#like they need to do something else together like yesterday

[the-kr8tor]

Hello!!! here is my first potion request! the ideas have finally finished cooking up in my brain!!! the apothecary is so cute!!!!!!!!

Can i please get flax seeds in ❣️bottle please with r and hobie getting their first farm together

🕊���anon

Dovey! Thank you for requesting! I hope you like it ❤️

Pairing: Cowboy! Hobie Brown x fem! Reader

Word count: 1.2k

Tags: no use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, set in the our place in the middle of nowhere AU, cowboy AU, talks of pregnancy, lovestruck! Hobie, Cowboy! Hobie, Old west AU, CW death mention, Fluff!

Our place in the middle of nowhere masterlist

Katy's one year celebration 🎉

You whistle lowly at the dusty barn looming over you. “She's a beut!”

The red paint is chipping from the elements, its hinges are rusted, and there's a huge hole in the ceiling. You're sure that's not a feature.

Hobie luggs around a heavy bag of tools borrowed from the people in town. Although his hand is occupied, he still takes the time to hold your hand under the blazing sun. His eyes squint at the building, neck straining to look at the hole where he definitely needs to patch up lest Bucky and Cherry start sleeping inside the farm house. His scar catches your eye, no longer hidden by a bandana. He looks comfortable, more at home standing on his land with you right next to him.

After cleaning up the house as much as you can, (or until you stopped sneezing every minute,) and patching up all the holes he missed the first time which suspiciously look like bullet holes, you and Hobie aren't even half done with renovating the whole property. When he first bought the place, he never thought that you'd be living with him, now that you are, he has a proper excuse on why he bought what Miguel and Riri called a ‘dirt farm.’ At least you two have a stable place to eat and sleep in instead of staying at a roach infested and mold ridden hotel somewhere in town.

Even with all the hard work that you two have and will need to put in to make the farm a home you're both proud of, you wouldn't have it any other way. You'd choose this every time as long as he's with you. You haven't even thought about your old life ever since you both slept for the first time under the same roof you both could call home.

“You said that when you first saw the farm house.”

You nudge his shoulder, leaning closer, and cheek pressed on his warm skin that's in full display because of an old work shirt that he had to cut the sleeves off. The bleached overalls and cowboy boots makes him look infinitely more handsome under the western sun. Noticing his squinting, you take your (his) hat off and place it on his head to help shield him from the sun. He gives you a look, smile etched on his face as his eyes conveys something else that has your heart jumping in place.

“And I was right,” you glance at the farm house a few ways away. After three whole days of painting the outside, the house now looks shiny and new with its light blue paint that reminds you of the sea, and brown inlays basking in the sun. “We just gave her a makeover.”

“More like a facelift, lovie.” He tilts his head to make you look at him, index and thumb cupping your chin. “Think you can handle this one?”

You blink at him, face heated at the close proximity as his breath fans your cheeks. “Yes, because I know if we go back inside then we really won't be able to do anything else today. Just like yesterday, and the day before that, and—”

“I bloody get it, I'm insatiable.” He rolls his jade eyes, lips already puckering up to meet with your own. “Can't help it when you look at me like that, love.”

“Hobie, I love you so damn much but at this rate we'll get a surprise down the road.” You reluctantly lean away, earning a pout from one of the most feared outlaw in the west. “Think nine months down the road.”

He grins at your last sentence, then his expression morphs into contemplation, then to panic. Giving you a front row seat to his crisis.

“While you think about that,” you pat his cheek lovingly before walking away. “I'm going to check the barn.”

“Wait, love, are you—?!” He calls after you, quickly running right behind you.

You laugh loudly, sprinting away as you push the barn door open, getting a full face of dust and cobwebs once you get inside. Coughing, it's Hobie's turn to laugh at you.

“Shit! I underestimated how dirty this place is.” Wiping your face, the tool bag thumps on the hay filled floor, then you feel his calloused hands cup your face as he gently wipes the dust and cobwebs off of you. “Thanks, Hobs.”

He hums in reply, taking his sweet time in cleaning you up. His brows pinch together, lips frowning. “Don't panic but there's a big spider on your hair.”

“What?!” You frantically shake your head, hands scratching and waving your hair away all over the place. “Get it off!”

Hobie's amused laugh stops you in your tracks. Your hair is a mess, face all scrunched up because of his little prank. “C’mere.” He opens his arms for you, but you refuse to move. “‘m sorry, c’mon, let me make it better—”

“No,” you pout while trying to fix your hair. “You've betrayed me, Hobie Brown.”

He tilts his head playfully, green eyes shining with affection. “You wanna duel for it then?”

You stare at him with feigned shock. “You know I'll lose—!” Side stepping away when he tries to make a move on you, your pout turns into a smile. “No!” You point accusingly at him.

His and yours echoing laughter can be heard outside as you two play tag inside the dusty barn. His fingers brush along your arm but you escape his hold by jumping on the ladder leading up to the hayloft. The creaking is tamped down by your giggles as he pretends to yank you off the ladder.

“I said sorry!” His grin shines bright as sunlight filters through the cracks.

“No, you're mean!” Climbing higher, the creaking turns into wood splitting away. “Oh shit—!” You begin to fall down, still holding onto the ladder.

“Oh shit!” Hobie panics, arms ready to catch you. “Love!” Chest aching, and legs shaking, he catches you in time before you could fully fall. You land with a grunt, eyes shut closed as dust and bits of hay fall down on the two of you like snow. The loud clang of the ladder rings in your ears. “Got you,” he sighs in relief, heart still thudding in his chest from the sudden shot of adrenaline. His knees almost buckle from under him, hip and elbows aching from the impact. “Fuckin' hell.”

You crack one eye open, finding yourself in his familiar arms. “I thought I was a goner.” Patting his chest, your palm stays there until his quick heartbeat subsides. You smile at him apologetically, “thank you, Hobie. I'm sorry, I got carried away— achoo!”

Your sneeze breaks the tension, making Hobie's worried look turn into surprise then to a gleeful smile. As you stare up at him with those shining eyes and shy smile, he can't help but lean closer to you despite his aching muscles telling him to put you down.

“You'll be the death of me.” He whispers to you with a soft smile. “And I'll die happy.”

“You're not allowed to die on my watch, cowboy.” You say as his lips give you a peck right on your forehead. He traces your nose down to your cupid's bow, pausing when he lingers just above your lips.

“Yes, ma’am.”

[phierecycled]

christian borle and andrew rannells' chemistry was way too good for them only to be in one show together

[quicktimeeventfull]

like it has happened to me SO many times that my manager will come up to me and be like ‘can you do this’ and i will be like ‘yes’ bc i can. and the question has been answered. no request has been made of me. so i do not take any further action. but in fact what she meant was ‘please do this.’ & it seems like the obvious solution to this problem would be to treat ‘can you do this’ as a request 100% of the time but it is NOT a request 100% of the time. sometimes she is literally just asking bc she needs to know, for future projects, if our system is capable of xyz. how does one parse this. i’m so confused.

[naggingatlas]

i looove putting spark over songs about like heroes and saving the world (tom cardy's 'level clear', uncle outrage's 'saved the world' <- nice voice hc for him!. and 'my superhero movie'.) when he like. Did. Not : ) funney.

[ssmokyquartz]

there's someone in my new job I'm sure doesn't like me but I have no idea why

[insanechayne]

~ ~ ~

[fastandcarlos]

On The Mend : ̗̀➛ Oscar Piastri

summary: with your lack of presence in the paddock, fans are starting to worry, little do they know that you happen to be a little broken back at home

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by landonorris, danielricciardo and 849,183 others

oscarpiastri: another successful week of racing, super proud of the whole team to get the car all the way to P2 this weekend 🏆🏎️

35,058 comments

username1: congratulations oscar, such an awesome drive!!

username2: just a shame that yn wasn’t there to see it once again 🙄

landonorris: so proud of you osc 😭😭😭

username3: surely they can’t still be together, she hasn’t shown her face in weeks…

charles_leclerc: mum is very proud that the two of us were on the podium btw

oscarpiastri: @/charles_leclerc it was all thanks to her pep talk ofc

username4: we’ll still support you osc even if yn won’t

mclaren: the whole team is so proud of you, congratulations oscar!

username5: enjoy the celebrations, I’m sure the team will be there for you at least 🥲

danielricciardo: congrats brother, always nice to see you repping for down under

username6: either something must be seriously wrong or yn really just doesn’t care anymore 😭

maxverstappen1: hell of a drive from you, great to see you back where you belong!

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ynusername posted two private stories

replies

georgerussell63: thanks for reminding everyone I got a penalty yn 😂😂

oscarpiastri: make sure you’re resting, you don’t need to worry about the race sweetheart!!

ynusername: I’ve never missed a race of yours 😩

danielricciardo: why tf are you in hospital and why didn’t you tell me immediately so that I could help!!

nicolepiastri: sending you lots of love sweetheart, sorry we can’t be there to help you 💕

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oscarpiastri: I promise to sneak you in loads of snacks as soon as I’m there 💞

lilymhe: I miss you so much, hope you’re recovering well girlie

landonorris: he’s on the first flight outta here straight back to you 🧡

carmenmmundt: sending you all the healing vibes in the world ❤️

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liked by charles_leclerc, logansargeant and 812,948 others

oscarpiastri: wish me luck on the flight, some weird passenger keeps looking over their shoulder at me 👀

36,950 comments

username7: that poor pilot having to drive these two home lmao

danielricciardo: now you get to experience my struggle before you came along 😭

oscarpiastri: @/danielricciardo idk how you ever did it 🤦🏻

username8: at least oscar has lando to celebrate with even though others have abandoned him

alex_albon: why else do you think we offered to take you home on our plane instead?! 😂

username9: i wonder if he's going home to yn being there or not

charles_leclerc: you're incredibly brave volunteering to travel home with him 👏🏻

username10: yn should be there with him, i really hope that they're okay

username11: what would we do without these two in our lives!?

maxverstappen1: we tried to talk you out of it but you didn't listen 🤷🏻

username 12: i love how all the boys are exposing lando as a terrible travel partner hahah

landonorris: stop trying to make it sound like we're not bffs osc 💔

oscarpiastri: @/landonorris that's because we're definitely not best friends

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liked by landonorris, alex_albon and 793,722 others

oscarpiastri: seeing as some people want to make it their business, we thought we’d share why yn hasn’t been around recently. a couple of weeks ago she had a nasty fall at home which resulted in a broken leg. yesterday I finally got to bring her home and begin helping her with recovery…just call me doctor piastri from now on 🧑🏻‍⚕️💞

57,492 comments

username13: i hope all you losers who thought they broke up are proud of yourselves 🙄

landonorris: you guys know where i am if you need anything!!

georgerussel63: we love you yn, make sure you get plenty of rest ❤️❤️❤️

username14: sending you so much love yn, get plenty of rest

ynusername: apologies in advance for the lack of sleep you're about to get because of me 😂

oscarpiastri: @/ynusername as long as you're healing idc 🥹

username15: can't believe some of you were so stupid to ever think they'd actually break up

alex_albon: glad to see you're back at home where you belong yn

danielricciardo: do i even want to ask how she managed to break her leg??

oscarpiastri: @/danielricciardo if I told you I don't think you'd believe me 😂

username16: poor oscar looks exhausted having to drive and take care of yn too

charles_leclerc: pls tell me I get to sign the cast ✍️

ynusername: @/charles_leclerc i'll save a spot just for you

username17: please make sure you take care of yourself yn and ignore what everyone has to say

carmenmmundt: sending you so many healing vibes yn, we miss you at the paddock

username18: during a time when they need privacy and instead they've been hounded by nosey idiots 🤦🏻

maxverstappen1: can't wait to see all the doctor piastri content from you! 😂

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liked by georgerussell63, carlossainz55 and 682,058 others

oscarpiastri: the only way to get her out of the house atm is to bribe her with coffee ☕️

63,957 comments

username19: it's adorable how much oscar cares about her 🥰

lilymhe: tell her im omw with coffee as we speak to get her out again!

