeling like you might just faint again. “Can you pass me one?” You reach your hand out, ignoring Jake’s face completely as he hands you a bagel.

“Alright, kids,” Bradley says. “I’m out.” He starts for the door but, just before leaving, he calls out, “Behave.”

The sound of the door closing behind him makes you severely nauseated, because it directly precedes the moment you have to face Jake. You glance up at him slowly as he digs his own bagel out of the bag. Finally, his eyes meet yours. “’Sup, Baby B?” he says nonchalantly, and you can tell that he’s prepared to overlook the slip if you are. For all he knows, it was a completely innocent statement and meant nothing at all.

But you know otherwise. And perhaps it’s the residual stress or the lack of sleep, or perhaps it’s the fear that your brother might be right about your influence over Jake, but you suddenly feel compelled to tell him. You suddenly feel like he has a right know. “I wasn’t talking to the bagels,” you blurt out.

Jake glances up at you in surprise. He gives you a small smile. “You don’t say,” he responds wryly.

You let out an impatient sigh, annoyed that he’s being so flippant. “I’m being serious.”

Jake nods. “Oh, I know. You were talking to the coffee, obviously.” He tries to hand you a cup.

“Jake!” you exclaim. “Stop being an idiot! I’m telling you I love you!”

Jake sets the cup down and blinks at you with a small, wonderstruck smile, like he can’t quite believe that you’ve said it again. “You mean it?” he asks.

You stare at him wide-eyed, alarmed that that’s all he’s got to say. But it’s not as if you can take it back now. You nod hesitantly.

Jake straightens his back and grimaces, bringing a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Fuck,” he mutters under his breath.

You watch him in outrage. His reluctance to engage on account of your brother is no longer cute. You attempt to compose yourself, to hide the pain your face might otherwise betray. You rise from the couch in silence and begin to walk away.

“No” – Jake starts, catching you by the arm before you’ve even cleared the coffee table – “that’s not what I meant. I’m sorry.”

You yank your arm out of his grasp, but he just takes your waist instead. “Let go!” you shout, twisting away, and Jake immediately releases you, throwing his hands up in the air.

“Wait,” he pleads desperately.

“Wait for what?” you yell. “For you to finish freaking out?”

Jake looks like he might be on the verge of tears. “I’m sorry,” he repeats.

“I wasn’t looking for you to say it back,” you declare. “But I admit that I was hoping for a more considerate acknowledgement.”

Jake takes a step toward you. “Can I touch you again?” he asks, holding his hands about six inches away from either of your arms.

“No,” you respond stubbornly, not looking him in the eye.

Jake sighs, bringing his hands up to his eyes and sliding them bleakly down his face. “Do you really think I would have ever done this if I wasn’t already in love with you?”

You glance up at him, still frowning. “Done what?” you ask quietly.

Jake furrows his eyebrows. “Can I please touch you?”

You press your lips together to keep them from quivering and nod your head.

Jake put his palms on either side of your face and takes another step toward you so that he could rest his forehead over yours. “I’m sorry I’m an idiot,” he says.

You let out a shallow sigh, wondering if perhaps you’ve overreacted. “You don’t have to apologize for being yourself,” you respond glumly.

Jake snorts. “Gee, thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” you say, feeling your mouth stretch into a tiny smile despite your irritation.

Jake brushes his thumbs across your cheeks. “I loved you before I even realized I liked you.”

You meet his gaze skeptically. “That seems improbable.”

Jake grins. “Ever the romantic.”

You roll your eyes as his hands fall to your shoulders.

You gaze up at him, justifiably speechless. The fact that he didn’t make a move until he was absolutely certain sets your heart aflutter. You squeeze yourself into him and mutter sheepishly, “So, you love me back, then?”

Jake chuckles and wraps his arms around you tightly. “You’re unbelievable,” he says. “Of course I fucking love you back.”

Hangman Tag List:

A/N: The rest of the list will be in the comments. As always, let me know if you don't want to be tagged anymore.

@atarmychick007

@callsign-sunshine

@shanimallina87

@wkndwlff

@thefandomimagines

@lunamoonbby

@xoxabs88xox

@desert-fern

@averyhotchner

@hiireadstuff

@teacupsandtopgun

@lilyevanswhore

@sarcasm-n-insomnia

@avengers-fixation

@malindacath

@maddievevo

@widemiffyhappy

@dempy

@djs8891

@pono-pura-vida

@phoenix1388

@teaminator

@rascallyrascals

@kmc1989

@drakelover78

@hangmanscoming

@seitmai

@sky2nd

@mrseans90

@wretchedmo

@trashlandqueen

@dylanodaddie

@fandom-princess-forevermore

@chewymoustachio

@itsizzythebell

@marvelshoney

@sarcastic-sourwolf

@extremelyexhaustedpigeon

@goldtrashbag

@livthelazywriter

@uhmellamoanna

@evansqueen54

@localfluffsupplier

@xsecretsirenx

@jtheteenagewitch

@just-a-blue-nerd

@unattainablesillygoose

@erinnn-brry

@thedonswife13

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

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ladykailitha · 3 days ago

Text

Of Butterflies and Backstrokes Part 11

Hey guys! We're back!! It is feeling like this story is almost done, but every time I finish a chapter I go "This has two more chapters in it, I'm almost done!" and I've done that for the last three chapters. So I have given up trying to figure out when it's going to end. Hopefully the answer is sometime before the next Olympics.

In this we have a silly Eddie, Steve and Max are sneaky, and Max and Eddie have their first competition.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10

Steve continued to have good days and bad days, but always Eddie and Robin were there to help him work through the bad. And then he would spill it all out to Dr. Hughes.

Today he had been able to wade out to Max in the main pool to correct her foot work. The water had come up to his chest, just like it did in the kiddie pool.

“All right,” Steve said gently. “I’m going to touch your leg. If you feel uncomfortable in anyway, I’ll have Robin do it instead, okay?”

Max thought about it for a moment. “But just my leg right?”

“Just your ankle even,” he assured her. “Ready?”

Max waded over to the side of the pool and started kicking her feet to level out her body. Steve gently grabbed her ankle and repositioned her foot so it was more like an extension of her leg.

“Whoa!”

“That’s right,” he said, “now keep it like that.”

Robin and Eddie who had been working in the endless pool came back to the main pool just as Steve was pulling his shirt back on.

Eddie eyed the wet swim trunks and the happily kicking Max and a sly smile spread over his face. “Stevie... you wouldn’t have happened to have gotten into the pool with Max would you have?”

Steve batted his eyelashes innocently. “Who me?” He turned to Max. “Did you see me get into the pool?”

“Nope!”

Eddie knelt on the side of the pool and said, “I’ll buy you ice cream for the next month if you tell me if he got in the pool.”

Robin sneaked up behind him and with Max’s help pulled him into the water as gently as they could, as to not trigger Steve.

It must have worked because when they all came up for air, Steve was doubled over with laughter.

“Absolute menaces the lot of you,” he said once he caught his breath. “I got the competition schedule for next week. Max is in beginner and Eddie in intermediate. I tried to argue for higher, but they because you’ve been out for so long, they want you in there first to see if you have room to grow.”

Eddie wiped the water off of his face. “That’s fair. I don’t think I’m ready for higher yet anyway.”

Steve gave him a fond look. “And then that’s what we’ll do. If you don’t feel comfortable competing at above intermediate yet, then I won’t force you. I just worry they’ll accuse of you of deliberately choosing lower to spank fifteen and sixteen year olds.”

Eddie blinked at him for a moment.

“Oh.”

He went to go shove his hair in front of his face, but it was all tucked away in his cap, so he started to sink into the water.

Steve, Robin, and Max all watched as he held his breath under water.

“So how long do you think he can hold his breath?” Max asked after about a minute. “Because I think cell death happens after three minutes.”

“Eh...” Robin said waving her hand back and forth, “about four to five, actually.”

Just then Eddie burst through the water, gasping for air. He wiped the water away and looked around. “So is anyone going to be nice and completely forget that happened?”

All three of them shared glances with each other and then said together, “No.”

Eddie buried his head in his hands. He slunk off to his lane with a sigh. “Woe! Woe is me! For I have been forsaken by my own team. Woe!”

Steve and Max shared a glance.

“Is he always this dramatic?” Max asked, eyeing Eddie splashing about and moaning about his fate or some shit.

Robin scoffed as she pulled herself out of the pool and rotated to sit on its edge. “This is tame for him, if I’m being honest.”

Eddie stopped his sputtering and turned to her quickly. “I? I am dramatic?” Then he made a sweeping bow, nearly face planting into the water. “Why thank you!”

Everyone giggled but Max and Eddie got back into their lanes and started practicing again. Robin got up and went to go stand by Steve.

“I’m glad you were able to help Max on your own,” she murmured. “But just remember, if you can’t, call and I’ll coming running, okay?”

“Okay.”

It was their first swim meet and Robin wasn’t sure who was more nervous, Max and Eddie or Steve.

She was sure that that pen lid would be a mangled, tangled up mess by the time this was over with.

She looked around the room, spotting a few friends, the Hell Squad from their own facility, and one very unfriendly face indeed.

Billy Hargrove.

Billy Hargrove was a swimmer from California and he thought living on the coast instantly made you a better swimmer. He even had that bit of surfer boy charm. You’d expect this blond haired, blued eyed, tan Adonis to start singing Beach Boys or some shit, but no.

Billy Hargrove was an ass. And he hated all the comparisons between him and Steve at the last Olympics. Dude went on to barely win bronze in two of five events and not medal in any of the others.

Today he was wearing a red and gold coach’s jacket with HARGROVE emblazoned on the back with two blonds standing next him as he talked them in low voices. One was a girl with strawberry blonde hair, green eyes, and bright smile. The other was a guy that looked about the same age as the girl. He looked like he had walked out the pages of Good Christians R Us. Hair neatly cut, blue eyes, chiseled jaw and washboard abs.

Robin hated them both on sight.

She was about to steer Steve away from all that when Billy looked up immediately clocked Steve, who promptly stiffened.

Max and Eddie who were talking to him noticed the sudden change in Steve’s demeanor. And unlike the locker room with Andy, Eddie could tell that this was a different breed of shark coming their way.

“Stevie...” Billy greeted. “When I saw the name Harrington I was wondering if that was you and then here you are. Such a pleasant surprise.”

Robin and Steve shared a bitchy glance. “Pleasant isn’t the word I would use,” Steve scoffed.

“You actually getting in the water, Harrington, or are you going to bitch out again?” Billy went on as if Steve hadn’t said a word.

Steve seethed. Billy had been present the first time he tried to get into the pool after his accident and started screaming.

