#nobody ask me how much money i just spent

[bluesey-182]

GUESS WHO JUST GOT SLEEP TOKEN TICKETS

[feralsneeze]

Not sneeze just mental health rambling in the tags

[dduane]

I just received a copy of a book I've been very much looking forward to by a favorite author, but the quality of the book itself is... not great. Cheap paper, weak binding, even a weird illustration of the main character on the cover that I'm having trouble believing the author approved. Obviously, I don't want to leave a bad review on Amazon or GoodReads or anywhere, as I'm 100% certain the content is as excellent as her other work. But how can I best let the publisher (Baen) know I'm disappointed without threatening to never buy her books again? Because, well, if this is the only option, I'm gonna keep buying them even in my disappointment.

Well, the first thing I thought when I read this was "Wow, I'm really glad I don't have anything in print from Baen at the moment except a couple of anthologized short stories." :)

As for the rest of it, let's take it point by point.

Adding a cut here, because this will run a bit long. Caution: contains auctorial bitching and moaning, painful illustrations of cases in point, and brief advice on how to complain most effectively. (Also links to paintings of cats.)

Cheap paper: This has been an accurate complaint since well before COVID—and it's often been worse since, with supply chain issues also being involved. That said: one way publishers routinely save money on printing books, especially the bigger ones, is by going for thinner/cheaper paper. I remember one of our UK editors going on at great length and with huge annoyance—during one of those late-night convention-bar bitch sessions—over how the only way they could get some really good books published (because Upstairs insisted on reducing the per-copy production costs) was by reducing the paper quality to the point where you could nearly read through it. Sacrificing decent text size(s) also became part of this. Nobody in editorial was happy about the result: but there wasn't much they could do.

Bad bindings: Similar problem. Sewn bindings used to be a thing in paperbacks... but not any more: not for a good while, now. These days, it's all glue. Even hardcovers are showing up glued rather than sewn. Don't get me started. :/ (This is why I so treasure some of the oldest paperbacks I've acquired, which are actually sewn.)

Crap covers: I've had my share of these—though my share of some really good ones, too. And one of the endless frustrations of traditional publishing is that the writer routinely has little or even no influence over what the cover will look like... let alone how much will be spent on it, or (an often-related issue) how good the execution will be.

There are of course exceptions. If you're working at the, well, @neil-gaiman -esque level or similar in publishing, a lot more attention is going to be paid to your thoughts. You may even be able to get "cover veto" written into your contracts, so that if you disapprove, changes will get made. But without actual contractual stipulations, the writer has zero legal recourse or way to withhold approval. (And I bet even Neil has some horror stories.)

The normal workflow looks like this. After a book's purchased, its editor and the art director discuss what it's about and what the cover should look like. The art director then hires an artist and tells them what to do. After that, the artist executes their vision and gets paid. It is incredibly rare for a writer to have any significant input into this process. And as to whether or not they approve of the final result, well... the publisher mostly just shrugs and goes back to eyeing the bottom line, muttering "Who told them they get a vote?"

Now, I've been seriously lucky to occasionally be an exception in this regard. In particular, my editors at Harcourt (when Jane Yolen and Michael Stearns were editing Harcourt's Magic Carpet YA imprint) would ask me what I thought would be a good idea for the next Young Wizards cover, and I'd think about it a bit and send them back a paragraph or so about some core scene. They'd then talk to their art director, and after that send their notes and mine to Cliff Nielsen (who started doing the covers for the hardcover and mass-market paperback editions of the series in the mid-90s) or to Greg Swearingen (who was the artist on the digest-format editions). And the results, by and large, were pretty good. ...I also think affectionately of the UK artist Mick Posen, who insisted on seeing pictures of our cats before painting the covers for the Hodder editions of The Book of Night with Moon and On Her Majesty's Wizardly Service (the UK title for To Visit The Queen).

But this kind of treatment is a courtesy—not even vaguely suggested in the books' contracts, and very much the exception to the rule. And for every writer who's midlist, there are times when the luck runs out. For example: one time I wrote a book that was an AU-Earth-near-future fantasy police procedural, thematically pretty dark—dealing with issues of abuse of megacorporate power, institutionalized bigotry, and (explicitly) attempted genocide. And the cover, done by an artist who's a good friend and some of whose fabulous art hangs in our house, came out looking like this. It was... let's just say "not ideally representative."

So I was glad, when my local workflow allowed it, to recover the current, revised version of the book with something at least a little more apropos. But the original cover's not the artist's fault. He did what the art director told him... as a cover artist must do to get paid, and (ideally) to get hired again. At present, that's how the system works.

...So. You've got a badly-built and -presented book on your hands. How best to make your feelings known in some way that might make a difference down the line? (As you make it plain that you'll keep buying this author's books this way if you must.)

First of all: when (as part of my psych nursing training) we were taught how to complain most effectively, we were told that the first and most basic rule of the art is this:

Only Complain To Someone Who Can Actually Do Something About Your Problem

So I salute your desire not to waste your time taking the issue to the reviews on Amazon, or the pages of Goodreads... because they can't do anything. The odds that anyone from production at Baen is reading the comments there strike me as... well, not infinitesimally small, not being hit-by-a-meteorite-while-in-the-shopping-center-parking-lot small... but really low.

So: write to corporate.

In your place I would go online and rummage around a bit to find out who's on record as the publisher at Baen. I would then write them a letter on paper. And I would lay out the problem pretty much as you laid it out up at the top.

The tone I think I'd choose would be the more-in-sorrow-than-in-anger approach. I'd say, "I write to comment about your recently published book by [X Writer], whose work I love. I have to say, though, that I don't think the cover on [X Book] is terribly representative of the quality of the prose inside. And also, the construction and production quality of the book itself was a disappointment to me because [here spell out why].

"I'd really like to see [X. Writer's] books succeed with you, and I'd like to buy more of them without wondering whether I was going to be disappointed again. But if this is typical of how they're being produced, I'd also be concerned that the state of these books is setting up a situation in which the author's sales will be damaged, and you would stop publishing them... which would really be a shame. Whereas on the other hand, better production quality could keep previous purchasers coming back and buying, not only more books by this author, but books by others whom you publish."

This phrasing, as you'll have seen, walks a bit wide around the issue of your further purchases, while directing attention toward the bottom line... which will routinely be what the publisher's looking at from day to day. And—being, one has to hope, in possession of the wider picture as regards what's going on with their production costs—maybe they can actually do something about it.

Anyway, nothing ventured, nothing gained, yeah? It's worth a try. All you can do is hope for the best.

And finally: please know that I admire your commitment to the author: whoever she is, she's lucky to have you. It's a terrific thing to have readers who'll willing to spend the time to hunt you down, and who're willing not to judge a book by its cover. :)

[xveenusx]

Guilty

Paring(s): JJ maybank x fem!reader

Summary: it didn't matter that she did everything for him. it didn't matter that she loved him. insecurities ruin a great thing, love can't fix these problems

Authors note: angsty angsty angsty, bad JJ

Song rec: grave by tate mccrae

Part 2: Wanted

Perfect.