username20: it's so good to see yn back up on her feet and moving around again 🤩

alex_albon: i actually forgot what yn looked like stood upright for a moment

username21: why does it feel like oscar is one of those partners who is constantly checking on her making sure she's doing her exercises and following every single bit of advice

maxverstappen1: yn's injury is really making you look like the doting boyfriend rn ❤️

danielricciardo: if yn ever gets bored of being entertained on a walk by you, you know where i am!

username22: i bet yn can't wait for race weekend again to get rid of the nagging doctor 😂

landonorris: wish you looked after me as well as you look after yn

oscarpiastri: @/landonorris just a shame that we're not dating then really huh?!

username23: anyone else noticed how many drivers have been round this week to take yn out and make sure she's staying active too

username24: @/username23 i think she might just be the most popular wag on the grid

ynusername: i hate you but i love you at the same time these days 💞

oscarpiastri: @/ynusername if the doctor says you keep moving, it's my job to make you move 😂

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liked by landonorris, carmenmmundt and 59,491 others

ynusername: I always knew oscar was secretly boyfriend coded but damn having him look after me is making me fancy him all over again 🔥

12,056 comments

username25: i think i might've just fallen in love with him all over again too 😍

alexandrasaintmleux: make the most of all of the attention you're getting girl

ynusername: @/alexandrasaintmleux oh I am, he doesn't let me lift a finger 😘

username26: soft, doctor boyfriend oscar might just be my new favourite thing

charles_leclerc: if i see many more of these posts from you i might just need a sick bucket 🤮

username27: yn you really are the luckiest having this guy in your life

carlossainz55: i always knew he was a softie deep down 🥺

oscarpiastri: you know i'd do anything as long as it meant getting you better again

ynusername: @/oscarpiastri you're an angel in disguise i swear

username28: i'd break my leg too if it meant oscar piastri was there to look after me 😂

username29: it melts my heart to see how caring oscar has been over the past few weeks

danielricciardo: even i found myself getting a bit excited when i saw these photos yn

username30: everyone needs an oscar piastri in their life

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ynusername posted two stories

replies

landonorris: you're ruining oscar's image with every post you share these days 😂

oscarpiastri: there's nowhere else that I'd rather be

ynusername: we'll pretend you didn't complain that it wasn't race weekend first thing this morning shall we???

carmenmmundt: hope it's good news, lemme know how you get on!!

alex_albon: praying for you and hoping that it's the beginning of the end now 💕

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danielricciardo: thinking of you guys, tell the doctor if he doesn't give you good news i'll break his leg 💞

ynusername: something tells me you might find a few challenges in doing that hahah

georgerussell63: you're so strong yn, just remember we love you

charles_leclerc: the whole family is hoping for good news for you and oscar ❤️

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liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 70,238 others

ynusername: the moment i've waited for for so long, back in my second home of the garage and back supporting my love during race weekend

14,592 comments

username31: make sure you keep taking care of yourself yn!! 💕

oscarpiastri: cannot begin to tell you how happy i am to have you back with me again ☺️

ynusername: @/oscarpiastri the best feeling in the world being able to cheer you on again

danielricciardo: ik just how much this means to you, welcome back to us yn

username32: it's so good to see you right back where you belong again

username33: it feels like you've never been away, I'm so happy for you guys 🥹

charles_leclerc: on the mend at last, i hope you know just how many people can't wait to welcome you back this weekend

username34: we love our favourite #81 fan 🧡

iamrebeccad: i am hurrying over to that mclaren garage as fast as i possibly can rn ‼️

username35: so happy to see you back on your feet and back with our favourite duo again

username36: this is the content we've been waiting for, it's so good to see you back

landonorris: as much as i hate having to share oscar again, it's a joy to have you back 🙃

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[magnusbae]

The world was on fire and no one could save me but you 🖤

🖤 What a wicked thing to do, 🐇 🐇 to make me dream of you 🖤

🖤 What a wicked thing to say, 🐇

🐇 you never felt this way 🖤

[i-starcreamed]

Hi!, can I get some headcanons of transformers one character being jealous and the reader teases them.

D-16, Orion, Sentinel, Badassatron, and elita.

TF-ONE X READER

I tried to make this silly I'm feeling silly...enjoy

Post includes all of above :3

D-16

Tries to act unaffected by it, but doesn’t make a huge deal

Usually

He’s usually nice about it

Let’s say a bot is being really friendly with you, they’re making you laugh and everything. D sees from the distance, then comes up to you. Placing a servo against the small of your back-frame. “Heyy what’s so funny? I want to hear too :)”

He’s forcing a smile so bad.

He’s harmless, man, he trusts you completely

If another bot is for real flirting with you though, he's going to be so passive-aggressive

It’s more like he wants ur attention lol

If you teased him about it he’s going to deny it so hard

"What? No, no no.. I’m not jealous..pfft"

If you’re extra sweet maybe he’ll admit it

NOO y/n.. I’m funnier than them anyway.. I’m cooler too..

Orion

Don’t get jealous often either

He trusts you, he’s trustful of most bots

He gets jealous when you don't give him enough attention too

You’ll be talking to someone and he’ll just be in the background like,

“I’m..Y/N? Hey I..y/n? Uhm..I'm..right here..”

He’s so awkward, he doesn’t want to be rude to either of you but he’s lonely!!

If you tease him about looking sad when you’re not looking at him all the time, he’ll softly scoff.

"Well...yeah. They were flirting with you.."

sad puppy eyes

"Orion..they were asking me about Sentinels speech yesterday.."

"Oh...sorry."

eughhh

Sentinel

Oh boy

It’s a mix of irritation and jealousy

Why are you looking at someone else! When you can be looking at him!

He might be an attention seeker. He’ll just say things to catch your attention.

“Hey sweetspark, come look at my new paint job!” He calls you over as you're busy talking to someone else, he looks exactly the same btw

If you teased him I feel like he’ll take it way too seriously

“Jealous? What is there to be jealous of?? I’m literally Sentinel??”

But then his insecurity starts

“Wait…do you like talking to them more?”

evil sad puppy eyes

He'll only be content if you feed him compliments. Also erm..never talk to that bot again

#toxic

If he can’t demote the bot he was jealous of, he’ll try to one-up them, otherwise they are FIRED

After he gets over it he’ll be extra affectionate. You also get affectionate when you tease him so maybe it’s not so bad after all

insert makeout session

B-127

Badassatron

He’s definitely a bit attention and touch-starved after being stuck in low levels for who knows how many years

It’s only logical that he’s glued to your side for the rest of your life

If he’s jealous it’s very obvious. He tries to do something to get your attention or awkwardly stands there

Hey y/n look at this! - Does a backflip and falls

Tease him about it and he gets flustered

"Whattt? No, I’m not jealous!" He lets out a cocky laugh

“Ok maybe a little..”

Kiss his faceplate all over and he’s yours

He's definitely the least harmful

If he's jealous about a bot he particularly dislikes or they're flirting with you out and about, he might be more passive-aggressive about it

"Hey don't mean to intrude or anything, but uh, I'm kinda busy with my PARTNER. And by PARTNER I mean we're together. Yeah, uh huh! So, if you don't mind, my PARTNER and I are going to ignore you now. Since we're y'know..busy being together."

Elita

She’s smug about her jealousy, but only you could tell

“No, I’m not jealous. What makes you think that?”

Meanwhile, she’s giving the nastiest glare to the other bot.

“You really need to stop bringing their hopes up. Did you hear the way they were flirting with you?”

“Elita...they were just thanking me."

“Don’t even look at them actually"

If you tease her, she either denies it or is very proud

Like yeah she got a little jealous, she has such an amazing partner and anyone in their right mind would see that too.

Or no..she's definitely not jealous. She's just speaking her mind

[deebris]

From annoying to beloved

Homelander x fem!Reader

Synopsis: The new member of the Seven annoys Captain Patria with their habit of doodling in the corners all the time, but he didn't expect to end up liking it.

During the fourth season, it can be read as both romantic and platonic.

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of murder, the reader has the power to control plasma, fluffy.

The reader is also kind of anxious.

Word count: 2.9k

"You gotta be fucking kidding with me." Homelander interrupted abruptly upon hearing snores in the room. "Is Noir sleeping?"

"Mmhmm," Firecracker murmured in agreement, but the masked superhero jolted awake when The Deep kicked his chair.

"Oh, shit! Sorry, guys." Black Noir straightened up, while the Captain shook his head in disbelief, unable to fathom what he had just witnessed.

"Ah, what the fuck." The blonde furrowed his brows, eyes darting around the room quickly, then fixing on a specific point when something else caught his attention. He had noticed you earlier with a notebook and pencil, but now you're not writing but drawing. The irritating sound of the graphite scraping against the paper had been bothering him for some time, but he had tried to ignore it, assuming as a newcomer you were taking notes.

He wouldn't lie. Though he found taking notes utterly stupid, he liked to think someone was that focused on what he said. Not that he needed it, just opening his lips and everyone would be watching him. But as if that weren't enough, he finally realized you were dressed in regular civilian clothes.

"Radiance, where's your suit?" He asked slowly, but angrily. "Can't anyone do anything right around here?"

You finally tore your attention from the paper, meeting Homelander gaze directly. It's not that you weren't paying attention—in fact, you were, maybe more than anyone else there. It was easier to absorb things while doodling, a way to calm your nerves. Well, that or rubbing your sweaty fingers together until they hurt.

No one ever understood. Even back in school, your parents used to receive complaints about you drawing during class, no matter how high your grades were or the fact that you were the top student.

This was your first meeting with the Seven, and the last thing you wanted was to give the impression of being careless or not caring about being there. It could be said that one of the best days of your life was yesterday when Vought sent you a notice, letting you know that the greatest superhero of all had personally chosen you to join the team. After so many "retarded" - in his words - he had been forced to accept into the Seven, Homelander saw in you, above all, the opportunity to make up for Firecracker's ridiculous weakness.

When Ashley began talking about your powers, he had no doubt the last spot was yours. It was simply brilliant. Who the hell would have imagined someone would have powers to control a state of matter? You could maneuver fire, generate electrical discharges, disrupt magnetic fields, and damn it, you could split atoms as if slicing butter.

Vought's scientists said they didn't know if it was possible, but you could destroy the damn out of a star one day. Homelander wasn't a science guy, but in one of his moments of boredom, he got curious and did some research. He didn't even know that plasma crap was all that, he thought it was a cell thing or whatever.

He always thought someone with a power as peculiar as yours, and at your age, would be arrogant or just plain dumb. But you were actually the complete opposite. You didn't speak unnecessarily, and while you seemed very aware of your own actions, you had no clue how powerful you were, or perhaps ignored that fact. The blonde thought you were an idiot for it, but he appreciated the inferiority you submitted to, especially in relation to himself.

"I don't have one, sir," you replied to his question, feeling small with everyone looking.

"What the hell?" He continued, focusing on you with incredulous voice, he couldn't believe it. How did someone end up here without even having a superhero suit?

The truth was, you had never been part of any team before, nor had you received any sponsorship during your life, or even attended Godolkin University. The only thing you had were your powers, which were indeed impressive. You never chased after any position, nor were you ever obsessed with being a famous superheroine, but lately you thought it would be a good adventure to radicalize your life. That's when you applied to join the Seven.

"How do you have a name and not have a fucking suit?" He asked, boiling with anger, fists clenching tightly behind his back.

"They gave me a name when I filled out the application," you answered honestly. That day, after they chose to call you Radiance, a random and easily commercial name, you couldn't complain much and didn't want to bother, so you left it at that.

"You'll be introduced as an official member of the Seven tomorrow, how do you not have a suit?" He took his hands off his back, moving them as he spoke to express his confusion, and for a few moments you followed it movement like a child who can't keep their attention on anything for long. "Who's handling your marketing?"

You couldn't answer, so you stayed silent and no one else dared to say a word either. You had no idea who was handling your marketing, not knowing you should even have that. You glanced quickly around the table, perhaps seeking some kind of help for the situation, but everyone looked down when they realized you were staring at them. They were enjoying themselves, and that made you exhale through your nose in embarrassment.