“Don’t worry, darlin’,” Eddie said with a grin, “Stevie here doesn’t need to get in the water to beat you. He has me.”

Billy looked him up and down and he looked impressed for all of two seconds before he scoffed. “I didn’t think they allowed boys with such pretty curls,” he said tugging on one of the strands. Eddie swatted his hand away. “Maybe you should be on the girls’ team.”

“Last time I checked,” Eddie huffed, “I have the balls for the men’s team. Can’t say the same for the asshole who came up and harassed a guy that had his Olympic dreams washed away because of faulty equipment that left him traumatized and hurt for life, but still loves to swim so much that he would rather coach then to walk away forever.”

Billy’s face twisted in rage and he opened his mouth to reply when the whistle sounded. He jabbed a finger in Eddie’s face. “We’re not done.”

He walked off and suddenly all the tension built up in Steve escaped like a deflated balloon.

“That guy is a dick,” Max hissed. “My mom used to date a guy just like him out in Cali. Wouldn’t surprise me if they were related.”

That made Steve laugh. “I’ll beat him where I’ve always beaten him, in the water. Now come on, it’s time for you two to hit the showers. The beginners are about to start. You’re in the third heat, Max, first podium.”

She nodded and her and Eddie took off their team shirts and hit the showers. Steve looked over at Billy and smirked. Billy was watching every inch of Eddie’s body as he padded over to the showers that were next to the pool.

Robin handed him his bobby pins and he deftly put his hair under the cap, making it as sleek as any of the other male contestants.

The first set of eight girls lined up and then they were off with the shot of the starting gun. Steve watched, looking out for the girls that would be Max’s competition. So far none of the girls showed real promise and that included the girl who won.

The next heat was the same. None of the other girls had the same spark Max did. He looked up to the stands where the families were supposed to there to cheer them on. Robin’s parents were there. Eddie’s uncle, too. Of course Steve’s parents wouldn’t be there. He hadn’t talked them in so long.

He didn’t see the woman that would come to pick up Max and it made Steve squirm a bit. Then just before Max’s heat, he saw her come rushing in. Her hair was wild as if she had been running and she looked out of breath. She leaned over to whisper something to Wayne. Wayne shook his head and pointed to where Max was getting ready to get up on her podium.

Steve went over to her and pointed up at the stands.

Max’s eyes lit up and she waved at her mom. Her mom waved back. Max got up on her podium and put her goggles in place over her eyes. Steve stepped back and gave the judge with the gun a nod, showing that he had moved back far enough. Then the gun went off.

Max easily kept pace with the other girls and managed to squeak out winning by an arms length, touching her pad first.

She pulled off her goggles and looked at her time. She had clearly won. She started jumping and shrieking in the water. She pulled herself out and ran up to give Steve the biggest hug.

“I told you, you could do it,” Steve murmured into her cap.

“Yeah, yeah,” she huffed. “Nerd.”

They went through the next few heats and Max came in third overall in the girls division. Which considering it was her first meet, was very impressive.

Then it was time for the intermediate and as they watched the girls, Eddie began bouncing up and down to warm up his muscles.

“You ready to blow these people out of the water?” Steve asked with a grin. “I gave the organizers one last chance to put you in masters, but they wouldn’t do it.”

Eddie chuckled. “I don’t have the confidence you do in me, but hell yeah, I’m ready.”

Steve slapped him on the shoulder and watched as Eddie got up to the podium. He pulled the goggles over his eyes and turned away from the water.

This is what he loved most of all about the backstroke. Not facing the water or seeing his competitors out of the corners of his eyes. It was just him and waiting for the sound of the gun.

BANG!

And then he was arching backwards into the water, as smooth as silk. His arms and body worked with the water, slicing through like a hot knife through butter. He could hear the splashing of the other competitors but they all seemed so distant to himself. Not that they were that far away. Only that he felt on whole other realm then they were.

He touched the pad and peeled off his googles to look up at the clock.

He was in first place.

He looked up at the stands to see Mrs. Mayfield and Uncle Wayne on their feet and cheering for him. He raised his fist and they waved back excitedly.

It came as no surprise that he won best overall.

He was standing next to Steve celebrating with his team, when the judges came up to them.

“We would like to talk to you about moving up to the masters,” the first judge said with a grimace.

Eddie and Steve shared a knowing grin.

“I think that could be arranged,” Steve said, smug. The ‘I told you so’ lingering in the humid air of the pool.

Tag List: CLOSED

1- @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog @gloomysoup

2- @gregre369 @a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji @eriquin

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

9- @chameleonhair @sadisticaltarts @dreamercec @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @mac-attack19

10- @aol19 @tartarusknight @morallyundefined

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #olympic steddie #olympic swimmer au

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songbird-and-her-fos · 18 hours ago

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Dance Lessons

Emmrich/F!Rook

Emmrich likes to indulge in the finer arts, including dance, and wants to share this with Rook. Sadly, Rook has little confidence in her dancing abilities

A quiet day at the Lighthouse. Lyrei “Rook” Ingellvar didn’t know what drew her to the small hidden room with the big piano, but she found herself there nonetheless. There were so many more enjoyable things she could spend her time with, she told herself, so why come here? Perhaps it was the instrument itself that attracted her to this seldom visited corner of the Lighthouse; Rook loved music, though she had never had the opportunity to learn to play. So her fingers only lightly grazed the ivories, never truly pressing any of them hard enough to produce a sound.

She missed music. Be it the lengthy elegies written for funerals back in Nevarra or lively drinking songs filling the air of taverns; she hadn’t heard any of that in way too long a time.

Hadn’t Bellara discovered an ancient Elven music box not too long ago? Just as Rook resolved to ask about it soon, someone entered the room.

“So this is where you’ve been hiding, dearest. I’ve been looking for you.”

She turned around, her face lighting up with a smile. “Emmrich.”

He held up the artifact in his hands. “I asked Bellara if she would let us borrow her music box; there’s something I want us to try with it.” He placed it on a nearby table. “I had at first considered trying to teach Manfred how to play the piano for us; he was very interested, but I think he needs to focus on his magic training for the time being.”

“Now you’re making me curious”, Rook said cheerfully. “Don’t keep me in suspense like that!”

“My darling, have you ever tried dancing?”

Rook bit her lip. “I haven’t. I’m not sure I would be any good at it, to be honest.”

Emmrich stretched out his arms to pull her against him. “Nonsense. I see how you move in battle; you are a born dancer if I’ve ever seen one.”

Her eyes flitted about the room, for the first time trying to look at anything but him. “I don’t want to embarrass myself; especially not in front of you.”

Emmrich leaned forward and kissed her. “I would never judge you, you know that. Come, we'll start with a simple waltz. Without music, so you can get a feeling for the steps first.”

Rook hesitated for a moment, but found herself unable to say no to him. Not when he was so excited at the prospect of dancing with her. “...Okay, but I take no responsibility for any damage done to your toes.”

“Marvelous! It's easy, really.” He placed one hand on her waist and took hers with the other. “Start by taking a step forward with your left foot, then a sideways step with your right foot…”

This “simple waltz” felt anything but simple at first. She executed the steps just as Emmrich instructed, but kept losing the rhythm and felt her face heat up every time she stumbled. Just when she was about to ask if it was time to stop, Emmrich paused.

“Rook, my dearest, you are way too stiff. Relax. Don’t worry too much about executing every step perfectly. Just focus on me.”

Rook took another deep breath. “Focus on you. Okay. I can do that.” She concentrated on his eyes, gentle and loving as ever. No trace of judgement or annoyance. He moved, and she followed, her mind easing to a pleasant emptiness that left space for the two of them, and nothing else. She barely noticed when his hand slightly moved and the music box began playing. It was an ancient Elven song, a far cry from modern ballroom music, but it still flowed into their movements like a guiding breeze. That was her entire world in this moment; music and movement… and Emmrich, smiling at her as if she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

“I knew you could do it.” Delight lit up his eyes.

“What can I say? I have an excellent teacher.”

Step by step, they twirled through the room, allowing themselves to get lost in the moment. One, two, three…

Emmrich’s hoarse chuckle slightly pulled her from her thoughts. “You are absolutely beautiful. I can’t believe how lucky I am to have you.”

The corners of her mouth twitched upwards. “Says the stunning man in front of me.”

He laughed, and her heart did a little flip.

The song slowly fizzled out, and with a final spin, Emmrich, kissed her and then rested his forehead against hers. “I love you.”

“And I love you. And… thank you for teaching me how to dance. Maybe we can do this more often?”

“Whenever you like, my dearest.”

#dragon age veilguard #dragon age veilguard spoilers #veilguard spoilers #emmrich volkarin #emmrich x rook #fluff #my writing #I'm on a roll with writing lately

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heavysighing-dreamyeyes · 11 hours ago

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I'm in love with this series!! Jay Todd, my beloved. Just, ah, the world building is so good, and the FEELINGS! Don't even get me started on the smut cause I was fr fanning my face. I talk about my fav parts below the cut!

Plsss, I'm swooning already. Love that she doesn't need the helmet to get shit done.

Jay goes to take the seat next to you but shoulder slams into a body. She turns and raises a single disdainful eyebrow that she knows for a fact has made grown men cower before. “You’re in my seat,” she says, low and bored.

Ah, I'm grinning! You can fr feel her confidence through the screen

Jay very conspicuously wipes the front of her leather jacket with a bar napkin. Looks him up and down and smirks. “I think your conversation was over 30 seconds after you opened your mouth. I bet a lot of things are over in 30 seconds with you,” she tells him coolly.

OOOHHHH!! Get him!! It's over for me. She has my heart and I'm buying her anything she wants

You grow more flustered at that and Jay rolls her eyes at Cala’s interfering. She lays a hand on your bare forearm to get you to stop tearing the napkin in your hands to shreds. “You’re not in any trouble honey,” she says, voice low and soothing.

!!! I've got heart eyes for this fr

Jay’s just so goddamned tempted to press her thumb into the hollow underneath your eyes, see if that’s enough to make the gathering tears of relief spill over. Wants to see your puffy bitten lips wrapped around her fingers rather than your straw. Time just gets away from under you two, Jay too enthralled with the way your hands move as you tell a story, you too drunk under her attention to bother looking at the time.

No notes. I love when two people are equally enthralled with each other

And Jay, Jay doesn’t really have a phone besides a collection of burners but for you she’ll keep one on her. “Could always use another friend,” she says slowly, hands her phone over to you anyway.

aw that's sweet but also only burners my girl? I worry for her lots

Your ensuing enthusiasm sets to right the last of her worries that you’d only offered out of obligation and she sets about monopolizing as much of your free time as she can get away with. Takes you to the movies, to museums, to lunch. Lends you her sweater, her umbrella, her helmet. Actually thinks about buying a second one with how much use you’re getting out of hers.