Everything had to be perfect. 

The perfect dress. The perfect makeup. The perfect boy. 

The past several days were borderline catastrophic with JJ getting arrested for sinking Topper’s boat. I begged and pleaded with my parents to help me get him out, promising them anything they wanted. They asked for the one thing I couldn’t give them. JJ. 

And yet, I said yes. I said yes because the thought of him sitting in a cell all alone, stuck with nothing but his thoughts made my stomach turn. He’s always thought that nobody needed him. Maybe that was something his drunken father drilled into him but it was far from the truth. I needed him.

Everything had spun out of control and it all started the minute I met JJ Maybank. But I wouldn’t trade it for the world. Being with him was like walking for the first time. Nerve wracking yet exhilarating--freeing.  

My life before him was just that, a life. Everything revolved around being the perfect little daughter to my parents. Debutantes, charity dinners, polo matches, and country clubs filled my schedule to the brim but they were rarely there. My mother was running a successful fashion line, working on her latest release while my father was a shark in the courtroom. While I loved every second of splurging on clothes, lavish trips to Europe, brunch at my favorite restaurant, I was missing something. I always felt like something was missing in a world where I had everything. 

That’s not to say I’m ungrateful for every opportunity my position and family has afforded me. But when you spend enough time with people you realize are only conversing with you for money or to step on you to increase their social capital, nothing seems genuine. 

Everything interaction was superficial and it became isolating. But with JJ, each and every moment we shared was intimate and unfeigned. 

He taught me how to surf the swells he spent hours in daily. I learned the slight touch of hand in the art of being a mild kleptomaniac. After several failed attempts and many loud complaints, I could finally balance on his dirt bike. 

None of these moments could be bought with money and maybe that’s why I cherished them so much. I cherished them so greatly that I refused to let them go.

And in turn, I couldn’t let him go. Despite the ever growing distance that's wedged itself between us the moment he was released from jail. Maybe it was a pride thing, or maybe it could have been the condescending jabs my dad threw his way, but JJ had pulled away. 

My father's threats to revoke the bail money hung heavy above our heads. So tonight, I was going to try and change that. I needed to bridge the gap that had us so far apart. Midsummers was how I was going to achieve that.

Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath and held it for several seconds to calm my racing heart. I open them slowly, dragging my gaze along my reflection on the floor length mirror at the entrance to the club. A silky number drapes my dainty figure in the softest brush of yellow with threaded pearls as straps. Ivory satin Jimmy Choo heels from their latest collection decorated my feet. 

The familiar rumble of a truck had a grin pulling at the corners of my lips. My parents were somewhere in the building, having been on the board and needed to sign off on some last minute details. 

I didn’t mind the constant abandonment. The loneliness that once clung to me had slowly evaporated the moment JJ entered my world. 

Grabbing my Chrsitian Dior clutch, I headed for the entrance of the Island Club. A familiar mass of shaggy blonde hair had my feet moving quicker. The minute his face came into view I knew something was wrong. 

His lips were tight in a grim line as he continuously shook his head. I quickened my steps, apologizing swiftly to several people who were trying to get my attention. 

“I’m sorry, sir. Are you a member here?”

“Well, no, but my girlfriend-.” 

“Then I’m afraid you're going to have to turn back around. This is a private club.”

“Listen dude, my girlfriend invited me and-”

“Sir, you need to get back into your vehicle before I call security.” The coordinator, who went by Ryan, dismissed JJ without a second glance.

JJ’s eyes narrowed. “If you’d let me speak-”

“This is private property.”

“Bro, calm down. You’re not protecting the president.” JJ huffed, shoving his hands into his pocket. His cheeks tinted a slight red which had my blood boiling. 

He was person. Period. One that didn't deserve to be treated like that especially in such a public setting. I was livid at the thought of Ryan managing to make JJ feel embarrassed. 

“You’re not a member-”

“No, but I am.” I snapped coming to a stop beside him, causing the event coordinator to rear his head back in surprise.

“Hey, baby. ” The familiar pull of his voice coated me like the warmest honey. A smirk tugged at his lips at the obvious irritation on my face. 

Pausing to give JJ my attention, I placed a soft kiss on his lips and pushed back a wild strand of blonde hair. “Hi.”

The smile he gave me was like a sudden beam of light that hit me square in the chest. 

“I am so sorry. I didn’t realize he was with you-”

“Add JJ Maybank to my member account,” My words were sharp and left little room for argument, though they were dripping with the sickeningly sweet tone I mastered at the young age of twelve. “Consider yourself up to date.”

“I’ll get it done.” With that, Ryan tipped his head and left quickly. 

I bristled once more, muttering under my breath, ”Dick.” My chest was heavy with guilt at his treatment, wondering if this was actually a good idea. I gnawed at my bottom lip nervously.  

This was not how I wanted our night to start. 

“I’ve never been a member before.”

Not bothering to conceal my giggle, I turned around and allowed my eyes to drift over every inch of JJ. The black suit I bought him was fitted and hugged every muscle in a way that had my stomach clenching. 

Sun kissed hands reached for me the moment I was within his reach. My arms wrap around the mass of lean muscles, my nose buried in his neck. Taking a deep breath, salt and sex wax filled my senses and I let myself relax. 

Home. He felt like home.

“You look very handsome.”

A rumble left his chest. “My sugar mama bought it for me.”

Hiding my face in his chest, a loud laugh slipped past my lips. JJ shushed me almost immediately, “People are looking. We can’t have them thinking we’re together.”

I pulled away, trying to keep a straight face at his antics. “We are together.”

“Shit, we are?” He held out his hand, amusement and mischief dancing in his eyes. “My sugar mama can’t find out or she’ll cut me off.”

How could I not love him when he made me laugh so hard my stomach hurt?

I hit his arm with my purse in mock outrage before taking his hand while his other touched my bare back. The feel of his rough calloused hands from all his hard work has me suck in a breath. Those rough hard hands knew my body intimately, inside and out. 

“Do that again and I’m finding the nearest bathroom.” JJ leaned down, his lips brushing against the top of my ear. 

A clearing of the throat had us both turning our heads. My father stood there with a stoic face, his eyes promising retribution later. 

Looking at my father directly in the eye, I place my arm in the crook of his, lacing us together. 

“I see you brought a friend.” The last word is spoken with clear disdain. 

My grip on JJ’s arm tightened. “I brought my boyfriend.”

“We’ll talk about this later.” 

As if they’d actually be home, I thought but decided to keep that to myself.

Deciding that this entire conversation was pointless, I was dragging JJ away from the pair when my father grabbed JJ, whispering something in his ear.

My stomach shrunk and apprehension filled me as the light look of JJ’s face fell, replaced with a flat look and hardened eyes. 

“Duly noted, sir.” His mouth curled in a sarcastic snark. 

I shot my father a disappointed look. Curling myself into JJ’s side, my arm wrapped around his waist and I tugged us into the party. “Ignore him, please.”

“Already forgotten, princess.”

My eyes watch his face for any sign of distress, but find nothing. Guilt ebbed aways at my walls.