"You know what? Fuck it, doesn't matter." Homelander brought his fingers to his furrowed forehead, letting out a loud sigh as he calmed down. "Just... don't show up like this in public until someone gives you a suit."

"Yes, sir," you replied tensely, relieved that he had resolved the matter.

Sister Sage widened her eyes in relief when she finally saw the superhero sitting beside her. She opened her mouth to begin speaking, as she had intended from the beginning, but when some sound was about to come out of her mouth, Homelander spoke to you again, this time pointing an accusatory finger at you:

"And stop drawing, damn it," he ordered, causing you to slowly drop the pencil on the table, as if caught doing something wrong with the weapon of the crime in hand. You stared at your lap throughout the entire meeting, embarrassed for messing everything up on your first day.

When the meeting ended, you followed most people out of the room, but stopped nearby in one of the hallways. You slid down the wall, crouching in a hidden corner, and lightly tapped the sketchbook against your forehead in annoyance.

"Stupid," you murmured softly to yourself. It was so ridiculous, yet it embarrassed you so much. Maybe this first day wasn't so bad after all. You would have plenty of time to prove your worth to everyone, no need to dwell on this situation. Even though you had been corrected in front of some of the most iconic supers by Homelander himself, this situation could be overcome. It was thinking about it that kept you from letting the burning tears fall.

"I can hear you whining," Homelander voice made you jump to your feet, startled to be caught once again doing something you shouldn't. He didn't seem happy, and his expression was so intimidating that you felt like Mariah Carey performing for a crowd of Eminem fans.

He approached you in slow steps and you held the sketchtebook protectively to your chest, as if that could protect you from something. He glanced down to briefly see the object in your hands and looked at you with disgust.

"If you don't straighten up, I'll kick you out. Got it?" Everything about him exuded threat. Maybe if he weren't so imposing and powerful, that sentence would have sounded a bit like the janitor from your old school scolding you for spending too much time in the bathroom during class.

You were paralyzed standing there and all you could do was a nod. But your gesture made him more aggressive.

"Answer with your mouth. Are you mute or something?" And there he was, hands behind his back again. He seemed to enjoy that pose.

"I won't mess up, sir," you said, swallowing your saliva.

"And get rid of that. Or burn it, do whatever, just get rid of it. And I better not see you with that again," he said referring to your notebook, walking away faster than before. "These kids..." you heard him mutter distantly.

After that happened, you didn't destroy the sketchtebook, but you were afraid of being caught and kept it safely tucked away in the back of a drawer in your room. What the eyes don't see, the heart doesn't feel, right? You mentally made a promise to yourself not to use it anywhere else but here, to avoid causing more trouble.

It's been a week since you've been with the Seven, and several strange things have happened. You quickly realized that Homelander wasn't the pristine and merciful hero everyone believed him to be. But the truth was that deep down you already expected that. Everything about heroes always seemed too perfect and pure, there had to be a catch. Despite everything, you still remained yourself, never intentionally hurting anyone or getting involved in murders and conspiracies.

You were comfortable helping out with some minor crimes that Vought sent you to solve, but by now you suspected that sooner or later Homelander would ask you to do some of his atrocities. It was still hard to think about how to feel about it, but you weren't naive, you were already mentally preparing to submit to it or else be killed.

During that time, as you adjusted and interacted with the team, it didn't go unnoticed by Homelander that you were drawing on your own hand, or on napkins and on random sheets you found lying around, even though you hadn't shown up with your sketchtebook again. This was starting to wear on his last nerve, but he tried to ignore it. As long stayed as you were, without asking too many questions and obedient, he made an effort to continue overlooking your makeshift drawings.

"Meeting's over," the blond suddenly declared, interrupting another of the Seven's weekly gatherings while cutting off The Deep's rambling about his ideas.

"But I haven't even talked about the flying shark yet," he tried to defend himself.

"Shut up," Homelander's voice rang out sternly in the room, issuing a warning that the man promptly obeyed.

"Right. Meeting's over." Ashley nervously moved to gather the portfolios on the new soda advertisement she had come to present, but as soon as she touched the first folder, specifically the A-Train one, the superhero exploded in rage:

"Ashley! Get out!" She immediately dropped the folder in place and hurried out in her heels, unable to run in them. "All of you! Get out of here."

Everyone got up from their chairs, even you, and filed out through the front door, leaving the folders on the table. Sister Sage hesitated, thinking she might be an exception, but when his scowl deepened, she understood she should leave too.

With the room empty, Captain Patria took a few minutes to admire the view from the tower. He enjoyed staring at it sometimes, even when bored.

"Bunch of idiots," he muttered to himself, shaking his head in denial, indignant. If he had to spend one more minute with these morons, he would have a heart attack, even though that was technically impossible for him.

He threw his cape back as he turned to leave, looking down and not focusing on anything in particular. But his eyes caught something different from the other folders. It was obviously yours, with a huge drawing covering the text and images printed on it.

That was the first time he actually saw something you had scribbled. And damn, it was perfect. It was a drawing of everyone in the room, with him in the center looking angry. Just as he was. His ego flared up as he noticed that his figure was more detailed than the others'. You must have started drawing him first, hence had more time to detail him. The idea of you making him the main focus of this particular drawing made his pupils dilate. He used his super hearing to check if anyone else was around and secretly took that sheet for himself.

The next time he saw you drawing in the Seven's room, he couldn't help but wonder if you were drawing him again. As soon as he noticed you sneakily reaching for a pen that belonged to Ashley, he looked in your direction. The noise that used to annoy him now sparked curiosity. And after staring at you for so long, it didn't take long for you to look back at him too. The blond thought you would be embarrassed, like most people, but you just grinned as if you were used to being caught looking. And indeed, you were.

You began drawing Homelander more frequently when you realized he never caught you watching him. It was easier and avoided awkward situations with other people. After two whole weeks of drawing him continuously while taking advantage of this freedom, you felt capable of drawing his face without even needing to see a photo, having memorized most of his distinctive features.

Well, it seems he's finally noticed you.

Sometimes, when alone in your room, you took out your sketchbook and started practicing the memory of his facial features you had developed. Just like every other time, you became absorbed in the drawing, focusing only on the voices around you to understand what was being said. This was also a way to keep yourself engaged during conversations, so you wouldn't get restless from being still while being a mere spectator of everything. After all, you never participated much or gave opinions; Deep already did enough for two.

The meeting had already ended, but you stayed in your chair, even as everyone else left, to finish just a part of the hair. You thought no one would mind, and then you would leave as usual, but a voice caught you by surprise:

"Can I take a look?" Homelander asked, for the first time, using a gentle voice beside you. His expression was enigmatic, somewhat relaxed, and shy at the same time.

You turned the stack of post-it notes, also taken from Ashley, for him to see what you had drawn, fearing what he would say. You weren't ashamed of drawing people, much less of them catching you doing it. You feared because he found your habit annoying.

He observed the drawing, seeing his posture from the side, upright and imposing. He wondered if you drew him exactly as you saw him, or if it was just another caricature of reality, like those Photoshopped pictures spread around. He looked much better than he imagined, though he had that superiority complex that made him see himself as a god.

For a moment, he was offended to see his image stamped on such despicable things as scraps of paper and these damn post-it notes. Your fingerprints were also visible stains, and the paper was slightly wrinkled from his sweat. He had noticed that sometimes you drew calmly, as if you had all the time in the world, and other times it was like drawing on a boat in a storm. Today seemed to be the latter situation.

"Do you like drawing me?" He glanced at you.

"I do," you shrugged. That was the simplest and most truthful answer you could give. "Sorry, I won't do it anymore," you said, thinking he was bothered by it.

"Why?" He ignored your apology.

"You're drawable... I guess," you stared at the table, not understanding the flow of the conversation.

"And what the fuck does that mean?" He asked in a louder voice, turning to face you, obviously confused. "Is this some artistic shit?"

"It's just that you're easy to draw because you have unusual characteristics. It's a good thing," was your answer, and it inflated his chest with narcissistic pride. Unusual, that's what you said, but to him, it was like being called extraordinary.

"Next time you draw me, try using a sketchbook," he said sternly, pretending to reject your work, but deep down, he just didn't want to show that he really liked it. That statement was his way of encouraging you to continue, but at the same time, it was so ironic, considering he got mad at you just when you were drawing him in the sketchtebook that day.

"But you asked me to get rid of mine," you said simply, your voice dwindling with each word of the sentence, not wanting him to find out that you had never thrown it away.

"I'll get you a new one," he said dismissively, taking the entire stack of post-it notes with him, including the drawing, as if you wouldn't notice.

[robo-writing]

Logan happy trail. Logan happy trail. Logan happy trail—

You’d never stoop so low as to say you have a favorite part of Logan—he’s your boyfriend after all, you love him for all his faults and features. There isn’t a single thing you could ever definitively point out and say “that’s my favorite.”

However, if you had to choose—

“Christ doll, you’re lookin’ at me like a starving dog,” he says with a smug. “What’s got you so worked up?”

You’ve been waiting for him to come back from training all day, sitting on the couch practically counting the seconds. The training session he just came from must have been intense; shirt off, his entire torso glistening with sweat—his happy trail on full display.

You don’t even pretend to be ashamed, blatantly staring at the lovely trail of hair that starts from his belly and moves further down to where the rest is covered by a pair of low-hanging jeans. You’re forcefully pulled from your ogling, hand at your chin, removing your attention from his beautiful patch of hair to his face.

“Y’know, it’s rude to stare,” He whispers. His eyes hold only bad intentions, and you’re happy to oblige, leaning into his touch.

“Kinda wanna do more than just stare,” you whisper back.

His thumb reaches to stroke your cheek. You enjoy the soft touch, hands wandering closer to his torso to stroke the hair that’s been tempting you since he walked through the door, until he catches them in his own with a shake of his head.

“Baby, you know that’s bad manners,” He lets your face go and hooks his thumbs below his belt line, pulling his jeans down even further, exposing the veins that start to run from his v-line.

“If you want to touch, ask nicely.”

The words leave your lips embarrassingly fast. “Can I touch you? Please?”

Your thighs are rubbing together, hands at your side obediently. When he nods his head you reach forward, sliding your hands across his hot skin, nails scratching lightly with each pass, the softest groans escaping Logan with each touch.

“Good girl,” he praises. “Take what you want.”

Spurred on by his words you pull his pants down, boxers strained by the visible outline of his cock. Feeling mischievous, you place a kiss through the fabric, smile widening as you feel it twitch between your plump lips. He hisses in response, fingers curling around your hair.

“Don’t be a tease, or else I’ll leave you here all by yourself,” he says, tugging your head slightly. “We got a deal?”

You couldn’t say no if you tried, so pent up just the sound of his voice gets you riled up. “Promise, just lemme have a taste, I’ll behave.”

He mumbles something under his breath, tugging himself free. Pretty and pink, his cock in full view, still every bit as beautiful no matter how many times you see it. Your tongue peaks out from your lips, tracing every vein with excitement, a smile on your face as he strokes your hair.

“Just needed a taste, is that it?” He groans, rubbing his shiny tip against your lips. “Just needed your boyfriend’s fat cock in your mouth, didn’t you?”

You moan in response, opening your mouth as he feeds you what you’ve been waiting for. Slowly, gently, your tongue massaging the salty skin, inch by inch. Your hand reaches up to scratch at his happy trail and you can feel his cock twitch in response, a gruff laugh vibrating from his chest.

“Oh fuck me, you’re evil,” he sighs. You give him another scratch in response, enjoying the pre-cum that coats your tongue after.

The size of him never fails to make you work for it, heavy against your tongue as your spit runs down your chin. The sounds you make are lewd, sloppy—his fingers push your head further, forcing you to make more. One hand reaches to fondle his balls, the other still resting against his pubes. The feeling leaves Logan breathless, involuntarily thrusting against the wet heat of your mouth.

There’s only a single thread of self-control stopping him from grabbing your head with both hands and fucking your mouth, and you needed it cut yesterday. You force his hands into your hair, stare up at him with your best bedroom eyes, then lap at his balls.

His reaction is heavenly—eyes rolled back, hips stuttering, stomach sucked in as he calls your name.