I've decided that they're married, your honor. Just, ah, I love how quickly they entwine into each other lives! Just finding your person and knowing you want to be with them all the time, do everything and anything with them.

How she’s come with the image of your tear-stained face, fingers buried in her cunt. It’s fine! Jay’s fine. Eventually she’ll learn to stop lusting over her darling best friend who looks up at Jay with such sweet trusting eyes, unaware of what an awful lecher she is.

Oh, it's so fine. They're absolutely just friends and there isn't anything more to it at all and they definitely don't see each other anything but platonic besties

“Oh what’s this, a party?” you ask, hair falling down the nape of your neck in a way that has Jay itching to brush it aside and kiss your spine.

I mean, I'd let her

“You hate the Jimmy Choos,” Jay reminds you. “Always complain they pinch your feet.” “Duh,” you tell her, pushing yourself up. “But they make my legs look like sex so I’m wearing them.” Jay has to swallow a couple of times at that, lost in the last time you’d worn them out clubbing and dragged her with you. Your legs had looked like sex, miles of long yummy skin only ending at your barely there mini dress.

AHH, I'm losing it over this interaction!! and all of it done in each others arms!! INSANE!! It really shows how comfortable they are with each other. I just adore friends to lovers

Your fingers come to her throat and slowly undo the buttons there until only a single button or two above her waistcoat remains done up. Satisfied with your work, you spread the material flat under your palms, right over the swell of Jay’s breasts. “I think you look really nice just like this,” you confess to her. Jay can barely breathe as she says “Fuck the tie, never liked ‘em anyway.” Your slow smile is worth it.

PLEASE! I'm drooling. Reader is better than me cause I would not have made it out of her apartment

Jay is secretly, privately glad that you don’t notice Dick’s eyes lighting up with interest in you as you come in to view. She’s very careful to stamp that light out with a scowl and pantomiming slitting his throat. He’s all charm and smiles when he’s introduced to you though Jay still stomps on his toes for good measure.

I actually love Jay's and Dick's sibling antics

“You just told Mr. Texas Oil Man that you’re here on a date,” Jay says, voice tight and frustrated at having to spell this out for you. “And we–” she gestures sharply at the two of you “–are not on a date.” Your face falls, voice thin and hurt. “We’re not?” you ask softly.

Misunderstanding of century!! But I am eating it up!!! Angst is my kryptonite

owwww. The heartbreak. The humiliation. I wanna sink my teeth into it

“Yeah, Jerry,” Jay says, not sure where this is going. “Fuck that guy.” “Gerry short for Geraldine!” you practically howl. “I’ve been practically throwing myself at you ever since, I thought you were just being nice and not saying anything to hurt my feelings,” you yell at her. “I thought– I thought you were finally giving me a chance tonight.” You pant, chest heaving as you reveal this more vulnerable truth.

GERRY! just, oww!! All of this is ow. Fr the pain reads so real and I'm devouring every line

And fuck. Jay’s not about to let the best thing that ever walked into her life just walk right back out. Not without a fight. Eating up the distance with her longer legs, she reaches out and gently clasps your wrist. Turns you around and pins you the door by it, forces you to look up at her with wide teary eyes.

Swooning. This angst is so sick and twisted (but in a good way, I swear)

“Why don’t you tell me what you were hopin’ for with your one big chance, tell me how tonight was supposed to go.” Jay nuzzles the side of your cheek, inhales the sweat and desperation rolling off your skin.

CRUEL and UNUSUAL. I'll take fifteen

Swiftly Jay drops to her knees, so fast she barely recognizes the pain of it. Hooks your leg over her shoulder and starts rucking up your devastating dress to expose your panties. Moaning you scrabble at the door, her hair, anything to keep you upright and balanced. “These,” she snarls, then licks a fat stripe across the thin fabric of your black lace panties. “I’ve been dreaming of getting my hands on them since I first saw them.” You shiver, bury your hands into her thick hair for balance.

Plssss, chekhov's gun but it's the underwear I knew were gonna come back up. I looove it. And Jay being just as desperate has me feral!!

Spells her own name against your clit, brands her claim on you into your flesh as you wobble and whimper. Slick runs down her face as she grinds her nose into you.

hehe, The way I am giggling and twirling my hair

Jay bites down at the sensitive inner skin of your thigh and suddenly has to drink down the slick of your second orgasm. So her baby girl likes a little pain with her pleasure, she’ll have to remember that for next time.

I think I forgot how to blink reading this. my jaws on the ground

Pulls your skirt back down to hide the utter wreckage she’s made of your panties. Jay scrubs at her chin with her hand, then licks down all the sweet remaining slick she finds there. Grins felinely as you moan at the sight.

!! They're nasty and I love them for it

“I’m taking you home and I’m fucking you until either I pass out or the sun comes up.” “Okay,” you say, voice just verging on a whine. “That sounds better, actually.”

eee I'm obsessed with this!! The way I want to sink my nails into it and never let go. I looove they're dynamic fr. Sunnie you're actually feeding the Fem!Jason enjoyers soooo good 🥰💙

A Fever You Can’t Sweat Out

Part 1: Unexpected Faces in Familiar Places

fem!jason todd x fem!reader summary: jay makes a new friend, now if only she could be something more... tags: sexual harrassment, threats of violence, idiots in love, flirting, swearing, sexual tension, semi-public sex, cunnilingus, fingering rated explicit (mdni) | wc: 4.7k a/n: enjoy! i've been having a really shitty week (even before the election) so i scrapped my original intention to only post once it was fully written and decided to just share this with you all

Jay Todd has the shittiest day to cap off the shittiest week in what feels like forever. Her ribs ache from a hit on Monday that’s still not fully right and she spent most of the day chasing down one of her accountants that had the sheer fucking nerve to try and steal from under her nose. Her knuckles are bloody, she’s on the verge of a stress headache, and all she wants is to drink her goddamn drink in peace. Apparently that’s too much to ask for because she gets a call from Cala down at one of her bars about out of towners harassing the guests and now that just won’t do at all.

Jay bursts into the bar, door hitting the wall with a crash, and oh fuck she forgot her helmet at home so she’s gonna have to do this as Jay, without the weight of the Hood’s legend behind her. Taking a deep breath she squares her shoulders and swaggers in. Zeroes in on the two chucklefucks have that cornered a poor girl sitting at the bar. Notes the way she’s hunched over and pulling down the hem of her skirt to hide her skin from lecherous eyes. Cala buzzes around the scene trying to divert their attention away from poor little miss unlucky but it doesn’t work.

“–m not alone,” Jay hears you say as she strides towards the bar. “I’m waiting on a friend.”

“That so,” the taller of the two men leer. “Well she can just join us too. Plenty of room for more.” The shorter man makes a crude gesture at his crotch and Jay sees red.

“There you are!” She calls out, shoulders past the men without even acknowledging their presence. “Sorry I’m late, traffic was a real bitch. Did you already order our drinks yet?” You look up at Jay with gratitude and something suspiciously like tears shining in your eyes. Fuck. You’re pretty.

“No I– I didn’t know if you were planning on driving so I just waited,” you play along.

Jay goes to take the seat next to you but shoulder slams into a body. She turns and raises a single disdainful eyebrow that she knows for a fact has made grown men cower before.

“You’re in my seat,” she says, low and bored. The man’s face starts to go a horrible shade of red that clashes terribly with his hair.

“So you think you can just butt into a private conversation, bitch?” He snarls, spittle flying.

Jay very conspicuously wipes the front of her leather jacket with a bar napkin. Looks him up and down and smirks.

“I think your conversation was over 30 seconds after you opened your mouth. I bet a lot of things are over in 30 seconds with you,” she tells him coolly.

He opens his mouth to respond, vein pulsing in his forehead but the cock of a shotgun stops him. Cala, blessed Cala, had finally had the distraction she needed to grab the shot gun from under the bar and she is using it to maximum effect.

“Out!” She thunders, waving the shotgun in the men’s faces. “Out and don’t you ever come back. This is one of the Hood’s bars, we’re under her protection and there’s gonna be hell to pay for this.”

Enraged the larger one goes to yell back but the shorter one grabs at his shoulder. Whispers at him to look around at all the hostile faces, the other regulars getting to their feet and cracking their knuckles. Tails between their legs the two nuisances scamper out.

Jay nods at Cala and she calls out “Next round’s on the house!” to the cheers of the room.

Job taken care of, Jay goes to leave when a hand around her wrist, just catching her under the hem of her jacket, freezes her in place.

“Wait!” you call. She turns to look at you properly, the wobble of your lip and the shortness of your skirt from where you’re no longer tugging it down. “Please? I just– I’m worried they’ll be waiting outside for me. I was supposed to meet a date here but they bailed on me and now I have to wait for the next bus to come. Would you stay with me for a bit? Please? I’ll– I’ll buy you a drink for the inconvenience.” And well, Jay always was a sucker for a damsel in distress.

“Sure,” she says, slinging herself lazily back into the bar chair. “It’s no inconvenience but I’ll take that drink. Whoever he is, he’s gotta be mad for standing a pretty girl like you up.”

“Oh um,” you fluster at her words. “Thanks?”

Cala sets down Jay’s usual order for when she’s driving in front of her and refills your drink. Waves off your fumbling with your wallet with a “It’s on the house, chérie. Our apology for the bad night. Besides,” she nods at Jay “the Boss Lady would not let you pay if you tried.”

You grow more flustered at that and Jay rolls her eyes at Cala’s interfering. She lays a hand on your bare forearm to get you to stop tearing the napkin in your hands to shreds.

“You’re not in any trouble honey,” she says, voice low and soothing. “Just needed a little help, that’s all. Now my name’s Jay and I own this little establishment. Why don’t you tell me a little something about yourself too?”

You stutter and start through your own self-introduction, mascara long eyelashes fluttering at all the attention. Jay’s just so goddamned tempted to press her thumb into the hollow underneath your eyes, see if that’s enough to make the gathering tears of relief spill over. Wants to see your puffy bitten lips wrapped around her fingers rather than your straw. Getting you to talk about yourself seems to work though, familiar territory slowly evening you out. You’re surprisingly witty when you’re not flustered, someone fun to have a conversation over beer with. Time just gets away from under you two, Jay too enthralled with the way your hands move as you tell a story, you too drunk under her attention to bother looking at the time.

A stray notification catches your attention, interrupts your story about how this bar wasn’t even in your bottom five. You roll your eyes at the sender name.

“Jerry,” you answer Jay’s inquisitive look. “Apologizing for standing me up, for all the good that’ll do.” With a flourish you tap at your screen, smile and say “Blocked.”