“Let’s go find Mr. Adams. He owns a chain of surf shops. I’m sure if we schmooze him, we can get you a solid job or maybe even a board.” I tossed him a wink that had him grinning. 

“I like the way you think. Lead the way, gorgeous.”

Despite his hand on my back, all the warmth we had a mere moments ago was gone. I couldn’t help but notice the small distance he kept between us. One that didn’t exist until my father opened his mouth. 

Several hours later, the sun had begun to set and a cool breeze now caressed my bare back. I embraced the cool breeze due to the several glasses of champagne I had. 

Despite my love for the warm buzz it gave me, it did little for my bladder. “I’ll be right back.”

His eyes widened in alarm. “You can’t leave me here with these people.”

I smothered my laugh with my hand. “Did you want to come with me?”

“To the bathroom? Kinky, I’m in.” JJ responded, clutching my hand in his before expertly pulling us through the crowd. 

Nothing could peel off the cheesy smile that bore my face. Despite the slight hiccup at the beginning of the night, JJ charmed most of the members with his charm and humor. I was hoping with some networking, I could help JJ get some security. I believed he was capable of doing just about anything. He had such determination and never let failure keep him down. 

JJ knew how to hussle and I wanted everyone to see his potential, even if at times he didn’t see it himself. 

My heels clicked along the granite floor, our hands swinging in the air. A shriek escaped my lips as JJ twirls me around, my dress swishing around my ankles. “Gorgeous.” He puffed out his cheeks, his gaze boring into mine.

Our matching grins were nothing short of radiant. Being with him was easy in a world filled with difficult people. 

“Well this is disgusting.”

JJ went rigid. That wouldn’t have concerned me if he hadn’t muttered panicked curses under his breath. “If someone says one more thing to me..”

JJ never let Rafe intimidate him before but for some reason JJ seemed a little more hesitant with this exchange. Realization dawned on me. The boat. Fuck. 

I let my hands fall while rolling my eyes and turning to face Rafe. There he stood in all his stuck up glory, not a hair out of place and his suit neatly pressed. He looked every bit of a country member as one could possibly be with the light blue suit paired with a white undershirt and blue bow tie, brown dress shoes on his feet. 

“Don’t you have another line to snort?” I asked.

Sure, Rafe was conventionally attractive, if you didn’t pay attention to the blown pupils and the constant brush of his nose or the foggy look in his eyes. 

JJ snickered beside me, his hand softly tapping my ass twice in support. 

“JJ, go get me a drink.” Rafe cocked his head.

“I’m actually a member here now.” JJ responded, his hand caressed my cheek softly.

Shocked painted Rafe’s face. “That’s not poss-”

Kelce and Topper stood beside him, both in colored pressed suits as well. They kind of looked like the-”You powerpuff girls have fun.” JJ said with a crooked smile and a tip of the hat.

He seized me by the wrist and strode over to the exit. Relief at his plan to avoid a fight was fleeting at Rafe’s next words.

“If I knew a trailer home and food stamps was all it took for you to open your legs, I would have tried a long time ago.”

JJ jerked around in seconds, ripping out of my grip. He stalked towards Rafe, drawing his arm back before connecting with his jaw. 

A shout passed my lips, my hands covering my mouth in horror as JJ struck Rafe twice more, one blow hitting him directly on the nose. Blood began to gush out of Rafe’s nose, staining his dress shirt a deep crimson. “Say that shit again. Say it.”

Rafe let out a mirthless laugh, his lips pulled at the sides revealing his red stained teeth. “Once a pogue, always a pogue. Isn’t that right, JJ?”

Kelce jumped into action, his arm wrapping around JJ’s neck, pulling him off a Rafe into an effective headlock. That’s when I noticed two more hulking figures and suddenly we were surrounded. 

“Five on one, Rafe? Really?” JJ choked out, tugging at Kelce’s arm. 

Without thinking, I walked behind Kelce and slammed the metal clasp of the bag against the side of his head. Once. Twice. Three times. “Let go of him!” 

Kelce let out a yelp and jerked back, causing his grip on JJ to loosen just enough for him to get free. I went towards him in an instant, but he pushed me behind him as he surveyed the remaining men in front of us. 

Whispers dragged my attention from the scene in front of me as I locked eyes with several members who had poked their heads into the locker area. Shit, this really wasn’t good. I needed to get JJ out of here as soon as possible. I didn’t want to give my father any more ammunition against him. 

Clutching his arm, I tugged him once more towards the exit. I could hear more activity outside the locker room which had me pulling at him harder. I wasn’t going to let Rafe make him look bad in front of all these influential people. Over my dead body. 

“People are coming. We have to go.”

His chest rose and fell with quick breaths, his steele blue gaze not leaving Rafe’s.

“I’m serious. For me, JJ, please?” My final plea seemed to have pulled him out of his angry haze. Without wasting a second, he let me pull him further and further away from the group. Lacing his hand in mine, I made quick work of fixing his suit and his hair, pressing soft kisses as I went. 

“Whenever you’re done slumming it, you know where I am.” Rafe called out from behind us, earning us enough leers from fellow members. 

He tore his hand from mine. “Fuck this.” 

Apprehension coursed through me.

I could feel the storm brewing with each step he took. I trailed behind, my small steps nothing to his long strides. Rafe hit a nerve. One that JJ refused to acknowledge and let fester for months now. It was the elephant in the room any time I offered to pay anything at all. It bothered him, all the money my family had.

“Ignore him, Jayj.” I called out from behind him but his steps never faltered. “Rafe was just trying to get a reaction out of you.”

I could hear the soft melody of the music drifting over the wind from the party that was supposed to fix all our problems. Perhaps I was sticking a bandaid on a gaping wound. 

His shoulders were tense as he stopped a couple feet in front of me, shaking his head. Nerves had my stomach in knots. I only had one shot at trying to fix this. Feelings were never JJ’s thing. He spent months fighting our attraction before he finally gave in. Dating a Kook was never something JJ considered. 

Unfortunately, it was something others thought as well because they never failed to remind him. My father included. 

So here we are. JJ was backed into a corner and like any wounded animal, he had two choices. He could concede or attack and I knew JJ like the back of my hand. He would never give up, so instead he’d go for the throat. 

Too bad it was my throat he went for. 

“I understand-” I stopped speaking the moment JJ whipped around, his eyes cutting me deeply.

“You don’t.” I didn’t respond. My eyes lingered on his busted lip and bruised chiseled face. “You don’t understand so please don’t try to make me feel better by pretending that you do.” 

I pursed my lips. JJ was right, I didn’t understand what it was like to be in his position, but that didn’t mean I didn’t care. That I didn’t want to take away every ounce of pain if it meant he would be happy. 

“You’re right. But Jayj, it’s Rafe.” I argued softly, not wanting to draw attention to us. “He always says shit like that to rile you up but you’ve never let it bother you before. Why now?”

JJ’s face flushed. “Because he’s fucking right. That’s why it bothers me.”

My lips wobbled and I pressed them together. I had gone out of my way to ensure he’d never feel this way. I guess I failed. 