“Darlin’ you’re gonna kill me,” he huffs, taking your head in his heads. Your lips return to the head of his cock, suckling at his sensitive tip when his fingers tighten in your hair.

You see his eyes darken, your only warning coming in the form of a command. “Keep your mouth open for me doll.”

Your pussy throbs, tongue unraveled as every inch of him slips past your lips and into your throat. Your eyes roll at the feeling, nose touching that oh-so-divine hair that got you here in the first place.

“Gonna fuck your mouth,” he grunts, “Ready for me?”

You moan your approval around his thick length, then gag as he makes good on his word. Every thrust has your hands bracing against his thick thighs, forced to do everything in your power not to choke. Your eyes water, nose full of his musky scent, drool pooling down your chest so much that it leaves a stain against your shirt.

Your brain is filled with nothing but Logan—his taste, his smell, the sound of his moans—it sends your body into overdrive, grinding against the fabric of the couch as he continues to use you for his own pleasure. You’re almost certain you’re leaving a stain against the pillows.

“Real desperate for it huh?” He hisses, using your mouth as a toy. “Gonna cum just like this ain’t you?”

Your lust-addled brain can’t even begin to form a response, but Logan smiles at your fucked-out expression anyway. He doesn’t need you to confirm what he already knows.

When he comes it’s with a shout, leaving you choking against his cock as you struggle to swallow it all. What you can’t runs from the sides of your mouth, his dick coated in a mix of saliva and seed. You greedily gulp down air, a cock-drunk smile plastered against your features as you kiss at his softening cock, then bury your face and nuzzle again his happy trail, tasting the sweat that lingers. The sticky feeling between your legs makes you think at some point you came, pussy still throbbing with that familiar aftershock.

You look like hell, but damn it if you aren’t satisfied—hair a mess, spit and cum staining your skin, tears running down your cheeks—Logan thinks you’re beautiful like this.

“I know vacuums that got less suction than you, fucking hell,” Logan says, still out of breath from what was most certainly a mind-blowing orgasm. He leans down to kiss at your cum-stained lips, messy and unoriented. “Hope you’re ready for me to return the favor princess, because we ain’t finished.”

[leclercsainzz]

Can I request a reader x wolff one please? where reader and non f1 male were the ultimate couple, so it came as a shock when they broke up. With many people being sad about their split, since they seemed perfect for each other. However recent rumors have surfaced that maybe she might be seeing toto, which causes quite a stir among fans, who are now speculating about the potential new relationship?

NEW ROMANTICS

PARINGS: toto wolff x fem!reader

TYPE: social media au

yourusername

liked by jaredpadalecki, lewishamilton and 567,738 others

yourusername: @vanityfair oscar date night

view 4,748 comments

genpadalecki: 😍 stunning as always!

↳ yourusername: i love youuu 😘

user: can jensen fight?!??

user: MOTHER OMG

user: where’s jen?

user: stunning 😍

user: she does NOT age, i swear 😩

misha: 😃

↳ user: castiel energy frr

user: did jensen go with her??!?

user: mom where’s dad?!???

user: she’s soooo mother, omgg 😍

user: @jensenackles can you fight, bro?

user: lewis, what are you doing here?!?? 👀

user: the definition of MOTHER

user: has anyone noticed jensen hasn’t liked/comment?

↳ user: what are you insinuating??!? 🙄

↳ user: haven’t seen them together for quite a while, actually

↳ user: obviously they won’t be out in public 24/7

user: kindly step on me 😩

user: did her and jensen break up or something?!? 😭😭

user: anyone else noticed the mercedes boys in the likes?

user: 😍😍 gorgeous!

user: jensen’s one lucky ass mf 😩

user: waiting for jensen’s comment and like

user: ATE and left NO CRUMBS

sofiavergara: 😍 wow

user: mother is mothering 😍

user: why are ppl saying her and dad are broken up?!!?

user: 😍😍😍😍 goddess

jensenackles

liked by jaredpadalecki, misha and 788,825 others

jensenackles: a little bts of yesterday’s photo shoot

view 5,736 comments

user: the man that you are, oml 😮‍💨

user: the fact that yn’s getting this everyday 😭😭

user: they’re still together right?!!??

jaredpadecki: 😘

user: so fine

user: apparently he might be single again sooooo 😏

user: he’s fine and he knows it

user: WHAT A MAN 😍😍

↳ user: indeed 😩

user: are yn and jensen still together?!??!??

↳ user: of course, why wouldn’t they be?!?

↳ user: there’s been rumors going on about them breaking up

↳ user: they better not be true 😭 wtf

user: why are people saying jensen and yn broke up??!?

user: father of my kids (im kidding) (im not)

user: aged like fine wineeeee 😮‍💨

↳ user: he gets sexier each year 😍

user: SEXIEST MAN ALIVE

user: @yourusername is so luckyyy

↳ user: supposedly, they broke up 🤷🏻‍♀️

↳ user: sAy SIKE RN

user: how can i get his attention? 😩

user: another day another slay

user: finest man ever 🥵

user: that’s my dean winchester

user: i need to know if mom and dad are still together or not

↳ user: girl, frrr 😭😭 it’s been weeks

user: where’s yn??!?? she hasn’t liked nor commented 🤨

user: sirrrrrr 😍

user: so sexyyyy of him

yourusername

liked by lewishamilton, evalongoria and 600,839 others

yourusername: life lately

view 5,746 comments

user: YN A MERCEDES FAN?!!??!???

| liked by yourusername

user: is thAt toto wolff?!??

user: gorgeous 😍

user: missing dad hours 😓

↳ user: we’re ALL going through it right now:’(

user: mercedes?! lewis liking all her post?!? tell me u all see it?

↳ user: we all see it, i assure you 👀

genpadalecki: gorgg 😍

↳ yourusername: ❤️

mercedesamgf1: thanks for coming, pretty lady 😘

↳ user: ADMIN?!!??? WHAT IS THIS?!!?

↳ user: lewis is definitely behind all this, i just know it

user: WHERE’S JENSEN???? 😭😭😭

user: lewis is great and all but jensen?!!?!?

user: can we talk about toto’s back? 😩

↳ user: she really got the best angle

user: who got you smiling like that? 🤨

user: the most beautiful woman ever, i swear

ruthie_connell: 😍😍😍 beautiful!

user: get back with jensen, please 🙏🏼

user: please tell me you’re dining with dad in the 5th slide

user: your beauty is unreal 😩

user: wait— who’s lewis?!!?

↳ user: formula one driver

↳ user: 8x world champion

↳ user: 7* but okay 🙄

user: mother 😍

user: yn being a mercedes fan is everything to me

user: mad i didn’t see her at the race 😭😭

yourusername

liked by realmarksheppard, pierregasly and 679,738 others

yourusername: 💗

tagged: @genpadalecki

view 4,846 comments

user: tHAT DOES NOT LOOK LIKE LEWIS?

user: who is that?!??

jaredpadalecki: @genpadalecki 😍

↳ yourusername: our wife’s gorgeous, isn’t she, moose?

↳ user: nOt moose 😭

user: that ain’t lewis?!??

user: i’m just going to pretend that’s jensen for my sake

user: missing jensen:((((

user: her friendship with gen is everything

user: gen and yn are the female version of sam and dean

feliciadays: beautiful ladies 😍

user: and everyone thought it was that hamilton guy LMAO

user: still not over her and jensen 😭😭 they were perfect

user: MOM, WE WANT DAD BACK 🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲

user: anyone else think that looks like toto wolff??

↳ user: tHat’s what i Said!

misha: thanks for the invite btw 🙂

lewishamilton: 👀

↳ user: sIR, wHAT DO YOU KNOW?!??!?

↳ user: mind sharing with us??

carmenmmundt: 😍😍😍 gorggg

user: IS SHE DATING TOTO?!!?!????

user: lewis AND george liked? 👀

↳ user: even gasly’s nosy ass liked

↳ user: that’s why his forehead so big 😭 he knows it allllll

user: her side profile, omg 😍😍

user: he definitely screams toto wolff

user: idk who this wolff guy is but i want jensen back

user: her and jensen were supposed to be endgame 😭😭

user: ngl but her and toto would definitely make a cute couple

user: i love how everyone just assumes she’s with toto now

yourusername

liked by georgerussell63, sofiavergara and 687,863 others

yourusername: ft a small photo dump

view 6,527 comments

user: THAT BACK LOOKS SO FAMILIAR

user: tHat’s TOTO OMG

user: toto?!?!?? 😮

genpadalecki: my loveeee 😍

↳ yourusername: 😘 love yaaa, girlfriend

user: oooh to be yn

user: ynjensen is really over 😞😞

user: toto, that’s a nice back you’ve got;)

user: toto’s one lucky mf

user: I MISS JENSEN 😭😭😭

user: yn, babe, this ain’t you, get back with dad

user: that’s a hot back

user: lordddddddd 😍

user: TOTO?!!??

user: mother 😍

user: IS THAT TOTO, OMG?!??

↳ user: yessss

lewishamilton: 👀

user: ariana (lewis) what are you doing here?

georgerussell63: nice back there, mate

comment has been deleted

user: we saw thAt comment george

user: toto is so fine omg 😩

user: my man is so fine

user: her side profile is everything

user: oNE CHANCE, YN, PLEASE 🙏🏼

user: toto’s soo lucky huh? 😭😭

user: did anyone else see george’s comment?!?!?

↳ user: what comment???

user: MOM MOM MOM MOM

user: you cannot tell me that isn’t toto

user: his back bro 🥵

user: what about jensen???? 😭😭😭

yourusername

liked by lewishamilton, pierregasly and 678,629 others

yourusername: life lately <33

view 6,510 comments

user: “life lately” and post THE TOTO WOLFF?!! 😮

user: bitcH OMG

user: yn pulls the hottest men ever 😩

↳ user: nah frr — first jensen now toto??

user: idk if i want to be yn or be with her

user: can i be your sugar baby?

mercedesamgf1: finest couple ever! 😮‍💨

↳ user: admin— you’re so real for this omg

↳ user: admin knows what’s up

user: can toto fight?

↳ user: can’t fight for a championship that’s for sure

mercedesamgf1: the boss says you’re gorgeous

↳ user: GIVE THIS PERSON A RAISE FOR THEIR HARD WORK

genpadalecki: wifeee 😍

↳ yourusername: love yaaaaa 🫦

user: nooo, i miss jensen 😭😭

user: i KNEW IT I KNEW IT I KNEW IT

user: okay but how did toto bag her??? like come on

user: gorgeous ladyyy 😍

ruthie_connell: 😍😍😍

user: nOt pierre being in the likes

↳ user: loves the gossip lmao

jensenackles: @misha @jaredpadalecki told you

↳ user: DAD?!! WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?!!

↳ user: told them what?!!?

↳ yourusername: 😭 leave me alone, i love my chocolate

↳ jaredpadalecki: it’s always the chocolate

↳ genpadecki: chocolate is addicting okay

user: JENSEN COMMENTED?!???

↳ user: glad to know they ended on good terms 😩

user: yn, you’re sooo gorgeous

user: the woman that you are, omggg 😍

user: mother frrr

user: they make such a hot couple

user: yntoto 😮‍💨

user: i just need to know you and jensen are still friends

↳ yourusername: always <3

lewishamilton: gorgeous - toto wolff

lewishamilton: i don’t have instagram - toto wolff

↳ yourusername: text me, love 😘

↳ user: please this is so cute

user: nOt the sign off by toto himself 😭😭

christianhorner: 🫡

[whateveriwant]

The 141 in a reverse harem

18+ content, GN!Reader, Reader is the ruler of an ancient kingdom

Soap

The moment you step into their communal quarters, Soap is always the first one to greet you, almost Iike he was sitting right beside the door

But nooooo, don't be silly. Of course he's not been impatiently waiting since your last visit. Though, you were 28 and ¾ minutes later than normal, not that he's been counting or anything

As you walk around their dwelling deciding on who to take back to your chambers for the night, he's following closely behind like a little horny whiny puppy

More than once, he's accidentally stepped on your robes because of just how close he likes to trail after you

Oh, but he's so terribly sorry! Here, let him make it up to you! Please, please let him make it up to you!