Jay can feel the corners of her eyes crinkle up in return, simple joy and approval for you cutting the trash out of your life. Not that she’s really entitled to an opinion on it. Your smile lasts a half second longer before suddenly descending into panicking, fumbling out your phone and chanting no no no under your breath.

“I missed the last bus,” you breathe out, eyes wide. Jay’s brain stutters at that, there’s no way you’ve been talking together for four hours. Cala catches her eye and jerks her head up at the big clock hanging over the bar. Fuck. It really has been four hours.

Jay knocks back the last of her beer and stands, extends a hand out to you to help you hop off the bar stool that’s just the wrong side of too tall. Even in your heels Jay’s still got quite a few inches on you.

“C’mon,” she says. “It’s my fault you were out so late, I’ll give you a ride home.”

She leads you outside to where her bike is parked, your palm still in hers.

“I don’t have an extra helmet so you just take mine okay?” She says, putting it on you.

“We’re– we’re going on that?” you squeak out, surprise rendering you docile.

“Yep,” she answers, already straddling the bike, thighs flexing. “Hop on and hold on tight.”

Jay more feels than hears your scream as she revs the engine and takes off, corners maybe just a little too fast to be anything other than showing off. Too soon she pulls up at your front door and already she mourns the feeling of your arms wrapped around her middle. She gives you a hand to help you off the bike again and nearly buckles at the brief glimpse of the black unlined lace panties she sees under your skirt as you swing your leg over the bike. The two of you stand there facing each other, moment stretching out until a car backfires a few blocks over.

“Well, I guess I should get going, “ Jay tells you reluctantly.

“I’ve got work in the morning,” you respond, still not moving. “Wait! D’you want my number or something so we can do this again? Not the first bit obviously, but maybe drinks? Maybe coffee next time?”

Jay calls first, asks about coffee with too much casualness in her voice. Your ensuing enthusiasm sets to right the last of her worries that you’d only offered out of obligation and she sets about monopolizing as much of your free time as she can get away with. Takes you to the movies, to museums, to lunch. Lends you her sweater, her umbrella, her helmet. Actually thinks about buying a second one with how much use you’re getting out of hers. Bitches with you about assholes at work – not that she gives you the full story – and bemoaning the state of customer affairs. Makes you dinner at her apartment and makes a spot for herself on your couch. Worms her way into every corner of your life without regret because you’d tell her if her presence was unwanted. Right?

Leave it to Jay to come back from the dead and still fall in love with a straight girl. Dick teases her about how far she’s willing to bend over backwards for ‘just a friend’ and Jay has to show her teeth and snap back that at least she has some. Has to cover up for the fact that her sanity is hanging by a goddamn thread thinner than that single string that had tied the open sides of your top together that one afternoon, revealing bare skin and the hint of a breast if you leaned just right. The way she almost walked into a wall when she realized you weren’t wearing a bra the first time she came over to your place. How she’s come with the image of your tear-stained face, fingers buried in her cunt. It’s fine! Jay’s fine. Eventually she’ll learn to stop lusting over her darling best friend who looks up at Jay with such sweet trusting eyes, unaware of what an awful lecher she is.

A gala invitation has Jay wishing she could shoot lasers with her eyes and incinerate it. Her eye twitches with annoyance and you snatch it up out of her hands before she can stop you.

“Oh what’s this, a party?” you ask, hair falling down the nape of your neck in a way that has Jay itching to brush it aside and kiss your spine.

“A stupid one,” she answers, not really paying attention.

“But you’ll have to get all dressed up for it! Please, please can I come over and watch you get ready? You never get dressed up,” you pout.

Even with your whining and pouting, Jay can’t help but think she’d still have a better time at the gala with you by her side to distract her from pointed glances and whispers. She sighs. Wait.

“There’s a plus one on that invite,” she tells you nonchalantly, studying your face in her peripheral vision. “You could come if you want, get all dressed up too.”

You stiffen at the question. “You really mean it?” you whisper, hardly daring to breathe.

“Course, but only if you want to,” she offers. You squeal, clutch the envelope to your chest and tackle her.

“It’s short so I’ll probably have to rent a dress and oooh I need to think about makeup, maybe a bold lip? Oh! And I can have another excuse to wear the Jimmy Choos...” you babble in her arms.

“You hate the Jimmy Choos,” Jay reminds you. “Always complain they pinch your feet.”

“Duh,” you tell her, pushing yourself up. “But they make my legs look like sex so I’m wearing them.” Jay has to swallow a couple of times at that, lost in the last time you’d worn them out clubbing and dragged her with you. Your legs had looked like sex, miles of long yummy skin only ending at your barely there mini dress. You prance around the room pulling down dishes for dinner and Jay sighs, melts back into the couch cushions as she listens to you chatter a mile a minute about how excited you are.

Jay’s really, really regretting her impulsivity by the time the gala rolls around a few days later. In all her excitement about not going alone for once, she’d forgotten that this meant she’d be going with you. With you, all dolled up and mouth-wateringly gorgeous.

You knock at her door earlier than she’d expected from you when a fancy event is involved and has to do her very best not to drop her jaw on the floor. Gorgeous green silk pools around your breasts in a daring cowl neck, the fabric clinging to your curves, draped to exaggerate them. Skims the plush sides of your hips before falling straight to the floor, a daring slit revealing the warm bare skin of your leg ending in those heaven sent Jimmy Choos. Jay stares, knows she stares for a beat too long but there is quite literally no force on earth that could tear her away. You start to squirm under her attention, still standing half in her doorway.

“That bad, is it?” You laugh self consciously, start to cover your cleavage with your hands. “I knew it was too much.”

“No, no it’s just enough,” she rasps, standing back to let you in. You brush past her so close she can smell your perfume, can tell you’d broken out your special occasions scent in the nice glass bottle. “I just need to fix my tie and do my hair and then we can go.”

“Do you need the tie?” You hum, stepping into her space. Grabbing a hold of one of the loose ends, you tug it out from where it’s tucked under her collar and drape it over the couch. Your fingers come to her throat and slowly undo the buttons there until only a single button or two above her waistcoat remains done up. Satisfied with your work, you spread the material flat under your palms, right over the swell of Jay’s breasts. “I think you look really nice just like this,” you confess to her.

Jay can barely breathe as she says “Fuck the tie, never liked ‘em anyway.” Your slow smile is worth it.

“Can I do your hair too?” You ask shyly.

“Don’t see why not, I was just going to do a ponytail,” Jay shrugs. Delighted you push her down onto the couch and start pulling bobby pins out of your purse. “Wait did you plan this?” She asks.

“A girl should always be prepared for the best outcome,” you tell her primly as you stand behind her and finger comb her riotous hair.

Quickly you separate out a deep side part and Jay memorizes the feeling of your hands in her hair. Hands twisting and pinning, you’re done in only a few minutes, handing her the little mirror out of your clutch to admire your work. Softly Jay touches your work, the way you’ve slicked back one side of her hair and made the waving curly mess look artistic and purposeful.

“Thank you,” she says, making eye contact with you in the mirror. She means it, means it for more than just fixing her hair but for everything else you’ve done since stumbling into her bar and her life all those months ago.

“It’s nothing,” you tell her, hands suddenly occupied with the mechanism of your purse. “We should probably get going, right?”

Jay drives the two of you to the venue in a really nice car you’ve never seen before. She waves away your questions with a tight, “My dad won’t even notice it’s missing.” She parks at the end of the red carpet and the doors haven’t even opened yet but you can already see the camera lights flashing. You look at her, suddenly nervous because you’d vastly underestimated how important this event was. She turns to you and smiles, grips your hand over the car console.

“Hey,” she says, all softness. “Just stick with me and you’ll be fine. I’ll head off the vultures, you just hold onto me and enjoy the canapes, okay?”

You nod, and then suddenly she’s opening up your door, hand extended to help you out. The lights are blinding, flashing so fast the afterburn never gets any time to dissipate. Pasting on a smile you cling to Jay’s strong arm, rock solid even under all her suit layers. Paps shout and scream at you to look their way and you can barely hear them over one another.

Eventually the two of you make it through the front doors of the hotel and you gasp like you’ve been drowning. Rubbing your shoulders Jay moves to cover you, cuts off the private moment from prying eyes that seek and skitter.

“Is it always like that?” You gasp. Fighting to regain your balance.

“Unfortunately,” she says with a rueful smile. “But that’s the worst of it over, now we can really enjoy the night.” Gallantly she offers you her arm and you accept it gratefully, her elbow brushing up against the swell of your breast as you walk.

She introduces you to the night’s hosts – her family – with a whispered apology in your ear. Jay is secretly, privately glad that you don’t notice Dick’s eyes lighting up with interest in you as you come in to view. She’s very careful to stamp that light out with a scowl and pantomiming slitting his throat. He’s all charm and smiles when he’s introduced to you though Jay still stomps on his toes for good measure. She doesn’t know what possesses her to, but she wraps a proprietary arm around the small of your back as she steers you around the room. Helps you to crystal flutes of champagne that make your nose twitch at the carbonation and warns you off the most disgusting canapes.

Jay has just chased down the waiter carrying the mushroom and cheese quiche bites you’d fast declared your favourite when the two of you get roped into a very stilted conversation with some of the fat cats the Waynes are currently trying to drain dry, for charitable reasons of course. She’s tuned out the conversation while she piles all the best looking bites onto a plate for you, horrifically uninterested in whatever Mr. Harold J. Carson, esquire had to say about the Texan economy. She cottons on to something being wrong as your hands tense up around her arm and your laugh gets ever more brittle.

“That’s a very kind offer Mr. Carson–”

“Harold, please,” the great mustached walrus harumphs.

“–Mr. Carson,” you bravely soldier on. “But I’m here on a date and I hope you’re not implying that I’m the type of woman to two-time someone.”

He turns an ugly shade of puce and sputters at the implication, society matrons chuckling behind their glasses at his terrible blunder. Sensing an opportunity, Jay grabs you by the arm and starts leading you away.

“I do think our presence is needed by my family elsewhere,” she says, vowels Diamond District clipped. Her grip around your fingers is strong, tighter than it’s ever been as she leads you down a hallway and into an unused meeting room. Her breaths are coming heavy as she drops your arm like she’s been burned, deposits the plate on the empty table. Jay knows if she speaks now, her voice will shake and she will not have that. FUCK. Fuck, she was supposed to have this under control by now. She’s not your keeper, she’s not gonna stand between you and happiness but fuck it hurts to be used like a ticket into someone else’s bed.

“Jay,” you ask cautiously. “Are you okay? I really wasn’t going to take him up on his offer, I’m telling the truth, promise.”