I moved closer, my steps unsure and clumsy. “You never said anything.”

My hand rested against his chest, and I could feel the familiar pounding of his heart. 

“That’s nothing new.” He lifted his shoulder in a half shrug.

That did little to ease the emotional storm brewing within me. Every interaction since he was little was nothing short of violent and negligent. 

He wasn’t used to softness and kindness. We were trying to navigate in uncharted waters but we’re thrown off the boat every time the water got choppy. 

“We can go. Let’s just go, baby. Let me just say bye to my parents-“

“Stop.” He demanded, his tone serve. So unlike JJ. 

I dropped my hand and instead chose to focus on the sound of our breathing. I had to keep my head on straight, because I could tell he was already building up his wall so high, making his fortress impenetrable. 

JJ had never had a consistent thing in his life and I’ll be damned if I let that happen to us. 

Squaring my shoulders back, I faced his heated gaze head on. If he wanted an argument, he’d get one, but we’d both be leaving together. 

I had no intention of going anywhere. 

“Stop?” I echoed, raising my brow.

His eyes were as cold and hard as obsidian. “Yes, stop. How is leaving going to solve any of this?” 

“You’re picking a fight with me for no reason. I’m not the one you’re mad at.”

JJ raked his fingers through the sun bleached golden strands causing them to fall along his forehead. “Maybe I am.”

My eyes widened at his words. What had I done? He’d shared every bit of his world with me and I only wanted to do the same. 

Was that not what people do when they’re in love? Aren’t you supposed to share your interests with your partner and aren’t they supposed to want to know them? 

“For what?” 

He tugged at his shirt collar. “Why am I here?”

My brows furrowed in confusion. Why would he even ask that? 

“Why am I here, at this Midsummer's bullshit?” 

“Because I wanted you to be.” I smoothed out my hair to give my trembling hands something to do. “It’s something that matters to me, it’s not bullshit.”

I had spent months planning this party since my parents were on the board. I wanted everything to be perfect for them and for him. It all seemed silly now. A part of that stung deep in my soul. Bullshit was never a word I used to describe any of the interests he showed me, yet he so easily spouted it at me.

JJ stayed quiet but continued to fidget with the silver ring on his finger. I wanted to close the distance between us but didn’t know how. 

“Don’t let Rafe of all people ruin this. His opinion means nothing.” 

He lifted his chin. “It matters to your dad.”

I barely held back my wince. “He doesn’t get a say in who I date, JJ.”

“Oh, are we lying to each other now?”

“W-What do you mean?”

“Are we going to pretend that you don’t care about what your parents think?”

I took a step back as though he hit me. “Stop talking before you say something you’ll regret.”

“Everything you do is to get their attention. You’d die without their approval.”

In a manner of speaking, he was right. My parents barely paid me an ounce of attention and it was hard not to think it had to do with me. There must have been something wrong with me for my parents to not want to spend time with me. I spent the majority of my life trying to live up to their expectations hoping to be the daughter they always wanted, but nothing worked. I couldn’t get them to love me.

And he threw it all in my face.

I stared at him with tears in my eyes, hurt and stricken. 

At the sight of my tears, he looked away with his jaw clenched. 

“Why are you with me?” He hissed, holding out his arms. “It’s not like I can take you to dinner in Paris or buy you the clothes you like so much.”

Insecurity was a cruel thing. It had the power to turn someone as confident and sure as JJ into a puddle of irate nerves. And as his insecurity continued to dig its hooks further into his skin, he continued to rip into me, piece by piece.

“Because I love you. Because you make me laugh.” My voice raised, my hands clenched into fists by my sides. “Where is this coming from?”

Anxiety wound its way up my throat clocking off my air. 

“You’re fucking shoes are four grand. Do you know what I could do with four grand? I could get the power turned on in my house, or better yet, pay for the house.” The look he shot me had me wanting to be six feet under. He’d never looked at me like that before. He made me sound vapid and superficial. Like I didn’t spend most of my time on his side of the island. 

The guilt I felt early came back tenfold. Guilt for my position. Guilt for the money my family had. Guilt for the things I enjoyed buying, both for him and myself. 

Maybe I was just as bad as Rafe. 

Pain sliced my chest as his gaze continued to penetrate me like bullets.

“The other side of the island is starving and everyone here is drinking champagne and gambling a mortgage for fun. It’s disgusting.” JJ began to pace, shaking his head in disbelief. “You had me kissing ass to all these people, and for what? A job? Stop trying to turn me into something that I’m not.”

I wrapped my arms around my waist. “That wasn’t what I was doing. I was trying to open doors for you so you had options. All I wanted was to help give you a fighting chance.”

“I didn’t ask for your help.” The words continued to pelt at me, hitting my heart every time. The pressure in my chest only tightened further.

“Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do for the person you love?” My voice shook, matching the trembling of my body. “It never mattered before.”

I'd never been in love before him. I didn't have anything to compare it too since the most affection I get from my parents is a card on my birthday. I thought by doing everything they didn't do for me, supporting and comforting and physical touch, would somehow translate into love.

“Of course it mattered. You’re a fucking Kook.” The raw and angry words seeped into my veins, the audible crack of my heart echoing for all to hear.

My throat constricted. Enough, I couldn’t hear anymore. No, no, no. But JJ seemed to have other plans.

“I mean, I’m standing here in a custom Tom Ford whatever that could have fed me for months. I’m out of my element and it makes my skin fucking crawl. John B is getting sent to CPS and Pope is getting jumped and I’m here at some stupid dinner with the people that did it to him. What does that make me?”

My chest cracked open and my heart caved in. I finally saw the broken boy in front of me. Bruised and broken, completely uncomfortable and unsure of himself. 

“Kiara’s a kook.”

“Kiara’s different and you know that.” It remained unsaid but I knew what he was referring to. Kie was a hippie rich chick who didn’t enjoy all the things I did: designer clothes, luxury dinners, expensive food. In other words, I was a self absorbed kook princess that didn’t care for those around me. 

It didn’t matter that I spent most of the summer with JJ helping him fix homes in the cut. It didn’t matter that I donated to charities or helped send care kits to those on the cut after the hurricane. It didn’t matter that I spent almost all my free time with him and the pogues just as Kiara did. 

To him, I represented everything he hated. It didn’t matter that I loved him so deeply I defied my parents. It didn’t matter that I upended my life and chose to be with him. He could never see past the money, something I had no control over.  

I may have been standing in custom Christian Dior and Jimmy Choo, but I’ve never felt more cheap as JJ continued to cut me down with each word. 

“Do you want me to apologize?” My pulse spiked as a burst of adrenaline had me spouting the truth. “I had just as much a choice of being born on figure eight than you did on the cut.”

He looked at me like he hated me. “I don’t know how we deluded ourselves into thinking this could ever work.”

“You don’t get to stand there and make me feel guilty for who I am. Just because I have money and like nice things, doesn’t make me an asshole. I’ve treated everyone in my life with kindness. Don't group me with them.” 

JJ scoffs, pointing at the crowd on the dance floor. “Them? Them--means your parents, baby”.