Because he tries to hog the limited time you spend with the men, it's earned him more than a few elbows to the ribs from his biggest “rival” in the group: Gaz. And speaking of which…

Gaz

Always trailing a little less desperately closely behind is the newest member of the harem: Gaz

Though he may be the youngest of the four, that doesn't mean he's any less experienced in these types of matters (and the young ones are always the most eager to please, aren't they)

Have you had a good day, darling? He knows you're very busy running a kingdom and all, so he for one is grateful you've taken time out of your hectic schedule to visit them

Oh, but your shoulders look so tense, darling! He can rub them for you if you'd like

And your poor feet! Those sandals of yours look awfully uncomfortable. Why doesn't he head back with you so he can show your full body the love it deserves

While he and Soap can't help but bicker when it comes to vying for your attention, on the rare occasion, the two have been able to put aside their differences and work together, if you know what I mean

Price

Unlike the two younger men, Price feels no need to fight for your time

No, he knows you'll eventually make your way over to him, swaying your hips in that way that makes him salivate like a dog

As the oldest and the longest resident of the group, he's become somewhat of a right hand of yours; almost like a concubine turned consultant, if you will

While of course he loves nothing more than to get down to the nitty gritty with you, these talks of yours are truly the highlight of his day even when they're entirely polite in nature

Why yes, he has done something different with his beard, thank you for noticing. He got some new oils from the market yesterday. Do you like it? Isn't it soft? Just wait until you feel it between your thighs

No matter who you're taking to your bed for the evening, Price always escorts you to the door of their quarters, leaving you with a kiss to the hand goodbye. Until next time, starlight

Ghost

Last but certainly not least is the man you have the most… interesting dynamic with, to put it one way

It's funny, really. He likes to pretend the sweet taste of you doesn't haunt his every waking moment, and you like to pretend that there was anyone else on your mind the second you walked through the door

But oh, he sees that you've arrived yet again... Well, this book of his is super interesting, so he's just going to sit in the corner and read, and absolutely not watch you out of the corner of his eye

What was that? No, he's not holding it in his lap for any reason. And no, his pant legs aren't shorter than normal. Why would you think that?

Oh, but the moment you hold your hand out for him, he has to stop himself from immediately tossing the dumb book aside and hauling you over his shoulder like some sort of rabid beast

Instead, he takes his time standing from his seat, almost indifferent as he takes your hand and lets you lead him back to your chambers

It's all a farce though, of course. Nothing makes his pride swell more than having you scream his name for the whole palace to hear, echoing all the way back to where the three other men are left to sit and mope

[gladiatorcunt]

🎾 - #LOVE ON THE FLOOR !!

cw: unrealistic public sex on a tennis court 💀 (it’s nighttime and no one else is there), college era, afab reader, gross friends to lovers, strip tennis, soft dom!art x inexperienced!reader, vaginal fingering + titfucking + brief analingus (afab reader receiving), implied (soft) obsession & toxicity like art would marry you tomorrow, teasing (towards reader), nipple sucking (m receiving), art putting in overtime to hit on oblivious!reader, reader is so comically unaware pls just roll with it and suspend your disbelief, mandatory Patrick™️ mention, 3.5k of pure need, art’s so horny in this like 😔 (+subtle implications of him either being a manwhore or a porn addict, as a little treat), lowkey canon typical mind games, unedited

this was requested by a bot looking blog that i had to block but the idea still slapped! combined with an ask for inexperienced reader

Art Donaldson sees your instagram story that’s only a repost of a Ethel Cain song and tries not to click his heels together. It’s not like he’s happy you’re clearly going through something, but if the story is a result of what he thinks it’s a result of… then he’ll comfort you through it however he can. With his words, his tongue, babying you in the bath and washing your hair, etc. Just getting to be intimate with you at all is an opportunity he’d never turn down.

Suddenly you’re bursting into Art’s dorm like a bat out of hell, tears dotting your waterline and lower lip wobbling. His heart lurches and leaps in equal measures, his backwards cap feels like it constricts around his head as he resists the urge to fidget with it.

“He… he didn’t show up!”

Art shoots up and gets off his bed, rushing to you and rubbing his hands up and down your arms, “What are you talking about?”

He gives you a lingering hug and passes you some of your favorite fast food that he always keeps in the little fridge in his dorm. Somehow knowing that it’d be just what the doctor ordered, you’re so lucky to have such a caring friend. You two haven’t left each other’s side since you bumped him on the first day of class, bringing a clice to life by spilling your coffee all over his polo. Sometimes you still lie awake at night and cringe at yourself, trying to assure yourself that he’s stuck around your awkward ass for a reason.

You’re hiccuping through your story while munching on your chicken sandwich, “Mark acted so exicted yesterday, and now he’s stood me up. I waited in front of the café for an hour, people were staring…”

Art eyes you from his position on the bed, crowding against you due to the size and having half of his torso glued to your back. He doesn’t giggle at the adorable way you get frustrated when the pickle in your sandwich always slides out in between your teeth during a bite, but he thought about it! He reaches up and brushes his fingers against your hair, wanting to just touch it more than move it.

“I don’t know what to tell you, he’s an idiot and you’ll move on. It’s not like he’s the only person in the world.” He grumbles, not quite pouting as he hooks his chin on your shoulder.

“Okay now you’re just grumpy because I beat you at uno.” You tease, gesturing to the scattered pile of brightly colored cards on the bed.

He’s definitely made you feel better though, he always does. You both finish your food and Art stands up from the bed to grab his tennis bag. He pulls you up too and winks, saying that you can’t beat him at everything. You ask what he’s doing and he only grins, telling you to come with him. You nervously glance around as you’re pulled to race through the halls to the court. There’s a simmering feeling weaving in and out of your tightly intertwined fingers.

divider

Art lets go of your hand to drop his bag on the ground, leaving your palm feeling strangely cold without his warmth.

You’re still not sure you should even be out here, you know that you’re definitely not allowed but Art seems to sense your hesitation because he rushes towards you and cups your hands in his.

“Hey, it’s okay. You’re not gonna get in trouble or anything, y’know that?” He chuckles, gently knocking the tip of his nose against yours. “Look up for me, the moon’s really pretty tonight.”

You follow his lead and tilt your head back to gaze up at the goregous crescent moon high in the oil colored sky. You don’t notice that he’s looking at you instead, that he doesn’t say that the moon reminds him of you but he feels like the one orbiting around you instead of the other way around. Luckily there’s not a cloud in sight, just a floating city of stars with a glowing center. Art lightly pulls on your wrists, clearly wanting your attention back on him, so you comply.

You’re not the sharpest knife in the drawer, but you don’t miss the odd glint in his eyes as he narrows them slightly.

His eyelids crinkle as he smiles charmingly, “Don’t you trust me?”

You answer with your heart, “Yes, of course I do.”

He beams at you and explains the rule of the game he dragged you all the way out here to play. It’s just like a regular game of tennis so you really shouldn’t sweat it, he says. His expression shifts when he makes a show out of being unable to look you in the eye when he tells you the special rules, knowing full well you can see him try to tamper down a self satisfied laugh. Whoever scores gets to pick whatever piece of clothing the other takes off, and the loser of the game has to get completely naked if they aren’t already.

Your cheeks warm and you gawk at him, “Isn’t it weird that you’ll see me… like that?”

“So you already know you’re gonna lose, huh? And it’s not like i haven’t seen most of it before.” Art laughs, not bothering to hide the blush on his face. “You’ve seen all of me, anyway.”

It’s true, you usually laze around in nothing but your underwear and that’s been the norm for you two. Art’s no different, he’ll change in front of you and will literally walk around butt naked around your dorm. More often than not, he’ll answer the door in only a towel around his waist and sitting on his hip bones, no matter if it’s one of your other friends or a project partner. You're constantly having to text the other because you forgot that you left your toothbrush behind. You’ve never had a chance to be embarrassed by it. It’s been like that for the longest time and anytime you’ll tell Art that your friends keep asking if he’s your boyfriend, he’ll just reassure you that you guys are just really close. And isn’t that a good thing?

“Besides, I think this’ll help get you out of your shell.”

You’re embarrassed at the reminder of how inexperienced you are. Sure, you shouldn’t have a whole thing about it or whatever, but it just is kind of alienating from other people your age to not be able to say you’ve done what they’ve done. And you would’ve been able to have some stories of your own if you could manage to hold down a date. But tonight isn’t supposed to be about you wallowing, you’re supposed to be having fun. Even if the sight of your best friend in tight fitting sporty clothes makes your pussy throb.

divider

You giggle nervously when he comes up behind you and wraps his arms around you, swaying you from side to side before moving his grip up to your arms.

“Relax, i’m just checking your form. Being close to you is just a bonus.” He winks and presses his stomach up against your back.

It’s so cheesy, the situation and the pose. But you lean into his touch and pretend to care about how he’s showing you the right way to hold a racket and all that, he doesn’t even really care if he’s being honest. It’s romantic though, and he can’t resist the opportunity to get a taste of what it’d be like to pin your body down with his weight. He guides you through a few “practice” swings and then throws a two finger salute at you as he jogs around the net to his side of the court.

It’s your serve, and despite you being very much a beginner, you get the first point.

Art stands there expectantly, cocking his head to the side and bouncing on his heels in anticipation. You honestly didn’t consider that you’d actually be telling your best friend to take off his clothes for you, but you’re new thing is taking shit in stride, you guess.

“So, what’s it gonna be?” He shouts and hovers his fingers around the collar of his polo, ready for you to say the word.

You take the coward’s way out, “Your shoes.”

Art frowns but obeys the rules, swiftly unlacing his sneakers and tossing them to the side. The court’s not so rough that it’d be hell on his feet, but he’d do it for you even if it was all a bunch of jagged rocks cobbled together. The game goes on with Art scoring the next point, and then the one after that. He has you discard your necklace, one of those cheesy half heart ones that matches with one he has, and your shoes as well. He doesn’t wanna scare you off, but he knows what he wants to have you take off for him.

You score the next time, down goes his pants. Without them, few things are left to the imagination. Every time he’d walk around you naked you’d always keep your face firmly glued to your phone or something. But being faced with the very… detailed outline of his bulge through his underwear, that’s another thing entirely. It looks so long against his thigh it might as well be a third leg. There’s already a little wet spot where the tip must be.

You must’ve been taking too long to ogle him, because Art yells at you to “Focus on the game, yeah?”

You’re lucky it’s not a cold night when he gets the next point and has you take off your pants, which are really just glorified shorts. You unfasten them and shimmy them down your legs, letting them pool around your ankles and kicking them away from you. You haven’t shaved today, but you know that Art doesn’t care about that sort of thing. He’s made sure to tell you as much many times when you complain about how much your back hurts after you get done with it.

Art takes his sweet time dragging his gaze down your legs, already imagining bringing them around his waist or over his shoulders. Your panties are so cute too, cupping your pussy so closely that he can see the shapes of your puffy lips from all the way on the other side of the court, a “camel toe” or whatever you call it. He thinks it’s so hot, but you’re shy about it, asking him to see how you look in jeans that are a size too small. He always does a thorough inspection.

Whoever scores next wins the game, and you’re too busy trying not to fall on your ass to put any effort into it. It’s not a real game away, and besides, it’s not like anything has to happen when the loser completely undresses. Out of the corner of your eye you see Art’s dick twitch in his briefs and you get so distracted that you freeze and miss the neon yellow-green ball hurtling past you. Art whoops and cheers as you process the fact that you lost.

“You know what that means.” Art grins from ear to ear. “Make a show out of it for me.”

divider

You don’t even mind the staring, it’s such a common thing that you’d be more pissed off if he wasn’t looking at you at all. The way his eyes devour every inch of bare skin and drop of sweat that you earned during the game. You pull your tank top up and over your head, leaving you in just your bra and panties. Your bra isn’t a frilly thing, you wear it mainly for support, but Art can’t seem to tear himself away from the view of your pushed up tits rising and falling as you breathe.