“Why’d you come with me as a friend when you were already invited as someone’s fucking date?” Jay spits out, unable to contain her jealous anger and pacing to try and burn it off.

“But you invited me,” you answer her, voice trailing off in confusion.

Your face falls, voice thin and hurt. “We’re not?” you ask softly.

Jay has to stop pacing because wait what.

“You– you thought this was a date,” she says slowly. “You got all dressed up and wore the heels you hate because you wanted to look good. For me.” You hug yourself tightly and nod, gaze fixed on a spot on the floor. “But you don’t even like women?” And it’s less a painful fact she knows now and more of a question.

“We met because my date stood me up!” you exclaim.

“Yeah, Jerry,” Jay says, not sure where this is going. “Fuck that guy.”

“Gerry short for Geraldine!” you practically howl. “I’ve been practically throwing myself at you ever since, I thought you were just being nice and not saying anything to hurt my feelings,” you yell at her. “I thought– I thought you were finally giving me a chance tonight.” You pant, chest heaving as you reveal this more vulnerable truth.

“Oh,” she says stupidly, suddenly forced to re-contextualize her entire life for the past few months. You dash an angry hand at your tear eyes and turn to go.

“It was my mistake,” you tell her voice thick with emotion.

“Oh sweetheart,” she croons and you shudder. “Bet you’ve been feeling like I’ve been treating your real raw lately.” She cups your face in her hand, smoothes her thumb over the high plain of your cheekbone. “Why don’t you tell me what you were hopin’ for with your one big chance, tell me how tonight was supposed to go.” Jay nuzzles the side of your cheek, inhales the sweat and desperation rolling off your skin.

“We were– we were supposed to dance,” you confess, head falling back against the door.

“We can still do that,” she says, curling her fingers into your hair and pulling. She grins at your swift inhale.

“We were gonna dance an’ then, then you were gonna take me home.” You breathe out, pupils blown wide with hunger.

“Was that it baby girl?” She asks. “Playing it a little safe for your one night fantasy, weren’t you?” Jay lets go of your wrist to rest her hand on your shoulder, large hand pressing down on your collarbone.

“Was gonna kiss you goodnight,” you whimper, shivers running across your skin. Slowly, so slowly you can make out the ticking seconds hand of the big clock on the wall, Jay leans in and carefully slots her mouth down over yours. Sucks gently on your bottom lip before releasing it with a sigh.

“Like that?” Jay asks. “You were just hoping for a sweet little kiss on the mouth?” Her own breathing is ragged.

“No–o,” you gasp. “Was hoping– was hoping you’d kiss a little lower too.”

“These,” she snarls, then licks a fat stripe across the thin fabric of your black lace panties. “I’ve been dreaming of getting my hands on them since I first saw them.” You shiver, bury your hands into her thick hair for balance.

“They’re my– my lucky date underwear,” you gasp into the air.

“And you were hoping to get lucky tonight, weren’t you baby girl?” She coos up at you.

Biting your lip, you nod. Jay sets about tearing your underwear to pieces with her teeth. Your thighs tremble around her ears and she slams your hips back down against the door. Spreads your lips open with calloused fingers, presses a light kiss to your clit in greeting before she starts making out with your pussy. You howl and sag, trusting her to take the full weight of you as your knees turn to jelly.

Jay eats you out with enthusiasm and she eats you out with experience. Does this thing with the slick thrusting muscle of her tongue that has you gasping and begging for more. Can feel the heel of your shoe digging into her back, urging her own, begging her to fuck you harder. Spells her own name against your clit, brands her claim on you into your flesh as you wobble and whimper. Slick runs down her face as she grinds her nose into you.

Sucks your clit, hard, just a hint of teeth as she spears you open on a thick finger. Twists and curls it against your slick wet walls, lets herself affectionately get acquainted with your cunt. Scissors you open with two fingers just to watch your head bang back against the door, eyes shut and tears streaming down your face. Sets an uneven rhythm with her fingers and tongue that has you moaning and trying to ride her face for more. Finger fucks you with wet, squelching vigour as you quiver and shake, walls tightening up as you careen towards climax. Starts putting pressure on your rim with a third finger just to tip you over the edge of it all, pleasure making you stupid. Jay bites down at the sensitive inner skin of your thigh and suddenly has to drink down the slick of your second orgasm. So her baby girl likes a little pain with her pleasure, she’ll have to remember that for next time.

Gently, she takes your trembling thigh off her shoulder and places it back onto the ground. Pulls your skirt back down to hide the utter wreckage she’s made of your panties. Jay scrubs at her chin with her hand, then licks down all the sweet remaining slick she finds there. Grins felinely as you moan at the sight.

“Hoping for a little something like that, honey?” She teases.

Vigorously you nod, head bouncing back and forth like a bobblehead, words still fucked out of your brain. She holds out a hand to you – not the one that’s just been buried knuckle deep inside you – and clasps your hand in her own.

“C’mon, let’s go home then,” she tells you airily, leading you back through the maze of the building.

“But what about the party?” you ask, mascara still smeared around your eyes.

“I don’t care,” Jay bites out. “I’m taking you home and I’m fucking you until either I pass out or the sun comes up.”

“Okay,” you say, voice just verging on a whine. “That sounds better, actually.”

“Good,” Jay smirks. “Because it wasn’t a question.”

series masterlist | part 2

#rae's fic recs #jason todd x reader #fem!jason todd #jason todd smut

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edwinspaynes · 1 day ago

Text

I've spent most of my writing time working on chapter 3 of Now We're at the Starting Line (I Did My Time) this month. The good news is that the chapter will be out on the 15th as planned! The bad news is that I didn't write anything for Crystal week.

Luckily, this chapter has a Crystal-and-Edwin scene in it that I'm extremely proud of! I'm posting it independently a few days before the chapter for @crystal-week, because I love our little psychic so much and want to post something for her.

Starting Line spoilers under the cut!

CONTEXT: After getting home from an awful meeting with her mother, Crystal finds herself crying on the stairway of the Agency building. Edwin, after a rather emotional moment with Charles, ascends the stairs and sees her there.

Crystal should go home. She knew that she should – her bed would be a great distraction right now, and the promise of a night sleeping beside Niko’s ghostly form was a comfort. But she didn’t want to go home to Niko a crying mess, so she sat on the stairs between the parking lot and the Agency above with her knees pulled to her chest.

Her mom really didn’t care about her. She didn’t give two shits what happened to her daughter. It had never been clearer to Crystal than it was today, and it had already been pretty fucking clear.

You have twelve minutes, she had said.

This conversation has been a perfect waste of time.

Crystal, I’ve let you have your little delusion for long enough.

She should be beyond sadness. She shouldn’t be such a baby. She was Crystal Palace Surname Von-Hoverkraft, and she’d always been a force to be reckoned with. Not just psychic, not just magical, but strong. Emotionally sturdy. Reliable.

Even if her memories didn’t feel like her own, she recalled feeling that way. Powerful.

And, apparently, she couldn’t catch a break. Not even to have a good long humiliating cry on her own. Because the last voice she wanted to hear sounded behind her, echoing through the rickety stairwell louder than she’d ever wanted it to. “Crystal?” Edwin sounded weirdly worried. “Are you… crying?”

“No,” she said. “Someone’s fucking chopping onions.”

Edwin sat down beside Crystal gingerly, lowering himself with his hands awkwardly. He cocked his head to the side and hummed. “I can in fact recognize when you are being sarcastic,” he said. “You are not particularly subtle.”

Crystal snorted. “Did you think I was trying to be?”

“I do sometimes,” Edwin said lightly. “Perhaps not now, though, as you seem rather… tense.” He paused. When he finally spoke, his voice was oddly stiff. “Would you like to… discuss your particular malady?”

Crystal touched the buns in her hair, one after the next. She was already crying, and Edwin knew it. She might as well talk to him. What was the worst he could do?

And, as much as she hated admitting it, somewhere deep inside her she knew that she and Edwin were birds of a feather. Crystal might as well talk to him, right? Besides, she didn’t really care what he thought about her. He’d see her, and he’d be honest. Maybe that was all she needed right now. So she took a breath and said, with absolutely no prelude, “it was my mother.”

Edwin’s response was short, and his voice was light. “Oh?”

“Yeah,” Crystal said, grateful for his brevity. It made her feel like she could go on. “When Charles and I met up with her today, she was… I don’t know. A real asshole, honestly. But I hate saying that. She’s my mom, even if she was super clear that she didn’t want to see me.” She paused. “Did you know that she only gave me a fifteen-minute appointment? I’m her daughter, and she gave me a fifteen-minute scheduling block.”

“That is… less than positive,” Edwin agreed in an oddly sympathetic voice.

“That’s very British of you,” Crystal told him, and he smirked. She did, too, but felt her face fall again after a few seconds. “Just… and, like, I don’t want to bitch and moan about it, even if I’m speaking to the world record holder for bitching and moaning.”

“Now you are just needlessly instigating,” Edwin said, but there was an undercurrent of laughter in his voice. “A well-known facet of your personality, to be sure, but unnecessary right now.”

Crystal rolled her eyes. “Well, like I was saying, I don’t want to gripe too much, but like… she didn’t care that I was missing. She didn’t even fucking notice, and neither did my dad. What kind of parent doesn’t even notice when their child is missing? What kind of parent doesn’t even give it a second thought when they learned that their kid was a literal missing person?”

She was angry. She was indignant. But Edwin was looking off into the distance, his expression calm and contemplative. He looked like he wanted to say something, but was holding back for some reason.

Which sucked, because one of the reasons that she liked Edwin – though, ugh, why would she think that – was that he never bit his tongue. But his face was careful now, even if his eyes shone with some unidentifiable emotion.

“What is it?”

Edwin turned his head toward her, his shoulders rolling. He assessed her with an almost practiced nonchalance before speaking. His voice was kind, but there was an undercurrent of anger in it that Crystal didn’t understand.

Not yet, anyway.

“I do actually know something of that,” Edwin said. “Believe it or not.”

Crystal blinked. “What does that mean?”

Edwin paused. He opened his mouth once, shut it, and shook his head quickly. “When I went to Hell - ”

“God, Edwin,” Crystal said. “I know that what’s happened to me isn’t as bad as literal Hell. You don’t always have to compare.”

“I’m not,” Edwin said. His fists clenched and pressed together on his lap. “I am very sorry that I have given you reason to believe that I am.”

All the fight went out of Crystal then. “It’s fine,” she said.

“Might I go on now?”

“Fine.”

“When I went to Hell,” Edwin continued, “my disappearance was labeled an Act of God. I believe I have told you that, but… well, I have had decades to contemplate the implications of that, and to research precisely what the declaration entailed.” He paused. “One facet of such a statement is that I was not looked for. Not by anyone. Society at large, to be sure, but I do not care much for the opinions of that lot. I do, however, care that my family abandoned my search.”