“I’ve never treated you less than me.” It was a last ditch effort.

“At least I know what Kook pussy tastes like.” He went for the kill. “Money and daddy issues.”

I stilled. The world stilled. Vicious hurt curled its way into my soul, etching every bit of it until I no longer existed. 

Like I said before, I had no intention of going anywhere. But, I guess to JJ, he always had one foot out the door.

I think I stopped breathing. I blinked at him, hoping cameras would pop out and the whole thing came out as a prank. But, no cameras appeared. 

Just him and I stood, in a field, an arms length apart but a universe away. 

“You don’t mean that.” The words came out strangled. “Take it back.” 

He said nothing. I had to bring a fist to my mouth to try and block out the harsh sob that threatened to escape.

“JJ, please.” I begged, my hands catching his arm. “Let’s just go.”

His normal vibrant eyes regard me coldly, a muscle jumping his jaw. I was drowning in my emotions. Everything had escalated to a level I couldn’t fix, because he wouldn’t let me. The bathroom seemed forever ago in the scheme of things. I can see the battle in his eyes of whether to give into his self destructive behavior or to come back to me. 

Any hope I had of him coming back to me dissolved in a matter of seconds. A security guard came up behind him, gripping JJ by the forearm and tugging us towards the front of the party. My eyes widened in horror as I realized they were going to parade him around in front of everyone which would just humiliate him more.

“Jeez Daryl, could you loosen up your grip,” JJ complained, attempting to jerk out of the large man’s grip. He didn’t so much as flinch at each of JJ’s gripes either.

"What do you think you're doing?" I snapped, "Let him go, Darryl."

Darryl shook his head and gave me an apologetic look. "No can do. Mr. Cameron complained."

JJ Scoffed. “I can let myself out. I have two legs.”

“JJ, please stop.”

“I appreciate the discretion, Daryl.”

He self-destructed right in front of me. JJ grabbed a drink off an unsuspecting member and chugged it down before tossing the glass on the floor.

In the end, JJ was always going to be JJ. I saw the moment he decided to destroy everything we had. It was a slight shift in his body and that penetrating gaze of his hardened into a cruel amusement. JJ shrugged my hand off his, before his eyes flitter across the crowd as though he's looking for someone. Then I watched as they landed on a familiar brunette. 

“Hey, let him go. I’m a member of this club and I invited him.” Kie shouted at Darryl who paused for a brief moment. I could see her parents trying to discreetly get her to stop but Kiara refused. At the sound of her words, an appreciative grin tugged at JJ’s lips.

It didn’t matter that I had said the same thing hours ago. It didn’t matter that I not only defended him but made him a member. I liked shiny flashy things and she didn’t. Apparently, that made her better than me.

“Mandatory power hour at Rixon’s, Kie.” He shouted, pointing at where she stood in front of her parent’s. “Pope, you as well, alright?”

I had a disposition for loving people too much, no matter how they treated me. And for the first time in my life, I didn’t care that I wasn’t presentable. I didn’t care that tears were falling down my face or that my hair was a mess. I didn’t want to be left behind. He promised.

“Let me come-”

Exasperation filled his features. "Take a fucking hint. You can go be with someone like Rafe now. You two deserve each other."

“Alright, Kie c’mon.” He didn’t spare me a second glance. I had to watch as Kie took off running towards him with Pope in tow. JJ held out his arms to catch her, arms she happily jumped into. John B lets out a humored shout while JJ spins Kiara around and they take off.

Leaving me all by myself. My parents nowhere in sight. 

And suddenly everything hit me at once. My dress was too tight, my heels were pinching at the skin on my feet, the music was too loud, my hair was a mess. Nothing I did was right. Once again, I was left alone. Abandoned by the one person I thought would never leave. All because I loved him too much and he hated everything I couldn’t control.

I stood there, feeling like a silly little girl in a silly little dress I spent hours looking for, urging him to look back. He never did. 

Authors note: I hope I hurt your feelings because I hurt my own writing this :) pls let me know what u think!!! I love hearing from you guys

Tagging my favs: @maybankslover @sipsthecoffee @alyisdead

[petew21-blog]

Friends for life

This Zack, my best childhood friend. When we were kids, we were basically inspereable. We spent so much time together. We slept over each tohers houses. Even better was the fact that our moms were best frinds. So not only they spend so much time together, but so did we. But that was 6 years ago. Everything changed when my dad died. Zack was there for me, but over time we grew apart. I had to help out my mum with my two sisters and she had to get another job to get enough money for us. Zack's mom on the other hand got divorced and found a new boyfriend. Who I heard didn't really get on well with Zack.

Me and Zack talked from time to time, but it was mainly superficial. Zack was now a very well respected guy in the school. He was always into sports. But now he was a swimmer, basketball and a football player as well. I don't know where he got all that time and energy. Even if we saw each other in the classroom we just smiled or waved at each other. Maybe even this very tiny friendship was the reason why no bullies dared to touch me. Not that Zack would every bully anyone, but if he knew that the other guys bullied someone, he always stood up for that person and ended it. And the bullies even apologized sometimes. That's how respected he was.

So yeah Zack's a jock and I am a classic nerd. Or maybe not classic. I don't really have much time to play games on the computer because of my job, but when I have some spare time I read comic books. So yeah, that makes me a nerd I suppose. And I do quite well at school too. Maybe not the PE, I kinda suck at that, but I get by.

Present time

Me and several other classmates were assigned to start decorating the halls for upcoming prom. Most of my classmates were really excited for that, but not me. I didn't have anyone to go with. Not anyone I wanted to atleast. Ok, I'll say it. I am gay, which complicates things a bit. And the person I would really like to go to prom with is Zack. But that will never happen. Zack is 100% striaght and it would totally ruin his reputation in the school.

But that doesn't stop me from obssessing about him. I saw him a few times in the locker rooms which gave me a pretty consistent image of how he changed over the years. He was pretty much the same Zack I grew up with, but I bet that his junk is much bigger than I remember. Truth be told, Zack was the first (and only) person who I had any sexual experience with. I know it sounds sus, but he only wanted to experiment jerking each other off as most boys do at their younger years. Back then I was really puzzled and didn't know what to do. Now I just wish I could go back to that moment once again.

I was one of the few remaining students. The rest headed to the shops to get their dresses and suits. I told them to leave and that I would finish it by myself, cause I wasn't planning on going anyway.

I entered the gym to get a ladder, to help me set up the last few letters over the door. And there he was, on the other side of the room. Zack was lifting some weights I didn't even know how to name. He noticed me battling with the ladder nd hurried up to help me. I mean... wouldn't you crush about him too?

Zack:"Hey, man. Nobody came to help you with this? It's pretty heavy."

Me:"Hey, no. They all left to get their suits and all. So it's just me now."

Zack:"Oh, that's sad. You need help with something?"

Me:"No, it's fine. It's just final touches. But thanks"

Zack:"All right, man. But if you need, don't hesitate to ask ok?"

He smiled and went back to finish his set.