You…. don’t know what to do now, the big appeal of the game is over, you awkwardly laugh it off and bend over to pick up your clothes. Art shakes his head to snap himself out of his horny fever dream and races over to you, latching onto your wrist and stopping you from getting dressed again.

“You’re supposed to take it all off, remember?”

You drop your clothes, noticing that he still doesn’t let you go.

Heats fills your cheeks as he steps closer, delicately sliding his fingertips up the inside of your arm and around your back. He plays with the hook of your bra, gazing down at you with a look full to brim with unknown intent and purpose. He doesn’t do something as bold as unlatching it right out the gate, no, he just stares into your soul.

“I remember.” Your eyes drop down to his lips, and that’s when you know it’s over. “Can’t exactly do it myself if you’ve already got one foot in the door.”

You’ve gotta know when to fold ‘em, and all that.

Art softly smiles and loops his fingers under your bra strap. You have to remind yourself to breathe, but you don’t really get much of a chance to. Before you can stop yourself and think with your head, you’re canting up to press your lips to his. Art immediately kisses you back, chuckling into the kiss when you gasp as he expertly unhooks your bra with one hand.

In the blink of an eye, you’re flat on your back on the court, Art having hastily thrown his shirt under you while you were tangling your tongues together. He presses an array of wet open mouthed kisses down your body, paying extra special attention to the trimmed patch of hair at the top of your mound.

“Smells so good, ‘s cute, too. It figures you’d have the prettiest pussy I've ever seen.” He coos, dragging a lone finger down your slit before gently pushing it inside.

You gasp, wrenching your eyes shut tight at the intrusion. He takes good care of you, slowly sinking his finger in to the knuckle and sliding it in and out of you. He gradually adds more fingers as the minutes pass. Your walls throb around him, and if Art were a weaker man (like the guy you almost went out with) he would’ve said fuck it and plunged his dick into your cunt in one smooth stroke. But you deserve the best first time possible, and all the distractions he’s used have helped him be patient enough to refrain from humping you like a dog.

“You’re okay, you can take it. It’s nothing compared to what this pussy’s going to be taking later anyway, baby.” He hums and nuzzles his nose into where your inner thigh meets your mound.

As he’s languidly thrusting his fingers into your puffy pussy, Art strains his neck to lap at your ass. He holds one of your fat cheeks in his free hand and spreads you open, diving in to suck on the puckered hole between them. He sharpens his tongue and jabs it into your ass, his cock throbs when you let out the sweetest little squeals at the squelching and throaty noises he’s making. He can feel your hole unfurling with every slurp and suck, something that only makes him increase the speed of his long fingers in your pussy, maintaining a breathtaking steady rhythm.

Eventually his poor leaking cock can’t take anymore grinding into the ground, so Art crooks his fingers and (albeit a bit cruelly) jams them into your sweet spot. The velvet grip of your pussy strangles his digits like a dream, you’d take dick so beautifully. Your eyes fly open and your throat spasms around a mangled moan. He pulls his fingers out of your soaking wet pussy, smirking up at you as he sucks them try like a professionally trained whore. Your clit receives a loving kitten lick as an apology for neglecting it, and with that Art hovers over you at an even eye to eye level again.

“Holy shit…” You pant and flick his pebbled nipples, absentmindedly rolling them around with your thumb. “Are we really doing this?”

“Yeah, we are.” Art sighs, his head falls back as you duck down to suck his nipples into your mouth, the saliva you lathered them with dripping down your chin. He grabs the back of your head and pushes your face into his chest, arching his back.

“Relax, I bribed security and told them to fuck off for the night.”

That doesn’t concern you as much as it should, you’re too transfixed on Art wrenching your mouth off of his pecs and moving to straddle your chest.

“Can you push them together for me?” He breathes hard and grinds his weeping cock against your tits, mesmerized by how his precum makes your skin glisten.

“Oh, fuck.” He groans when you do, making quick use out of the delicious new friction the little pocket provides. “Thanks, honey.”

You keep staring at the tip of his dick, loving the little peek you get of it as he fucks your tits and it pokes your chin. You don’t even realize you’re doing it but you let your mouth hang open, angling your head down so his cockhead pecks your tongue at the end of every thrust. You make sure to lick every drop of pre cum away as it oozes out of him, looking so nice against the flushed pink skin of his tip. Art groans when he finally summons the strength to watch you do it, the sight hurtling him over the edge before he has the time or vocal ability to warn you.

His thick load jets out to land all over your tits, half of it on the lower half of your face. You’re almost sad it didn’t get high enough to clump your lashes together, it would’ve made for the perfect contact picture. Oh well, maybe next time. It’s amazing, the switch you’ve made from the shy friend to the writhing slut underneath him. You blame it on the honest to God sweet taste of his milky white cum, surprisingly making you think of the pineapples he always snatches from your plate when you eat at school together.

(Another painstaking effort made just for you, love)

It’s a miracle you get back to his dorm, some of your clothes are swapped and put on incorrectly and you both didn’t clean up at all. As soon as you reach the door, Art practically shoves you inside and onto the bed. He gets so frustrated with having to get your clothes off again that he just rips them right off of you, promising to take you to the mall tomorrow (or whenever he lets you leave the bed) to buy replacements. You literally couldn't care less if he shackles you to the wall, you need him to rearrange your guts so badly, you’d kill for it. Should you be having deep conversations about your feelings and what the future will look like? Absolutely, but your clit is clouding your sense of rationality and you don’t mind that right now.

“Do you even know how much i’ve wanted this? To fuck you so hard that we end up attached at the hip?” He bites, breaking away from your lips to suck bruises down the column of your throat. “We can have a baby- please have my baby, fuck!”

There’s something so weirdly romantic about the leftover scent of the court combined with the twinkling stars outside. Art’s moans and hands scrambling to pin you down so all you have to do is take it, you’re doing things all out of order, but this was always going to happen sooner or later. Art is a clumsy manipulator but he’s so handsome… you find yourself agreeing to every frantic declaration flying out of his mouth as he spears his long cock into your sopping wet pussy. You claw red lines into his shoulders and back, and Art nearly creams on the spot. The sting and the fact that you’re so out of it, you’re marking him up, are crossing the wires in his brain. His taut thighs burn with the effort of fucking you so far into the mattress.

You’ll get to cum four more times than he does, and by the end of it you’ll wish you never came at all. Your soul’s goikg to be so far away from your ruined mess of limbs that you won’t notice the sacred promises being muttered into your sweaty hair or pay attention to your phone being out on Do Not Disturb. You’ll be right where you should be, inevitably molded around the shape of his dick and branded by all the love bites that litter your body. You’ll think you passed out during most of them, but you’ll give him a loopy smile, hook your pinky around his, and let yourself melt away.

It feels as if your walls are still clenching around a dick that’s no longer buried to the hilt in them.

“I love you”’s are for early mornings with coffee and pancakes. Gloating to Patrick will be for hours before then, Art blocking him when you’re deep asleep and unable to mend the growing rift between them.

[atlabeth]

take my breath away

pairing: spencer reid x reader

summary: you help spencer train for his fitness exam. he kind of just wants to kiss you.

a/n: some fluff (and something short) after i broke my own heart (and my brain) in my last hotch fic! i’m truly in my criminal minds era. enjoy

wc: 1.3k

warning(s): reader is a runner so im sorry to my unathletic friends. but this is all fluff

“Spence,” you said, unable to bite back your smile, “how are you this bad at running?” 

“I’m—” he held up a finger as he caught his breath and shook his head. “I’m not bad at running. My form… is perfect.” 

“We barely made it a mile in,” you said, and you chuckled as he keeled over, his hands on his knees. “It can’t be that perfect.” 

“It is,” he insisted, on the edge of wheezing. “I’m just unathletic.” 

“You never did sports as a kid?” 

“I graduated high school at twelve,” Spencer breathed. “I was too busy studying. Reading. Doing anything other than sports.” He looked at you and shook his head. “And I’m not crazy like you.” 

Your smile only grew. “You should put your hands over your head. It helps get more air in.” 

“That’s actually a rumor.” He shook his head again. “When you raise your arms, muscles that contribute… to the bucket handle movement of your ribs—” He heaved a sigh, his brows furrowing, and again, you held back a smile. You were sure this was one of his only weaknesses. “—they’re not able to function properly.” 

“Alright, genius,” you said, mockingly but with love. “Recover however you like. You clearly need it.” 

Spencer pouted as he straightened up, his whole face contorted in discomfort. When your boyfriend asked you to help him train for his upcoming fitness test, you didn’t think much of it—you got a full ride through college because of track, and you keep healthy with morning runs, so you were happy to help. 

You’d thought about straight up offering a myriad of times—mostly after bearing witness to his attempts at running in the field. One time, the two of you were paired up to do some interviews, and it ended in a chase. By the time Spencer caught up, nearly dying on the sidewalk, you already had the unsub subdued and cuffed. 

(It took him a while to live that down with Morgan.)

Spencer was gifted at other things, sure—not just everyone is a classified genius with an eidetic memory, and he’s the youngest recruit in history—and you loved him more than anything. But you couldn’t not make fun of him, just a little bit. 

His face was still red, his glasses fogging up a bit from the humidity, and his hair was a mess, so you moved closer in order to brush the stray strands out of his face. 

“Running isn’t my thing,” he said. “Well— fitness isn’t my thing. I’ve got everything else covered.” 

“Oh yeah?” You started smoothing back the strands of his hair, and you offered a crooked smile. “Then why are we out here trying to improve your mile time?” 

“Because it would be nice if Gideon doesn’t have to get all my fitness stuff waived again, and if I want that, I need the help.” His eyes didn’t leave yours, and once you finished, your hands lingered on his cheeks. You nudged his glasses back up to their spot. “And I think I’d run a marathon and die trying if it meant I got to spend more time with you.” 

Your eyebrows rose. “If you want to run a marathon, I could probably get you there. It would take a lot of time together, though.” 

“Please, no,” Spencer breathed. “Just the time together part.” 

You grinned, and you patted him on the cheek before you pulled away. “Running is good for the soul. Why do you think I’m so happy all the time?” 

“Well, this morning you said you were happy because of me,” he said. “Yesterday, it was because we had our first case-free weekend in two months. The other day—” 

“That coffee I had?” you interrupted. 

He nodded. “How’d you know?” 

“Because you made it for me,” you said, “and I love it when you do that.” 

Spencer shrugged. “You do it all the time for me. It’s only fair.” 

“But that’s proof,” you said. “Running does make you happy.” 

“Running does release endorphins, but anyone who likes it is crazy,” he repeated. 

“That doesn’t sound scientifically backed.” 

“The way I feel right now beats science,” Spencer huffed. “And you’re not happy all the time. You frowned 23 times while writing up your last report.” 

You raised your eyebrows. “You were watching me? And counting?” 

He shrugged. “You’re nice to watch.” 

“Very smooth, Dr. Reid,” you said cloyingly. “But flattery won’t get you out of this.” 

“I’m not trying to get out of anything!” he defended. You stared at him, and he held up his hands. “Okay— only halfway. But you are nice to watch. That’s why I’m still here.”

“If you’re watching me while we run, that might be why you’re doing so badly,” you said, amused. 

“No—I think it’s the only thing keeping me going.”

“You don’t really look like you’re still going,” you said wryly. “You should be good at this. You’ve got long legs.” 

Spencer shook his head as he screwed his eyes shut. He let out one last breathy sigh, and you hoped he’d finally recovered. “Also largely a rumor. It’s more about leg strength compared to bodyweight—long legs help with lengthy strides, but you need to generate enough torque to move faster than with shorter legs.” 

You smiled. “You’ve still got facts? Even while you’re dying?” 

“Mostly because Elle’s said it before too. She says I look like a baby giraffe learning how to walk when I run.” Spencer shook his head again. “I think the only thing my height is good for is getting things off of shelves.” 

For once, you tried to reign in your joking. “Is there anything I can do to help? I don’t want this whole thing to be miserable for you. Running should be fun.” 

“We can stop doing this?” he suggested. “I can let go of what’s left of my pride, get all my fitness stuff waived again, and go back to figuring out cases in an air conditioned conference room?” 