“Jesus,” Crystal said.

“Yes, I do believe that is a likely reason that no one searched for me.” Edwin’s voice was saucy, but Crystal sensed an undertone of real hurt. “They did not even start, in fact. I was an Act of God from the day I went missing. To this day, my death is what Charles calls a ‘cold case.’ I remain unburied, and my mother and father could not even be bothered to purchase an empty casket for me despite their abundance of money.”

“That sucks,” Crystal said sympathetically.

“Yes,” Edwin agreed. “It is not an ideal outcome. And I know that you think me unemotional, or cold. But remembering that no one around me cared to search for me – it is the only time that I remember that I was once a person.” He cocked his head. “But this is not about me. It is about the truth that you are far from alone in your sentiments, and-” Edwin made a vibrating sound with his lips, his eyes wide. “Well. That is rather enough emotion for one sitting. I daresay that I had far too many feelings after… well. I shall have to find a way to cleanse myself of it.”

Crystal snorted, and in that moment, she felt a bit herself again.

Then, to bring the mood back to something adjacent to normal, she turned toward Edwin. “Did you know that when I was born my mom signed my forehead?”

Edwin gave her an odd look. “With one of those… magical markers? Whyever would she do that?”

Crystal laughed slightly. “No, it was a temporary tattoo of her signature. It was like I was an art piece they were curating. They wanted to make some weird statement online.”

“Your internet is indeed an odd place. A wealth of knowledge, but also a wealth of independent publications waiting to be ridiculed.”

Edwin sidled off the stair next to her wordlessly and walked away, up the stairs and toward the comfort of his books and notes. Crystal watched him go, and he never turned back.

And she knew what she had to do.

She couldn’t give up, not for herself. Not just for her own sake, though that would have been a pretty damn good reason in itself. She had to understand her powers for Charles, for Edwin… and for Niko, who had been lighting her up inside in a weirdass way lately that she didn’t even understand. She had to know who she was, even beyond her memories, and if Maddy Surname wasn’t going to help her…

Well, fuck her.

Aicha, she thought, are you there?

Her eyes went white as Aicha responded.

Always, my sweet child.

#dead boy detectives #dbda #crystal week #crystal palace #edwin payne #starting line

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the-100-days-of-junkan · 9 hours ago

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Day 44

It’s Day 44 and this absolute fucks with my rules a bit. Junko’s barely in this, and it’s far more prominently focused on Ibuki than it is Mikan. So I’d consider this one of the weakest days of the whole Project. Am I being unreasonable? Probably!

I do however have stories to tell, now granted on an older post on my main account I did tell this before, however it was cut down because it’s decently related to the fact that I ship Junkan, and that was a secret at the time.

So some of ya’ll probably know that I ship Mukuro x Sayaka x Ibuki, because I like to be in pain and what better form of agony is there than a Rare Pair so rare that by my count there are 3 pieces of fan material for the ship that weren’t made by me. One of them is fanart that existed before me, one of them is an AO3 fic you can only read with an account, and one of them was drawn by my girlfriend at my request. So what does that say about how fuckin’ Rare it is.

Anyway, the reason I came to this ship is because of a dream. I couldn’t tell you the full details from memory because it’s been awhile, but essentially there was a moment where Ibuki was talking to Junko on a video screen, and Junko was concerned for Ibuki’s safety. And while still dreaming I found myself confused because “Hey wait, I ship Junkan, not (Insert whatever the ship name for Ibuki x Junko is)”

So in the strangest stretch I ever made, I reasoned out that it was actually Mukuro disguised as Junko like in the original game. But then came the issue of “Wait, I’m an Ikuzono shipper!” for you see, for some reason when it comes to Danganronpa I can’t for the life of me Multiship. I can do that just fine with something like, RWBY for example, but Danganronpa? I find one ship that appeals to me, and I do not stray from the path, as if I'll be fucking cursed the moment I do. The only time this has ever gone differently is when I read like, two Maki x Kaede x Miu fics and realized “God dammit I love this” after years of being an Irumatsu shipper.

So i took the pain route and just made it a polycule.

And now I stare at myself in the mirror and just plead to the reflection “Why?” in the middle of the night . . . okay not actually but it’d be funny if that was true.

Anyway uh, oh right the art. I really liked drawing Mikan just being a gay little dweeb over Junko while Ibuki is just vibing like an axolotl (there’s a drawing idea.)

And don’t worry everyone! They won’t take away focus from our Star Couple, but my highly specific polycule will return in the future. Fear it’s impending return.

As always, Reblogs, Comments, and Little Notes in the Tags are appreciated!~ They always make my day!~

#danganronpa #junkan #junko enoshima #mikan tsumiki #enomiki #junko x mikan #tsumiki mikan #shipping #enoshima junko #junkomikan

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isaidlandowecanbeworldchampion · 1 day ago

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Taste / Lost The Breakup Part 5

A/n: Shorter one today but just as sweet- Enjoy!

Previous Part / Next Part

Your eyes fluttered against the morning sunlight through the curtains. You turn and snuggle into the warmth that envelops you, feeling the gentle weight of an arm around your waist. You jolt awake fully. Oscar’s arm tightens around you and pulls you closer to his chest.

“Five more minutes” He mumbles, clearly still asleep. His head drops to the crook of your neck where he lazily presses a kiss.

You run a hand through his hair and try to gently disentangle yourself from his limbs surrounding you. He’s clinging to you like your own personal koala.The movement from you clearly wakes Oscar a bit more. He groans and drops his head back to your neck for a moment. Oscar springs back like he's been burnt.

“I am so sorry.” He’s teetering on the edge of the bed, half sitting up, arms up between you.

You giggle. You can't help it. The absolute terror in his face is surprisingly adorable. You cover your mouth, the giggle turning into full blown cackles and before you know it Oscar’s laughing too. His terror forgotten. You pluck up the pillow from where you had been laying your head and throw it at him. It hits him square in the face which makes you both laugh harder.

You continue like this for a while, the impromptu pillow fight through fits of giggles. Soon you find yourself straddling Oscar’s lap hitting him gently with the pillow.

“Hey, hey! Time out.” He grabs your wrists and holds them between you, the pillow is forgotten next to you both.

Oscar stares up at you. For the second time in as many days, you’re mere inches apart. Sharing the same air. Oscar reaches up and tucks a piece of hair behind your ear. You notice everything about him. The freckles and moles on his cheeks, the way his hair flops perfectly even though he had just woken up. Even the crinkles by his eyes because even if his mouth isn’t, he’s still smiling . You want to just lean in and -

“We should get up.” Oscar said suddenly, looking anywhere except the woman on his lap.

You feel like a bucket of cold water has been thrown over you. “Of course” You murmur, extracting yourself from his lap with the grace of a newborn foal. You begin to make the bed, fluffing the pillows and pulling the duvet up neatly. Oscar rolls out of bed and stands looking at you.

“I’m sorry, I-” He tries to say.

“It’s fine.” You say, harshly. “Already forgotten, right?” You plaster a saccharine smile across your face. “Good luck in quali today”

Oscar swipes a hand across his face. “What?But?” Oscar is facing you, the bed feeling more like an ocean. “Why are you mad at me?”

“I’m not mad.”

“You are!” Oscar rounds the bed, still a respectful distance away. “Talk to me. Please”

His head is tilted down toward you, tired eyes filled with worry.

“Don’t- God! Fuck!” You throw your hands over your face. “ Oscar!”

“Hey, hey!” He pulls your hands away from your face, looking deep into your eyes. “What’s going on in there?”

You take a deep breath. His face is a mix of concern and confusion, brow furrowed and lips slightly parted. You launch yourself towards him, your hand wrapping around the back of his neck. Your lips collide and his arms come around your waist, pulling him further into him. He nips lightly at your lower lip and you gasp. Oscar jumps away from you like he’d been burnt.

“I-What?” He sits on the bed, his head in his hands.

“I’m sorry, just with what you said the other night about winning and I thought-” You turn away, dejected. Fully prepared to be packed up and sent back to Monaco.

Oscar jumps up, spinning you around and holding you by the upper arms. “ No, No ! I do. It’s just complicated, right?” He looks down at his feet and asks quietly, “But with what you said to Lando the night, I have to ask. Is this just a way of processing the breakup? Because I’m happy to be here for you but I can’t do that”

You pull your arm free to run a hand through his hair. “I think I’ve been lying to myself about how I feel about you for a while.”

Oscar grinned and then looked at his watch and realised the time.

“Oh shit, I’m late.” He ran to his suitcase. “ Can we talk about this tonight? I’m so sorry, I have to go”

You smile and sit on the bed. “Of course, Maybe over dinner?”

“Absolutely!” He rushes toward the door, throwing a hoodie over his team kit. “I”ll text you.”

The door shuts with a gentle click.

@amz824@cmleitora@herexpertcollector@piastrams@coriyaps@milkysoop

#f1 #formula 1 #f1blr #f1 blog #lando norris #op81 #f1 fic #f1 smut #Oscar Piastri #oscar piastri smut #ln4 #mclaren #op81 x reader #Oscar Piastri x reader

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justaragdollysblog · 1 day ago

Note

Can you write an alternate direction of "If I Didn't Walk In"? What if Jax did go to Ragatha about Marybelle instead of cheating on her? What if she confronted Marybelle about the situation while also trying to ease the tensions between them? What if something Marybelle says or does causes Ragatha to stop internalizing? What if she snaps? This is just an idea btw, I just love your fanfics :D

If I Hadn’t Gone In- Alternate Events (not canon to the series)

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

I AM SO SORRY i’ve wanted to write and i’ve been busy with work and executive dysfunction has been absolutely kicking my motivation out the window lol!!

i plan to write this and the zooble ask i have as well!

TW: Hurt/Comfort, Suggestive talk, Heated argument, Mentions of verbal harassment

————————————————————————

All was quiet in the main tent, but tension steeped in the air so thickly, one could choke. The cast sit at the long dinner table, simulated food in front of them.

The adventure that day hadn’t been particularly grueling, but it was what happened after the adventure and during the feast, that caused this charged and heavy silence.

It was all because of a relatively new arrival: Marybelle. A tall and slim porcelain wind up ballerina, fair skinned and poised. She had an instant disdain for every circus cast member, but Ragatha and Jax were the unwilling victims.

Ragatha knew what it was like to first get here. The news didn’t ever get easier to relay. Maybe that was why, like every member that arrived after her, she tried to give Marybelle a sense of community and compassion when she spawned in for the first time.

In the first week or so, after the initial shock wore off, the pristine ballerina hadn’t let up on Ragatha. Every glare, every insult soaked in venom, was directed at the rag doll. On the opposite end…was Marybelle giving praise and unwanted attention to Jax.