I was basically drooling, As I was climbing the ladder and trying to reach the letters, I stumbled and grabbed onto a light. I must have been shocked or something cause then I found myself on the floor. But I wasn't on the ground, I was standing. And on the ground was my body, unconcious.

I looked at my hands and they were barely visible. I tried to reach my body but it wouldn't accept my soul. Fuck, am I dying? I tried to call out for Zack but he didn't hear me. I ran to him and saw him lifting his weights. I tried to reach for him, but before I did I felt a force pulling me towards him. And as I was pulled away I felt something being ejected out of his body.

I opened my eyes, looking in front of me. But Zack was gone now. I turned around but he wasn't anywhere. As I looked down, I noticed I was now wearing bright red shorts, and on top of that a very sweaty torso, which definitely wasn't mine. I reached out my hands. Fuck, is this really happening? I searched the pockets and found a phone. In its reflection I saw Zack's face. Oh my god. Did I really just possess Zack's body? And where is he?

The responsible flow of thoughts was now interrupted by the two huge sweaty biceps now in the way where I usually didn't mind them. I flexed and oh my god, the tightness, the strength. I felt amazing.

I knew it was bad, but I just had to give it a try. What if I might never have a chance to do this ever again, I stuck out my new tongue and licked my new shoulder all the way to my biceps. Which also allowed me now to inhale the scent of my sweaty armpit. "This is so amazing!"

I then proceeded to touch my new belly full off abs. "How the hell did he get these?"

"Lot of working out and calorie deficit" a voice called out from the other side of the room, where I was before. And there was my body. Standing.

"Zack? Is that you?"

"Yeah. Would you mind telling me how this happened?"

I wanted to be completely honest, I swear, but I think that he doesn't need to know the part where my soul travelled to his body and was pulled by it.

"So, are we gonna try to reverse it the same way? Cause your body is really hurting from the fall and my body needs to be ready for a game tommorow. So I'm not really sure about that"

"I'm really sorry about that Zack. I mean, you're right that maybe it was my near deth experience that caused this, but I don't know if endangering our lives would allow to swap us back. What if the other one dies and the remaining one will have to keep on living the other ones life?"

"Yeah, you're onto something. Well, we're gonna have to figure out how to pass on as each other."

We spoke some more about how we were gonna live our lives without anyone thinking we have gone crazy.

"Ok, Zack. Just one question. How about... you know. Private stuff?"

"You mean my personal things at home or phone? Well that shouldn't be so bad I think. I don't have many secrets to tell or something, haha"

"No, I mean. Eventually we're gonna have to take a shower or go to a toilet."

"Oh, right. I haven't thought of that. Well, than my body is your body? I mean, I don't really like to think about somebody else using my body like that, but I know you're a good person and all, so I know you'll treat my body well. Maybe just... no sex? Could you do that for me please?"

"Zach, I haven't had sex yet even in my body. I mean, your body is attractive and all so, I know I could get a date in your body or smth, but that's not something I would do."

"Ok, thanks man. Just making sure. And also another thing. I..."

"What is i Zack?"

"Give me a second, it's kind off embarasing for me. I have to jerk off in the evening everyday. If I don't I sometimes have wet dreams the next morning"

"Dude, that's nothing to be ashamed of. That happens, Zack"

"Thanks. I know you mean well, but I just know my body. So I know you'll have to take care of that now or you'll have a very unpleasant morning including the washing of the clothes and bed linens."

I felt Zack dick in my new shorts getting hard just by hearing about this. Not only am I in the body of my crush, but he himself gave me permission to jerk off his dick. How crazy is that?

"Ok, Zack. If that's what needs to be done, I'll do it." I said it in a way to make it sound like I wasn't thrilled to jerk off his dick

"And in exchange I'll get to jerk off your dick. Do you have any other secrets I should know about?"

OH FUCK NO I am not telling him "Well... not really. I think."

"Good, then let's get to it. In case you won't know what to do, just text me and I'll help you"

I was approaching Zack's house. The one where I basically grew up secondary to mine. I knew where all the rooms were. What stuff was placed where. But that was before the death of my dad and before the divorce. Who knows what's different

I entered the house anticipating horrible things. And then a strange man left the restroom. "Hey, dipshit. Back from school already? Jesus fuck. The kids these days. Why don't you get a job kid" he left for the kitchen to grab himself a cold beer and left for the living room.

Now I understand why Zack spent so much time at school doing sports. He didn't want to stay at home longer than necessary.

Anyway, up to Zack's room. His room was not filthy, it was kind of clean, but at the same time it was a but disorganized. Some of his used clothes were lying on the ground. I grabbed one of his boxers and grabbed it to my face. This is my smell now. The smell of my dick. I inhaled and held it to my nose.

As I felt my dick hardening, I didn't waste no time and started undressing myself. Zack's small mirror didn't do the trick for me so I left to the bathroom.

"Ok, modern shower. That's new. Gonna have to give it a go"

I took off all my remaining clothes. I left his necklace on and then just stared at my new reflection in the mirror. How amazing is this?

I touched his jawline, his already growing beard, scratching my hand. His lips, shivering underneath my touch. His beautiful nose. His eyes, that now contained my soul and not his looked a bit different, but same too. I took my right hand and place it on my neck while my left hand was already enjoying the hairtrail blow my stomach.

"Oh Zack, I think you'd be the type to shave. Might do that for you to fully embrace this massive beast" and with that I lowered my right hand that was before resting on my vibrating throat and now started jerking my new dick.

"Just doing what I had been told. Haha"

I jerked faster. I was slightly moaning but not loud enough to cause suspicion with Zack's step dad. I was observing the tense muscles just working hard to get me into the state of pure euphoria.

I was getting close. I couldn't stop myself from moaning. I jerked so hard that the cum flew out of my dick right to the mirror in front of me. Is I stood there, smiling with my semi-hard dick in my hand I just saw the door swung open.

I quickly covered my dick and whole self with a towel, but even the partial view could give the viewer enough information. His step dad was furious

"What the hell you fucker?!? You're jerking off here while you could do some usefull job instead? I will have a very long talk with your mother when she gets here!"

What the hell just happened. Why is he so mad at Zack all the time. He's a student and a busy one at that. I don't know what this guy's problem is

I cleaned up the bathroom and got ready for the next time. Just the fact that I got the privilege to smell Zack's scent all the time and sleep in his bed. But having his body was a whole new level. I never even dreamed of this

The next day was horrible. I started the day with PE at school and let me tell you, that having a great body full of muscles is one thing. But having a weak will to actually do it is another. I was exhausted. I felt like I wouldn't be able to get up again after finishing

I saw Zack aproaching me in my body with a concerned look. I was beggining to worry what was on his mind

Zack:"Hey... umm how was your first night as me?"