You smiled, and you moved closer. “How about this?” 

Spencer opened his mouth to say something, but you pulled him in for a kiss by the front of his shirt, effectively cutting him off. He hesitated for less than a split second, but his hands fell to your waist as he brought you in closer. 

When you let go and moved away, he still had them there, and he was smiling like an idiot. 

“Does that help?” you asked innocently, tilting your head. 

“Yeah,” Spencer said, nodding rapidly. “Uh— yeah. I actually think I could go for another mile now.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh as you ruffled his hair, messing up your earlier work. “I’d love to test that, pretty boy, but I don’t think you can make it another mile.” 

Spencer shook his head. “If you keep kissing me like that, I think I can make it through that marathon you mentioned.”  

“Sure I don’t take your breath away too badly?” you teased. 

“I have some facts for that, but I don’t think they apply.” His lips curved up, and the redness from exertion mixed with his steadily rising blush. “Because you, uh— you did take my breath away the first time I saw you.” 

“I should start calling you loverboy with material like that,” you mused. “Morgan’s annoyed that I took pretty boy from him.” 

Spencer grimaced. “Just thinking of Morgan seeing me like this makes me want to get back at it. I can’t deal with any more of his teasing.” 

“But my teasing’s okay?” 

He frowned. “Of course. It— it’s kind of why I fell for you.” 

“Ah,” you nodded. “That’s why you’re still at this. You don’t like things being handed to you.” 

His cheeks darkened again, and you laughed as you leaned in to peck him on the lips one more time. 

“Alright, loverboy,” you said. “Ready to get back at it?” 

“No,” he said affirmatively. “But I don’t really have a choice, do I?” 

“Not if you want to pass,” you said wryly, and you gestured back at the trail with your head. “But you know what they say—one step at a time.” 

Spencer grumbled, and he shook his arms out again. “Fine. As long as those steps are with you.” 

You smiled. “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.” 

[keikikait]

can you do something really angsty for rafe please. like one where they might not end up together:(

ᴅʀᴜɴᴋ ᴡᴀʟᴋ ʜᴏᴍᴇ (ʀᴀꜰᴇ ᴄᴀᴍᴇʀᴏɴ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ)

pairing: rafe cameron x kook!f!reader, (not au, both are early to mid 20s)

word count: 4.8k

summary: from the corner, at the party, you watch him

warnings: ANGST!!!!, pining/whipped reader, rafe & reader are friends, kook!reader & kook!rafe, drinking, not proofread

a note: yeah....yeah....

please reblog and like, it means a lot! let me know what you think!

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

He’s never looked more beautiful. 

You bring the red solo cup to your lips, eye twitching and throat burning as you take a sip. It was foul, cheap vodka mixed with melted skittles, but it was getting you drunk, and that’s all that mattered. You felt like a creep, sitting in the corner of Barry’s living room, practically eye fucking Rafe as he stands in the kitchen, but you couldn’t help it. Your eyes naturally went to his figure, tracing the expanses of his toned arms. 

You wanted him.

You always have.

From the second you met him in elementary school, when you were around 6 years old, you’ve had a crush on Rafe. You remember that day like it was yesterday. You had just gotten new shoes that had laces instead of Velcro, and even though your mom had tied them for you in the morning, you were struggling to tie them yourself after they had come undone. Rafe had spotted you in the courtyard and expertly tied them himself before sticking his hand out towards you to shake, announcing his presence with the upmost confidence. Ward had been raising him to be a businessman, after all.

You fell for him immediately, and you fell hard. As your friendship grew, so did your feelings towards him. You had just moved to Kildare, and your parents had exclaimed that you would be best friends forever when you discovered that you were actually his next door neighbour. Through the trees you could just make out his bedroom window, and if he tried hard enough, he could see right into yours too. You spent the rest of your days wanting, needing, dying for him, hoping one day he would pick you over whatever girl of the week he was seeing. You wondered what it was like to be chosen. You were never chosen by Rafe. You were a maybe, a probably, sometimes even definitely, but never his first choice. 

You remember when he got his first actual girlfriend, April. You were 13, already head over heels in love with him, and were absolutely devastated when he sent you that text. You cried so hard you nearly threw up, yet your reply to him was a simple ‘Congrats!’. You knew that he didn’t like you back then, and that showing any type of jealousy would just drive a further wedge between you. He was already starting to pull away. He was dealing with so much at home that he was taking it out on everyone else at school, constantly screaming and yelling and throwing things. He needed the attention he wasn’t getting, and it seemed that the attention you were giving him wasn’t enough.

At 15, he got a new girlfriend, Lillian. They weren’t serious like how he was with April, but this was the first girl he had in a while that actually stuck around. Lillian didn’t like you, and you didn’t like her. She was, quite ironically, jealous, and was constantly reading your texts with Rafe. She purposely excluded you from parties and hangouts, doing everything in her power to get you away from Rafe. They only lasted seven months before Rafe dropped her, saying: ‘I’ve known her for a few months. I’ve known you my whole life. It’s a pretty easy choice.’

He didn’t get another girlfriend until he was 17, bordering on 18, when he met Jacquelyn. The daughter of one of Ward’s business partners, they were essentially a PR relationship, only hugging and holding hands during fancy black tie events. Jacquelyn was nice to you, nice enough, although you always had a feeling that she knew you loved Rafe. 

And it was hard not to love him. You had tried so many times over the years to just get a grip and move on, but something about him was so alluring. You had watched him grow, blossom into the most handsome man you’ve ever seen in your life, and it was hard not to fall for him. You had tried to gaslight yourself a few times into believing you were truly over him, climbed out of the hole you were stuck in, but the next time you hugged, and you got to bury your face into his chest, you fell right back down. He was the moon in your universe, and you were barely even a star.

Just as you had seen Rafe blossom, you had seen him shrivel up. Watching him get into drugs, alcohol, and violence was heart-wrenching, but he never listened to you. He said you didn’t get it, and you didn’t understand him, but when things got too much for him, or he got too drunk, he would always turn up on your porch, your favourite candy in hand as a figurative olive branch. And you accepted it every time, eagerly opening your arms to welcome him, revelling in the feeling of his whispered apologies in your ear. 

You were always the one he went to.

Until he met Sofia.

You didn’t want to hate Sofia, but you couldn’t help it. She had everything you wanted, and she was everything you wanted to be. She had Rafe, and she was Rafe’s. After Rafe heard of Ward’s death, Sofia is the one he went to, not you. You didn’t see him until weeks later at The Island Club, and as you tried to give him your condolences, she whisked him away. He left the room as quickly as he entered it, leaving only a waft of his cologne and a pit in your stomach in his wake.

She stole him away from you, constantly hanging on his arm and dragging away during parties. He never responded to you anymore, too busy spending time with her, taking her to some stupid boutique on the mainland or going with her to the beach when the UV was too high to resist. Did he rub sunscreen on her back? Did his hands ever slip under the bikini straps as he caressed her skin, did his hands ever wander around the front and slip underneath the cups?

Did you even want to know?

You had grown apart these last few months. You rarely saw him, even out on Kildare, and your conversations were few and far between. Even then, your feelings for him never faded. You would sit on the chair by your window, staring out towards his, wondering if just maybe you would catch a glimpse of him walking by. You felt, for lack of a better word, hollow without him. Rafe was one of your best friends, and after spending years together attached at the hip, you were suddenly missing your other half. It felt like a breakup, except you were never together in the first place. You were grieving a relationship that never even happened. 

You advert your eyes from Rafe, realising you’ve been staring for a bit, and go to take another sip, only to find your cup empty. You sigh, chewing on the inside of your lip as you look back up at the kitchen. His arm is slung around Sofia’s neck, his fingers absentmindedly rubbing at her collarbones as she leans against his chest, a smug look on her stupid pretty face as she sips on her hard seltzer.

You look back at the cup again. You needed more alcohol if you were going to stay sane at this party. You stand up, placing the pillow that was once in your lap on the chair before moving across the room towards the kitchen, manoeuvring through drunk Kooks and groping couples until you reached the linoleum.

‘It’s an open bar,’ Barry said, ‘Take whatever.’ so you didn’t feel weird about immediately digging through his liquor cabinet, pulling out the giant bottle of Everclear from the bottom shelf. You had only ever had Everclear one other time, and all you remember of the night was waking up face first in the sand with seaweed in your hair. You had promised yourself never again, but this night was different. You wanted to stay at this party and be with your friends, but you couldn’t bear to look at Rafe and Sofia sober.

Rafe’s thumb moves up to caress Sofia’s jaw as he watches you set the Everclear down on the kitchen counter. “Damn, already?”

Oh, shit. Was he talking to you? You look over, pursing your lips together. “Uh, yeah. Why not live a little, you know?”

“Yeah, yeah, I guess…” He mutters, dragging his thumb down Sofia’s neck. “You know that stuff is hella strong, right?”

Did he not remember that night? “I’m just gonna take one shot, dude.”

“Well, one shot can turn into two, then into four, then…” He trails off. “You know how you are after a few shots.”

You unscrew the Everclear and pour some into your solo cup. Your hands are shaking from the vodka you had before, and you dump in more than you had initially planned on. You screw the cap back on and slip it into the cabinet again before opening the fridge to grab a mixer. “I got it.”

He watches you pour, eyebrows raising when he sees the amount that flows into your cup, but he says nothing, simply continuing to caress the skin of Sofia’s jaw with his thumb. “Mhm, okay.”

Sofia looks between the two of you, sipping on her drink before speaking up, “You never drink like this.”

You don’t even fucking know me, you want to say, but you don’t. You shrug as you open a can of Cherry Coke and dump it into the solo cup before crushing it and tossing it into the recycling bin on the edge of the kitchen. “Just wanna try something new.”

“You could do that with literally anything. Everclear is not a good start,” He sighs, looking down at you. “One shot of that stuff will have you on your ass within the hour.”

You swirl the drink in your cup and shrug again as you leave the kitchen to go back to your spot. “We’ll see.” You glance at Rafe over your shoulder as you take a sip, moving back through the crowd.

It tasted disgusting. You felt the liquor burn all the way down to your stomach, your eyes watering slightly as you hold back a cough, but you keep drinking. You wanted to forget. You wanted to be drunk enough to not care about Rafe and Sofia. You sat back down without a word, grabbing the pillow you had left on the chair and putting it back on your lap. You watched the party from the corner, hesitating as you lift the cup to your lips and take another sip.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

The party gets too hot too quickly.

November was one of the cooler months in the Outer Banks and although the patio door was wide open, you were starting to sweat. The alcohol, mixed with your bubbling anxiety as you watched Rafe and Sofia, was causing you to start to squirm uncomfortably in your seat.

You hadn’t even finished your drink when you head outside, pushing through the crowd bottlenecked at the door, breathing a sigh of relief when you reach the pool area. Your shoulders droop as you start to relax, your skin starting to cool down. The loungers and seats are full, but the pool is empty, even though Barry had been promising everyone it was heated. There were a few Kooks sitting on the edge of the hot tub, their feet in the water, beer cans littering the surrounding ground.

You look around, biting the inside of your lip. You start to move, looking around the expansive backyard before finding a small concrete bench pressed up against an old out of use fountain full of leaves and dried algae. You brush some of the leaves off and sit down, a small noise escaping your mouth at how fucking cold it is. You zip up your jacket, sitting cross-legged as you try to get as comfortable as possible. 

You continue to people watch, taking some brief moments to look up at the stars.

It’s peaceful, and you’re grateful for the silence. The sound from the house is still audible, but it’s muffled enough from being out in the yard. You watch the Kooks in the hot tub, noticing a couple of them starting to kiss.

You were grateful to be out of there.

You were grateful not to be looking at Rafe and Sofia. You couldn’t stop your mind from wandering back to the kitchen. Rafe’s hands on Sofia’s hips. Him burying his nose in her hair. The soft kisses they exchanged every time they thought you weren’t looking. It made your stomach turn.

You look up at the clear night sky, shivering as a breeze passes, brushing the stray hairs that escaped your low bun away from your face. You could see Orion, you could see the moon, you could even see some stars you didn’t know the name of. They manage to distract you for a long time, so long that you don’t even remember how long you’ve been sitting there.