Jax hadn’t been used to this attention from another girl, or even another member of the circus cast. Him and Ragatha had been together for months now, and he made it clear to the ballerina that she was the only one he ever loved, and he’d never leave her for anyone.

The strange thing was…she didn’t seem deterred.

Before he got with Ragatha, he might’ve accepted the flirtation. But he always felt differently around the rag doll. He could be himself. He didn’t have to be alone, and he could finally let himself love and BE loved.

So, when she blew a kiss at the feast they were currently undergoing, Jax stood up abruptly, slammed his chair against the table, and stomped off. He wasn’t going to cry in front of the others; he did have a reputation to uphold. He wiped frustrated tears and opened Ragatha’s door, burrowing himself in her bed. Her scent calmed his whirling mind down.

Ragatha looked after him in concern and worry. She bit her lip for a second. “I’m gonna go check on him, see you guys in a bit!” She forced a smile to the others, and subsequently to Marybelle.

Zooble rolled their mismatch eyes. “Okay, seriously, this [BOINK] needs to stop. We’re all lonely here, but there’s no point harassing them.” They glared pointedly at her.

Marybelle simply sipped on a glass of digital water. “We have all the time here, right? He’ll come around.” She giggled a little, tinkling bells laced with malice.

Zooble just groaned in annoyance. They’d be there for Ragatha if something happened, but if she wanted to get herself into trouble, there wasn’t much they could do. Everyone eventually went back to their rooms, leaving Marybelle alone at the table.

—

Ragatha felt her heart break at Jax’s angry crying. She knew when he was upset, and she knew he’d be in her room. She liked to do the same thing when she was upset (read as: also burrow in his bed).

She gently creaked her door open. The fairy lights cast a warm and gentle glow in the already cozy room. She slowly and quietly snapped the door shut behind her. Soft footsteps filled the silence as she sat next to Jax on her bed.

He lay, quiet and hiding his face, but Ragatha knew he was crying. She smiled softly, eyes half lidded with affection and gentleness. She didn’t say anything, but started petting his ears like he liked her to do.

His eyes softened and he relaxed his body under her touch. He pressed his head into her hand. Nothing was said for a few minutes, when-

“‘m sorry, Rags…” Mumbled Jax as he felt her finger trace patterns on his furry ears. He didn’t know exactly why he was apologizing; he just thought he should.

Ragatha shook her head slightly. “None of this is your fault, bun.” She whispered, affectionate and tenderness soaking every word. She gently brought her hand to cup his face, gently rubbing circles with her thumb in his fur.

Gods, she knew how to calm him down. Jax sniffled a little. “I just- I don’t want you to think I’d ever…” He didn’t finish it. He couldn’t bring himself to.

Ragatha softly chuckled. “Jax, I trust you. I know you’d never. I know that for a fact. We’re gonna get through this. Maybe I can talk to her!” She suggested.

Jax wiped his eyes again. “Yeah. That sounds good.” He couldn’t help himself but let out a large, toothy yawn. He was already tired, and crying was exhausting to him.

Ragatha laughed, louder this time. She loved his yawns like that. She loved everything about him. “Get some rest, jaxrabbit. I’ll be right here when I’m done, okay?”

He looked up at her with yellow eyes full of love and trust. “‘mkay. Love you, Rags.” His voice cracked a little and he leaned into her hand once more.

Ragatha smiled genuinely. How did she ever get this lucky? “To the sun and back, Jax.” She kissed him gently and lovingly.

—

A few minutes later, his breathing straightened out and small snores escaped him. He was asleep, already splayed out and covering the whole bed. Ragatha squeezed his hand and walked out.

Marybelle was on her way to her room, red ballet shoes forever stuck on pointe glided across the carpet. Ragatha took a deep breath.

“Marybelle? Can we talk?”

She paused, and then shot daggers at Ragatha. “Only if you make it quick.”

Ragatha took another breath. “I know it’s not easy getting here. You can always talk to us, but…it’s making me and Jax a bit uncomfortable with how you’ve been acting toward us…” Ragatha tested the waters with her opening statement. She tried to sound reasonable and pragmatic, but she wasn’t as good at it as Pomni.

Marybelle narrowed her eyes, winged mascara sharp as a knifes edge. She looked her up and down with a flick of her eyes. “I’m just trying to get to know the people I’m stuck with.”

Ragatha could practically feel her patience start to thin. “And there’s nothing wrong with that! Really. It’s just-“

“Just that you know he’d be better off with some prettier.”

Ragatha felt her blood turn to ice and she stopped. “You don’t know anything about him…” Ragatha cursed herself for letting a comment like that show her insecurities. To be truthful, Ragatha had always been insecure about her looks.

“Oh, I don’t need to. It’s obvious. He’s only uncomfortable because he has to hide it in front of you.” She snapped, once again giggling darkly.

She felt her blood metaphorically boil. She clenched and shook her fists. “You don’t know anything about him.” She spat, firmer this time.

Marybelle was full on laughing now. “Face it. Once we’re alone, he’ll forget all about you. I’ll make sure of that.” She dropped her voice to a sultry tone.

Ragatha felt something inside her snap. Just like everyone else, the only thing she tried to do was make everyone happy. Comfortable. She didn’t deserve this. Jax didn’t deserve this.

She approached her, getting in her face. Her voice was as low and as dangerous as it could go. Her voice was sharper than any knife. “You’re not going to get near him, or me, or anyone else. I don’t care if you find the exit and never come back. Stay away from him.”

She was breathing shakily. She loved Jax so much. Past the tough and rude exterior, he loved Ragatha in ways she’d never thought possible. He had been there to defend and protect her countless times.

Now, she was going to protect him.

Marybelle almost looked…scared. Her eyes darted around for a second. She huffed and scoffed. “Fine!” She pushed Ragatha back a bit and stormed off, censors beeping into the distance as she walked away.

Ragatha took a deep breath again. She felt a bit better. Maybe Jax was right about getting her anger out sometimes.

She brushed off her dress and approached her room again, slowly opening the door. Jax lay asleep still, somehow even more splayed out than when she left.

She sighed a little and smiled softly at him. She approached the bed and slowly crawled in next to him. As if he could sense her, he relaxed when she got close. She pressed a soft kiss to his neck and cuddled up to him. His chest rumbled with purrs.

She felt her eyelids drooping to the melodic, rhythmic tone. “Goodnight, bun.”

————————————————————————

I hope this is good!!!! IM STILL SO SORRY AB THE WAIT

reblogs are appreciated! see u guys later!

#bunnydoll tadc #tadc #the amazing digital circus #tadc fic #writers on tumblr #tadc ragatha #tadc jax #ragatha #jax x ragatha #ragatha x jax #the amazing digital circus ragatha #the amazing digital circus jax #tadc angst #tadc oc #tadc zooble #zooble

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dixons-sunshine · 11 hours ago

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The Boyfriend Assessment | Quarters Of The Undead AU

Summary: Meeting your best friend’s boyfriend for the first time was never easy. In Georgianna’s case, meeting Vec’s boyfriend felt like a life or death situation—until it didn’t.

Warnings: I can’t think of anything.

Word count: 2.8k

A/N: First official fic for this AU on my part! Aahhhh I’m so excited! I hope I captured Vec accurately, @thevegandarkelf. If not, I’d be more than happy to change a few things. Also, I know there’s no Daryl in this, but I wanted to get a head start on Georgie and Scud’s sibling rivalry. My next fic should probably include Daryl!

“How do I look?”

At the sound of her voice, Georgianna looked up from the tests she was busy grading and up at Lydia Rae Vector—or, well, Dia for her personally due to best friend reasons, and Vec for others—her roommate and absolute bestest friend in the whole world. The woman in question stood in front of Georgianna, sporting a casual yet outgoing look, all in an attempt to impress the guy that worked at the auto repair shop near Atlanta General, the same guy that was coming over for dinner so that Georgianna could finally meet the man that held her best friend’s heart as of late. The cutie with the bandana, as she had come to know him as from their extensive talks about the man.

Georgianna clicked her red pen closed and leaned back on the couch. She hummed and scanned Vec’s attire, a faux look of contemplation on her face. It was all for show, really. Vec was one of the most fashionable people she knew. If one were to give her a trash bag, she would find a way to style it. But Georgianna knew that Vec loved her reassurance nonetheless, so she always made sure to let her best friend know her honest thoughts.

“You look great, Dia,” Georgianna spoke up after a few beats of silence, her tone laced with honesty and sincerity. “Now calm down and take a few deep breaths, okay?”

Vec took her advice and followed the breathing patterns Georgianna was demonstrating. Once she was certain she was not going to freak out, Vec sighed. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.” Georgianna stood up from the couch and made her way over to Vec, closely inspecting her rather nervous stature, something that was rather uncommon for the usually confident, straightforward woman. “What’s up, babe? What’s got you so worried? I’m the one that should be nervous.”

“I don’t even really know,” Vec admitted with a small groan. “I mean, when it’s just me and him, everything is so natural. He matches my freak, y’know? And obviously, when it’s just you and me, we can talk about anything and nothing all at once. But—”

“You’re nervous about how we’ll feel about each other,” Georgianna finished for her, instantly understanding where her worry was coming from.

“A little bit, yeah.”

“Dia, you don’t have to worry about what we think of each other, okay? Even if we end up despising each other, I won’t let it affect you. I’ll learn to tolerate him. But I’m sure that won’t even be necessary. I’m sure I’m gonna love him. Well, not like that, of course. He’s your man. I would never betray your trust like that. I—”

“I get what you meant,” Vec interrupted her with a light laugh, knowing well that if she did not, Georgianna would go on a rant in an attempt to explain something she did not have to in the first place. Georgianna had a tendency to overthink, and Vec was the anchor that helped her in those types of situations.

Georgianna sighed and shrugged. “Besides, if this guy—”

“Josh.”

“—Josh is as great as you say he is, then I’m sure we’re gonna get along great.” When Vec nodded, Georgianna continued. “Now calm down, okay? Tonight’s gonna go just fine.”

“You’re right,” Vec agreed. “It will be fine.”

The doorbell to the two women’s shared apartment rung, making them both look over at it. Georgianna frowned and looked up at the clock on the wall, before looking back at her best friend. “It’s only five thirty. I thought he was gonna be here at seven.”

Vec shrugged nonchalantly. “I mean, I told him to be here any time after five if he wanted. I didn’t think he was actually gonna be so early.” Her earlier nerves being replaced with an idea she deemed positively brilliant, Vec smiled. “It gives the two of you the time to get to know each other while I make dinner!”