Me:"Gotta say that the stepdad you got there is an another level of douchebag. I can't believe how you can live with that"

Zack:"Yeah, he is like that all the time. I don't know what mom sees in him. He's actually super nice to her, but seems to hate me just for breathing"

Me:"Yeah. I'll tell you later. There has been a bit of embarassing encounter"

Zack:"Actually I might ask you about something else first. Last night as I was in the bed I was trying to jerk off your dick, very nice by the way"

Me:"Jesus, don't make it more awkward than it is"

Zack:"Sorry. We'll I was trying to jerk off as I normally would, watching porn and stuff, but I couldn't. Then my mind wandered over to the guy on the video... I have to ask you and don't be afraid to answer. Are you gay?"

Me:"Yeah... I've been meaning to tell you for a long time. Well... since we're already saying everything to each other. I'll just admit it right now. I... I have a crush on you Zack"

Zack:"That was my another question. I have my head filled with thoughts. Very naughty thoughts including my body, so I am happy that you cleared this up and I am not just another self centered weirdo. But the question is. Would you let me suck my dick?"

Oh man

Another story from the inbox: Can you do a classic swap story between a nerd and a straight jock? I always find those to be super hot

Hey guys. Sorry for the great break. I was finishing my exams (I passed them all, yay) and now I am in a different country on an externship trying to figure shit out. But I do have some free time during the day and I get to write a bit about my drafts and the stories in your inbox. And thanks to everyone who texted me all the supportive and kind words :) really appreciate it

[vivwritesfics]

Fire Is The Devil's Only Friend

Chapter One

There was no such thing as making it on your own with a high profile boyfriend. That was why she kept her relationship a secret. But then after a PR fuck up, her boyfriend is forced into PR relationship and she's left on the side lines, missing him

Warnings: smut, marking up, breeding kink carlos

1.3K

Thank to so freaking much to @darleneslane for the idea for this one! Im so obsessed

Series Masterlist

What is it with interviewers and always asking personal questions? The interview was supposed to be about her new book, and all she was being asked about was potential boyfriends.

She laughed and brushed on the question several times. She couldn't refuse to answer the question; that would just send more curiosity her way. And if she said she was single? Her inbox would be full of flirtatious messages.

Yes, she already had a boyfriend. They'd been together before she had made it big, when she was desperately trying to get somebody to read at least a single page of her writings.

She didn't know who he was when they first met. He was twenty five, gorgeous and oh so charming. It was so easy to fall for him. She fell in love with everything about him, and he with her. Nobody had ever asked her about herself and her writing at the level he did.

On every date he insisted on paying. She wasn't entirely comfortable about it, but she was a struggling author and she had very little money.

She realised who he was when he invited her to a Grand Prix. Initially she had declined. If he had enough money to take the both of them to a Grand Prix, she'd never be able to repay him.

Carlos asked again. It was late, they'd spent the day together and he'd made her dinner. They sat together on the couch, her body against his and his arms around her. "Come with me to a Grand Prix," he asked again and kissed the top of her head.

"Carlos, I can't," she said and turned towards him, her head on his chest.

Carlos kissed the top of her head. "Please," he tried again. "I could really use your support out there."

Suddenly she was sitting up. "You're a driver?" She asked, brows furrowed.

"Mi querida, you didn't know?"

She shook her head. "I thought you were just a really big Ferrari fan or something," she admitted.

Carlos couldn't stop the laugh that left his lips. He opened his arms wide once again and she fell against him. "So, are you coming to the Grand Prix with me?" He asked and she nodded her head.

But it wasn't as simple as that. She realised that the day after she agreed to go. She realised that the moment she got that all important email from a publishing house. The email that would change the trajectory of her life.

As upset that Carlos was that she changed her mind on the Grand Prix with him, he understood. As much as he wanted there, he accepted that she'd be supporting him from her apartment.

Nobody knew about her relationship with the Spanish Formula One driver. Her friends were constantly trying to set her up, but none of the men they introduced her to could hold a candle to Carlos. Not that she went on a date with any of these men. Not when she had Carlos.

The day her book was published, a year after she got that first email, she received an invite to the Ferrari garage. She looked at Carlos across the room and he just smirked.

He strode across the room and stood behind the couch, where she sat with notebooks spread around her. "Please, mi corazón," he said, his hand resting on her shoulders as he leaned over her.

She tipped her head back to look up at him. "Okay," she whispered and Carlos leaned down to kiss her.

But then he jumped over the sofa and pulled her to her feet. He pulled her into his arms and spun her around. "You have no idea how happy that makes me," he said and kissed her again.

She set rules. With her book coming out she didn't want to be seen with him, holding his hand or kissing him. She wanted sales off of her own merit, not because Carlos's fans wanted to support her, as sweet as it was.

"One day," he said, his forehead pressed against hers.

"One day," she agreed and kissed him.

She wanted to be there for the entire weekend, but she had meetings with her publisher and her own public relations team. The release of her book was the Wednesday after the Grand Prix and the publishers media team was working hard to push it.

The Grand Prix was a weekend to relax for her. At least, when it came to publishing her book. For the entire Grand Prix she'd have her nails between her teeth, anxiously chewing them.

She was in the Ferrari garage for the race. Nobody quite knew who she was. When the cameras zoomed in on her, the title card beneath her name just said 'indie author', which wasn't strictly true.

It was her first Grand Prix. Carlos was so close to a podium, just missing out. Still, she'd kiss him and celebrate later as though he'd won a world championship.

Carlos watched as Max held Kelly close, as Sergio held his wife and Charles held Alexandra. He wanted that, more than anything he wanted to hold his girl.

Soon, he'd be holding her soon.

That night, hidden away in their hotel room, Carlos wrapped his strong arms around her. His hips moved against her as she moaned and writhed beneath him. He kissed her neck, bit and nibbled, sucking at the skin there.

The bed squeaked as he moved, thrusting into her. "I'm gonna put my baby in you," he grunted, eyes shut as she clenched around him. Her legs shook as she came around him and Carlos let out breathy grunts.

He came, his thrusts sloppy as his seed painted her walls. His forehead was against hers as he pulled out and laid down beside her, wrapping his arms around her.

"I love you," she whispered and kissed his nose.

Carlos pulled her into his warm body. "I love you," he whispered back. They fell asleep like that, a tangle of limbs, wrapped in each others loving embrace. For the first time in a year, Carlos was happy to be falling asleep beside the girl he loved after a race.

As they fell asleep, in the early hours of the morning, something very different was happening with the staff of the Ferrari F1 team. Well, for one particular member of the Ferrari F1 team, things were very different.

Maybe the employee was disgruntled, unhappy with their job. They had information that nobody else had, which is why they released it to the world. That was the one piece of power they had as a social media admin.

The post was only online for seconds before another admin took it down. But that was long enough for fifty thousand people to have screenshots. All of the dirty secrets Ferrari had been hiding from the fans. Details of sordid affairs and more. Scuderia Ferrari had been laid bare for the world to see.

The PR team worked through the night. They had to do something, something that would distract the world. "Who is the girl that's been coming to the garage?" Asked a member of the team.

"Who, the author?"

The team member shook her head. "The model. Rebecca something."

"Rebecca Donaldson?"

The team member pointed her pen towards her colleague. "Bingo. We set her up with Carlos and it should take the heat off of us for a while."