You feel something heavy being placed on your shoulders, the weight startling you. You turn around, ready to snap at whoever had disturbed your solitude, but you're met by Rafe. He's wearing only a t-shirt, his own jacket in his hands. “Couldn't let you freeze to death sitting out here alone.”

“I have a jacket,” You say. It’s true, your jacket was keeping you warm, and a large part of you felt bad that Rafe was trying to give his up. “Keep yours.” As you stop dissociating, your fingers and toes suddenly feel stiff. You move the cup to your other hand, clenching and stretching your fingers.

He ignores your protest, draping his jacket over your shoulders anyway, even going as far as to zip it up under your chin. “No arguments. You looked like a baby deer sitting here shivering.”

His cologne smells so good. It smells like home. “Thanks.” Your eyes follow him as he sits next to you on the bench, beer bottle in hand.

“No problem,” Rafe looks out, his knee brushing your leg as he turns to check out the backyard, eyes scanning the Kooks in the hot tub as he takes a sip of his beer. After a moment, he turns back to you, eyebrows furrowing as he notices your drink. “You didn’t finish that.” he nods towards the cup in your hand.

“No, it’s uh…” You clear your throat and sit up straight. “It’s disgusting. Guess Everclear and Cherry Coke don’t mix.”

He snickers, “Told you so,” He takes another sip of his beer, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he looks at you. “You shouldn’t drink that stuff anyway. I’ve seen people go down quick after only one shot. Not pretty.”

“Eh. Wanted to try something new.” You say, swirling it around in the cup.

“Yeah, well, don’t go drinking Everclear again. I’m not gonna hold your hair back while you’re puking,” He gives you another once over, eyes lingering on your face. “You don’t look very good.”

You weren’t doing good. Not at all. You were trying to live your life without Rafe around, even just as a friend, and it was proving to be a very difficult task. It was so hard to not immediately rush to text him, or to send him a million TikToks throughout the day. You missed him, as much as it pained you to admit. You shrug. “Just kinda tired. Didn’t sleep well.”

He notices the change in your demeanour instantly, the walls that he was so used to seeing come down were up now. You were shutting him out. “You gotta stop staying up late on your phone, then.” he elbows you playfully, hoping to get you to laugh, like old times.

You don’t.

You awkwardly look back down at your drink and swirl it again. You had thought that maybe this unwelcomed distance would do you good, and you would eventually fall out of love with him, but it seems to get harder and harder every day. You just wanted to hold him one last time. You needed him back then, and you needed him still. You let out a breath. “Yeah. Probably.”

He stays silent, taking another sip from his beer as he looks back out to the yard. There was a tension in the air now, but he wasn’t sure if it was all in his head. You seemed…distant. Shut off. He was so used to your bright personality, your happy demeanour, your laugh. Now, you were just…blank. His knee bumps yours again as he shifts. He looked back over at you, watching you for a long time. You were just staring straight, avoiding his gaze.

You clear your throat again, setting your cup down beside you. You unzip his jacket and stand up as you slide it off, trying to avoid his gaze as you drape it over his shoulders. “I’m gonna head back inside.”

Rafe catches your wrist as you start to move away, fingers gentle, but firm, almost reluctant to let you go. His eyes meet yours immediately, holding your gaze captive as he looks at you. “Wait.”

“What?” You ask, picking your drink back up with your free hand.

“We…” he trails off, his thumb rubbing the sensitive skin of your inner wrist as he looks at you. It was cold outside, but your skin was so warm against his. It felt so natural. Like everything was right again. He didn’t ever realise how much he had missed you until now. “We need to talk.”

You try to pull your wrist away. “About what?”

He lets the grasp on your wrist loosen, but he doesn’t let go, his touch trailing down until his fingers are laced with yours. “About this…distance…” he motions vaguely between you two, “That you’ve been building for the past couple of months.”

“That I’ve been building?” You ask, your eyebrows raising. “You’re the one who’s been ignoring me.”

“Not on purpose. I’ve been busy.” he says defensively, almost immediately. He’d be lying if he didn’t say that he had been busy lately. Sofia had been keeping him on his toes lately, and he hadn’t had much time alone during the day, let alone time alone in his own home. But he also couldn’t deny that he had been purposefully avoiding you, knowing that if he spent too much time with you, Sofia would have something to say about it.

“Maybe I’ve been busy too.” You say, although it’s a lie. 

Rafe snorts, almost calling you out on the lie, but he lets it go with a sigh. He doesn’t say anything for a long time, just looking at you. His thumb rubs slow circles on the inside of your palm, the touch familiar. It hurt his chest. “I don’t like this.”

“Don’t like what?” You ask, crossing your arms over your chest.

“This,” He gestures between you and him. “This distance. I don’t like it,” He looks away, a frustrated expression on his face. “We’re friends. We’ve known each other for years. Why do you act like I can’t even approach you anymore?”

Friends. You never hated a word more. You take a step back, sighing as you glance out over the pool again. “Sometimes friends drift apart, Rafe.”

He looks at you, his jaw clenched as he watches you avoid his gaze once again. You wouldn’t even look at him. It was infuriating. He couldn’t believe that you were so nonchalant about all of this. Friends drift apart. That’s what you said. Did he have to mean so little? His hand falls back to his side, but the expression on his face stays fixed. “Bullshit.”

“You’re busy, I’m busy,” You say. “Sometimes that happens.”

“I’m only busy with Sofia,” He snaps, frustration seeping through in his voice. He takes a step towards you, eyes narrowed. “And even when I’m busy with her, I still manage to find time-” He stops himself, taking a moment to slow his breathing. He was getting too worked up. The last thing he needed right now was to blow up at you.

You chug the rest of your drink and set the empty solo cup on the bench, immediately regretting it. You should’ve dumped it out a while ago. The last thing you needed was a drunk walk home. “We’ve both been busy. That’s it, Rafe.”

“That’s it?” He repeats, looking at you incredulously. He couldn’t believe you were so blasé about this. About you guys practically ignoring each other, never talking, practically avoiding each other every chance you got. Was it so simple to you? To forget years of friendship over something so idiotic like being busy? “You’re bullshitting me.”

You hated this feeling. Your heart ached, and your hands went numb, your body full of tingles. You take a few more steps back. You had to do it, you had to rip the band-aid off if you wanted to finally move on. You didn’t want your happiness to live and die with him. “Maybe this friendship thing isn’t working anymore.”

It felt like you had stabbed him straight in the chest, twisted the blade, and then pulled it out slowly, painfully. Every word that you spat out felt like another layer of pain. It was bullshit. You had been by his side through everything. You were always there. He trusted you more than anyone. And this was how you felt now? You didn’t want to be friends? Rafe clenched his jaw, biting back the sting of emotion. “You’re not serious.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say, Rafe.” You say.

“I want you to tell me that you still give a damn about our friendship!” he says, a frustrated tone in his voice.  “I want you to tell me that this distance is bullshit and that I still mean something to you! That you still want to hang out and talk and everything else I thought we’d still be doing when we got older, and that I’m just reading into this too much! I want you to tell me that you’re just busy, and it’ll all get better in a little bit, because I can’t handle this anymore.”

“Rafe--” You try to speak, but he cuts you off.

He was getting more worked up now, his chest heaving as he stares at you. He had never felt like this before. You always knew how to calm him down from whatever fit he was throwing, but you weren’t doing that now. He takes a step closer, getting into your personal space now, anger evident in his eyes. “Do you even care about me anymore, or are you just pretending you do whenever I’m around? Do you hate me now?”

You would probably still adore him with his hands around your neck. “No, of course I don’t hate you.”

“Then why are you doing this to me?” He demands, his tone a mix of anger and desperation. He was getting louder, but he didn’t care. For once, he wanted to let his emotions out, knowing that they would be safe with you. “Why are you acting like this?” He gestures between you, “You’re shutting me out, and you’re pulling away, and you can’t even look me in the eye without flinching. Why? Tell me why.”

“Because I like you, Rafe!” You blurt out. Your eyes widen slightly when you realise what you said. You let out a shaky breath. “I like you a lot. More than I should. And seeing you with her, with Sofia… it’s so hard for me.”

He stares at you for a moment, stunned into silence by your confession. 

You liked him.

A lot?

More than you should.

His jaw clenched, his mind trying to process everything as he sits back down. He had suspected that you liked him more than a friend for a long time, but he had never dared to try and confirm it. The words were out in the open now, though. And it changed everything.

You hate how silent he’s being. Your voice is shaky when you start to speak again, “And I know that you don’t feel the same way about me. I know that, and I’m okay with that.”

He lets out an almost bitter laugh, running a hand through his hair. The sound is harsh in the air, like a slap in the face. “That’s what you think? You think I don’t have feelings for you?” His voice was quiet, but there was something in it that made it even more threatening than if he was yelling.

“I know you don’t.” You say softly, tears starting to well in your eyes. You weren’t stupid. You knew from day dot that he would never feel the same way that you do, and you always knew that he would never be yours, but it was never enough to help you finally move on. 

For the first time in Rafe’s life, he struggles with what to say. It takes him a few seconds to find the words he's looking for. “Jesus Christ, are you kidding me? We’re not romantic or anything, we’re just friends.”

“I know that.” You say.

“We’re just friends.” He says again, as if you didn’t hear him the first time.

Your stomach hurts. “I know.”

He looks away from you, standing up from the bench. “How long have you liked me?”

“Since the day we met,” You say. “When you tied my shoe for me.”

He runs his hand through his hair again. “And you never said anything.” It’s a statement, not a question, and it stings.

“There was no point,” You say. “I knew even back then that you would never feel the same way.”

He doesn’t know what to do. You’re right, he doesn’t feel the same way. He doesn’t like you the way you like him. At least he thinks he doesn’t. He stays quiet, his fists clenching.

“I don’t want to ignore you, Rafe,” You continue. “But maybe this distance will be good for us. I’ll be able to get over you.”

“You shouldn’t have fallen for me in the first place.” He snaps.

It takes you by surprise. Your eyes flutter for a second as tears start to fall, and you take a step back, chest clenching.

He stares at you, his stomach lurching as the first of the tears roll down your face. He stays silent for a moment, before finally sighing. “It’s not supposed to be this way,” He walks towards you again, reaching out to take both of your hands, trying to stop you from backing away from him. “You’re supposed to be my best friend, not some girl in love with me.”

“I’m sorry.” You say.

“Stop apologising,” He says, holding your wrists tightly, like he’s trying to keep you in place. “I hate it when you do that.”

You almost apologise again. You just nod, looking down at your feet before moving your gaze back over to the pool. No one has noticed you two yet.

He follows your gaze, looking towards the pool. No one had even spared a glance in your direction. It was just you and him, secluded in the quiet corner, surrounded by a party that seemed a mile away. He doesn’t know what to say, or how to react to your confession. All he knows is that he still hates seeing you cry.

“Do you still want to be friends?” You ask quietly, looking up at him.

Rafe hesitates. 

His first instinct is to push you away. To tell you that it would be best if you two just never spoke to each other again, that things would be better that way. But he knew he didn’t mean that. And when he looked down at you, seeing the heartbreak on your face, he knew he couldn’t say it. He wasn’t the best at expressing his feelings, and he had no idea what he was doing, but you were his oldest friend. You had been by his side through everything. There was no way he was pushing you away that easily.

He pulls you into a hug, pressing his nose into the crown of your head. “Of course, I still want to be friends,” he murmurs. “You’re my best friend, you idiot.”

You hug him back, and it feels so good to finally hold him again. You interlock your fingers behind his back. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologise,” he mutters, resting his chin on the top of your head. “Stop apologising.” He stays silent for a moment, soaking in the feeling of being able to hold you again. He had missed this. He had missed you more than he had ever realised.

You stay there for a while, nose buried in his chest, before you speak again. Your voice is quiet, muffled against his jacket, but he can hear you loud and clear. “I love you.”

Rafe sighs, pushing your hair away from your forehead before placing a kiss on it. “It’ll pass.”

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

part two is here!

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