“You’re kidding,” Georgianna exclaimed in a hushed whisper. “Dia, you can’t leave me alone with him! The living room is a mess! And you know what—”

“What a flibbertigibbet you can be when you’re nervous. Yes, I know, but I also know that he wouldn’t mind that.” Vec gripped Georgianna’s shoulder in—what she hoped was—reassurance. “Believe me, he doesn’t mind messes at all. And besides, I seriously doubt five test papers can qualify as a mess. You’ll be fine, Ginny. I promise. Think of this as a parent-teacher conference.”

Georgianna hesitantly nodded. “Yeah, okay. I can do that.”

“Perfect, because you don’t really have a choice.”

Before Georgianna could say anything, Vec backed away from the woman and stalked towards the door. She opened the wooden barrier between her and her boyfriend, and smiled brightly at the man on the other end. Georgianna forced herself to relax, trying to remind herself that this was not a big deal. She loved meeting new people. She strived for social interactions. She was a complete social butterfly. She could do this.

“Josh, hey!” Vec greeted the man enthusiastically.

If it was not for the fact that she had seen it with her own eyes, Georgianna would never have thought she was nervous at all. Vec truly was a master at changing her emotions in a matter of seconds. Georgianna often joked that her best friend should have gone into the acting business instead of surgery due to that little fact alone.

“Heya, Vee.”

Vec leaned forward and gave the man a quick peck on the lips, before beckoning him inside. “C’mon, you gotta meet Georgie.”

Got to was a bit of an overstatement, Georgianna thought to herself. However, she forced herself to calm down and plastered a smile onto her face. This meeting meant a lot to Vec, and by god, Georgianna was going to ensure that it went as smoothly as humanly possible.

The moment Georgianna’s eyes landed on the man she had heard so much about, the woman had to resist the urge to comment on his choice of clothing. He wore a shirt that had some science joke on it, with a pair of jeans that had definitely seen better days, a big puffer jacket and a pair of sneakers that had a bunch of small doodles on the side. He even wore a bandana, but from the various conversations she had with Vec regarding the cutie with the bandana, Georgianna had expected that last part.

The couple walked into the living room and came to a stop a few feet away from Georgianna. She exchanged a look with Vec, before turning back to the man—Josh—and extended her hand.

“Hi. I’m Georgianna,” she greeted in a tone of voice that closely resembled the one she used when greeting the parents of the kids she taught. “Georgianna Marianne Hawkins.” She had no idea why she had felt the need to give her full government name, but there was no going back now.

The man smiled and gripped her hand in his and shook it once. “It’s nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you.” He removed his hand from hers and motioned towards himself. “I’m Joshua Frohmeyer, but you can call me Scud. Just about everybody does.”

Georgianna nodded and looked at Scud with a scrutinising gaze. It got quiet for a few moments, before Scud chuckled awkwardly and cleared his throat. “Okay, then. Where’s the bathroom?”

“Down the hall, first door to the right,” Vec explained, smiling at him as he kissed her on the cheek and disappeared down the hall. When she heard the door close, she turned back to Georgianna. “What was that about?”

“What do you mean?” Georgianna inquired with a confused frown.

“You know, that look you gave him. Like you’re a dad trying to figure out his intentions with your daughter.”

“You trying to insinuate you see me as your mom?” When Vec simply sent her a pointed look, Georgianna laughed and shook her head. “Okay, okay. I just… I guess I just don’t really understand something.”

That got Vec’s attention. “What do you mean?”

“You kept going on about the cutie with the bandana, and I just don’t get it. I mean, I can clearly see that he’s wearing a bandana, but I’m struggling to see how the word ‘cutie’ comes into play here.”

The clearing of someone’s throat slightly startled both Vec and Georgianna. Whipping around, she came face-to-face with none other than the man she had been talking about a few moments prior. Georgianna would have felt embarrassed, but for some reason unbeknownst to her, she did not.

Scud went and stood next to Vec once more, his blue eyes studying Georgianna’s face intently. “Well, then it’s a good thing it’s only her opinion that matters.” For added emphasis, he motioned towards Vec.

Georgianna crossed her arms over her chest and met Scud’s gaze head-on. She did not know where this sudden surge of confidence came from, but there was just something about the man in front of her that made her feel weirdly at ease, like she could speak her mind without having to fear looking like an absolute fool. She could not explain the odd feeling.

“Well,” she began matter-of-factly, “considering the fact that Vec came to me for the initial “yes or nah” evaluation of you, I personally think that my opinion holds a ton of value.”

Scud simply stared at her with a deadpan look. “Not in this case, it doesn’t. In fact, any opinions ya have of me will be taken with a grain of salt.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes, it is.”

“Well, I think—”

“Okay!” Vec interrupted. Maybe leaving them alone to talk wouldn’t be such a brilliant idea after all, Vec thought to herself. In an attempt to ease what she thought was an uncomfortable tension, she turned to Scud. “How about you help me in the kitchen while Georgie finishes up with her work?”

Scud shrugged and nodded. “Sounds good to me.” He turned to Georgianna with a smirk on his face. “That okay with you, Marianne? Considering your opinion holds so much value?”

Georgianna rolled her eyes at his comment, and the unnecessary emphasis of her middle name. She knew exactly why he did that. Vec must have told him how much she hated being addressed by her middle name. It was the perfect way to take a jab at her without outright insulting her.

“Yes, it’s completely fine with me, Joshua. Just don’t burn my kitchen down while you’re at it,” Georgianna replied, emphasizing his name as well and smirking slightly at the way he cringed at that. Vec had told Georgianna how much Scud hated being addressed by his full first name, so now that once unimportant piece of information had turned way more vital for the Hawkins woman.

“Guys,” Vec chimed in, her eyes darting between her best friend and her boyfriend, “please don’t.”

Georgianna and Vec shared a look, before the former moved over towards the couch and sat back down in front of the test that had laid momentarily forgotten. “Whatever you make, remember—”

“No onions or tomatoes. Yes, I know.”

With that, Vec ushered Scud into the kitchen, leaving Georgianna alone in the living room. With one last look towards where the couple had stood only moments prior, she picked up her pen and resumed with her task of grading the paper, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

Yeah, Georgianna had a feeling that her and Scud were going to get along just fine.

“Thanks for coming over, Josh.”

“Of course. This was great.” Scud leaned down and pressed a soft, tender peck to Vec’s lips. He shrugged his jacket on and sent Vec a charming, heartfelt smile.

Georgianna—who stood off to the side—simply observed the couple with a small, fond smile on her face. The two truly did make a terrific pair. They complimented each other’s personalities beautifully. All throughout dinner, Georgianna had noticed how Scud’s eyes barely strayed away from her best friend, even when Vec was not looking. They were perfect for one another, and Georgianna was beyond happy that her best friend had finally found the person that was meant for her.

Georgianna liked Scud. She could see that he was a great guy. Despite only officially knowing him for a few hours, Georgianna felt like she had known him her whole life. Her usual very slight awkwardness when meeting new people failed to make an appearance with Scud, and that little fact spoke volumes. All throughout dinner, Scud and Georgianna made jokes and took playful jabs at one another, like they were siblings just catching up at a family dinner instead of being complete strangers to the other.

Scud’s eyes shifted over to Georgianna, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. “Good night, Marianne.”

“Night, Joshua,” Georgianna greeted with a roll of her eyes. “Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.”

With one last kiss to Vec’s cheek, Scud disappeared out of the front door. Closing the door behind her, Vec locked it, made her way over to the couch and collapsed onto it. With a heavy sigh, she looked up at Georgianna, her blue eyes sparkling in the dim light of the living room.

“So,” she began, her eyes following Georgianna as the aforementioned woman went about tidying up the living room, “I have a feeling that you don’t particularly like him.”

“Who, Scud?” Georgianna asked rhetorically, though she still received a nod from Vec. “Oh, no, he’s great. I like him. I can totally see why you fell for him. He’s not my type, but he’s yours and I can see myself becoming great friends with him.”

That confused Vec. Her eyebrows furrowed behind her glasses as she gazed up at the brown-haired woman. “I—what? Huh?”

“What’s wrong?” Georgianna inquired, completely taken aback by her friend’s strange behaviour. “You sound like you’re having a stroke.”

“The two of you didn’t stop taking jabs at each other all night!” Vec exclaimed, her tone evidently laced with confusion. “It sounded like you hated him.”

“I don’t hate him. He’s actually really cool, and I could tell that he didn’t mean what he was saying. You know I’m good at reading people, Dia. He’s a good guy and he clearly makes you happy.” Georgianna sat down on the armchair, a sigh leaving her chest. “Besides, his “insults” were kinda weak. I’ve had way worse things said to me before.”

Vec smiled at her. “So he has your stamp of approval?”

Georgianna nodded. “He does.”

“Then it definitely makes me feel better about giving him your number.”

“You gave him my number?” Georgianna asked, although she was just curious, not angry. “Why?”

“I gave it to him a while ago,” Vec replied with a shrug. “It was just in case there happened to be an emergency and I couldn’t call you with my phone. I completely forgot to tell you that I did. I’m sorry.”

Georgianna nodded slowly. “Okay, yeah. That makes sense. And it’s fine.” Vec was just about to say something else, but a yawn cut her off, making Georgianna chuckle. “Go to bed, Dia. I’ll clean up.”

“You sure?” When Georgianna nodded, Vec got up from the couch. “You’re the best, Ginny. I love you.”

“Love you too, Dia. Now go to bed. You have an early shift tomorrow.”

Vec nodded, and with that, she disappeared down the hall and into her bedroom. A few seconds after the door was shut, Georgianna’s phone buzzed in her pocket. She took her phone out, opened it and read the text that had come through.

Unknown: hiya, Marianne. It’s Scud. Thought I’d shoot ya a text to thank you for having me over. It was fun.

Unknown: By the way, I hope you didn’t take my “insults” to heart. I didn’t mean anything by it. It was just playful banter.

Georgianna shook her head at the texts. She quickly saved the number to her phone, before replying to him.

Georgie: Don’t worry, I know. Same here. I didn’t mean anything by it.

Joshua: Good to know.

Joshua: Anyways, I gotta go. Nightly call with my bae. She’s way better company than you. Sorry about that.

The moment Georgianna read that text, she heard the muffled sound of Vec’s ringtone, before it got silenced by the enthusiastic “hey, babe! You home yet?” from the aforementioned woman. Georgianna smiled at the clear-as-day happiness her best friend exuded. She put her phone down on the table and made her way to the kitchen, humming to herself as she went about cleaning up the mess.

Scud made Vec beyond happy, and that was enough for Georgianna to decide that her and Scud would get along just fine.

Georgie belongs to me.

Vec belongs to @thevegandarkelf.

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