It was decided. Carlos Sainz, who the world thought was single, was going to be set up with Rebecca Donaldson to distract the world from the Ferrari blunder.

The ring buried away in his bag would certainly have something to say about it.

Permanent Taglist: @biancathecool @rewmuslupin @prettiest-at-the-party @hellowgoodbye @minkyungseokie @formulaal @hiireadstuff @urfavnoirette @goldenharrysworld @andydrysdalerogers @hrts4scarr @llando4norris @evlkking @lilymurphy03

[megamett44-lover]

can you do the reader seeing matt with a little kid (around 5 or 6) and getting some crazy baby fever? thank youu <3

UGH I LOVE THIS

Matt Sturniolo x Reader

Summary: In which Y/n brings Matt to her family reunion

Warnings/Notes: She/her pronouns

Requested? Yes!

Dress Up

Bringing Matt home with me for my annual family reunion was insisted upon by my parents. My whole family absolutely adored him, always asking me to bring him around more. Hence why now, here we were, about a ten minute drive away from my grandparents home, where everyone would be meeting.

Having never met my extended family before, it was understandable for Matt to be nervous. He held my hand as he drove, lightly brushing his thumb over my knuckles every few seconds.

“You okay?” I ask, squeezing his hand lightly.

He looks over at me, trying to hide his nervous expression. “All good.” He says.

I nod, turning my attention back to the road. “You don’t have to stress, everyone is gonna love you.”

He chuckles. “If I can win your dad over, I’m sure I can do anything.”

I roll my eyes. “Please.” I say. “You never had to win him over. He was practically calling you ‘son’ before he even met you.”

“Right.” Matt laughs.

Siri breaks our conversation, telling us to turn left and our destination would be on the right. As we pulled into my grandparents drive way, a wave of nostalgia hit me. The long gravel path leading to an old white plantation house surrounded by the most beautiful flowers. I had helped my grandmother plant different flowers in her garden for many Summers when I was younger. The neatly trimmed hedges wrapping around the edge of the porch that my grandfather always insisted on keeping up himself because “nobody else could do the job right.”

I noticed many other cars parked out front, indicating a lot of my family members were already here. As we parked, I kissed the back of Matt’s hand. “Ready!” I asked.

“For sure.” Matt smiled.

As we walked onto the porch, the sound of laughter could be heard from inside. We didn’t even have a chance to knock before my grandmother opened the door.

“My Y/n!” She said, embracing me. “I’ve missed you so much!”

“Hi, Gran.” I say, returning her hug.

As we pulled away, she noticed Matt beside me.

“Now this must be the young man I’ve heard so much about.” She smiles at Matt.

“All good things, I hope.” Matt chuckles nervously.

I laugh. “Gran, this is my boyfriend, Matt.”

“Pleasure to meet you dear.” My grandmother says, embracing Matt as well. Pulling away, she smiles at us both. “Well come on, everyone has been asking for you.”

Walking instep with my grandmother and Matt slightly ahead, she leans in and whispers softly. “He’s handsome!”

“Oh, Gran!” I laugh.

“I’m serious!” She says. “If I was only 60 years younger, I’d give you a run for your money.”

As we walked into the crowded parlor, we were greeted by a chorus of “Hey” and “Welcome home”. A lot of family come up to me, since the last time I had seen most of them I was young. Most of them were eager to meet Matt, having heard I was dating a “famous Los Angeles boy”.

Excusing myself for a moment, I go grab a couple waters for Matt and I from the kitchen.

“Oh hey, Y/N.” My aunt says, seeing me enter. Her and a collection of other family members were working on tonight’s dinner, the smell immediately making me hungry.

“Smells great in here.” I compliment, grabbing two bottles of water from the fridge.

“Thanks!” She beams at me. “Oh, your cousins are around here looking for you. They wouldn’t stop talking about how excited they were to see you.”

I laugh. “I’ll keep a look out for them.”

My aunt and uncle had two twin girls, Charlotte and Katherine. They had just turned six and they were adorable. I had spent a lot of my youth babysitting them, resulting in me having an older sister relationship with the girls.

Walking back to the parlor, I notice most of the family had gone to the back yard. Scanning the yard, I cannot seem to see Matt anywhere. I grab my phone to text him, but then I hear giggling coming from down the hall followed by a deeper laugh that I recognize to be Matt’s.

Walking down the hall, I notice the light in the playroom is on. I hear a few voices coming from inside.

“We’re going to make you look so pretty.” I hear a young voice that I recognize to be Katherine’s says.

“Oh, really?” Matt asks.

“Yes!” Charlotte assures. “Y/n is going to love it!”

I peek in the doorway to the playroom to see Matt sat on the floor, with my cousins braiding his hair. I notice he has a few hair bows in, along with a feather boa around his neck.

I giggle softly, watching my cousins give him a makeover.

“Can we paint your nails?” Charlotte eagerly asks.

Matt looks down at his nails, the old paint peeling off of them.

“I think I’m in need of a manicure, so sure!” Matt agrees.

“Kat, grab the princess stickers and pink polish!” Charlotte demands.

Hearing this, I accidentally laugh too loud, giving my position away. All three of their heads whip in my direction.

“Y/N!” Charlotte and Katherine say in unison, running up and hugging my legs.

“Hi, girls.” I say, bending down to hug them. “I see you’ve stolen my boyfriend.”

“Don’t you think he looks pretty?” Katherine asks, motioning towards Matt.

“I think he looks gorgeous.” I say, making eye contact with Matt, who chuckles softly.

“We were going to paint his nails, do you wanna help?” Charlotte asks.

“Of course!” I say, eagerly.

“Yay!” Both girls say in unison.

Sitting down, we begin painting Matt’s nails a bright shade of pink, complete with princess stickers on every other finger. When we were finished, we slowly walk Matt over to the mirror to check out his new look.

“I look awesome!” Matt says, bending down to the girls level. “Thank you, girls.” He opens his arms for a hug, as both girls practically tackle him.

I smile softly, my heart warming at the sight.

“I think next time, we should bring our princess dress for you to wear.” Katherine says.

Matt laughs. “I think that would be amazing.”

“Yeah, but we have to bring the Cinderella dress.” Charlotte says. Katherine raises a puzzled eyebrow. “To match his eyes, duh!”

“What do you think, Y/n?” Charlotte asks.

“I think he would make a beautiful Cinderella.” I smile, causing Matt and the girls to laugh.

A loud voice interrupts our laughter from the kitchen.

“Girls, dinner!” I hear my Uncle call.

“Our dad wants us!” Katherine tells Matt. “But we’ll finish this makeover another day.”

“I’ll be counting on it.” Matt winks, ruffling her hair.

The girls laugh as they run down the hall to the kitchen. I look at Matt, who’s covered in glitter from the feather boa.

“I’ll be their Cinderalla, as long as I’m your Prince Charming.” Matt says, pulling the boa off.

I laugh. “God, you’re cheesy.” I grab his hands, looking at the pink artwork on his fingernails. “I can’t wait to have this life with you one day.”

He pulls me into a hug, covering me in glitter. “I promise, one day, we’ll have all of this.” He says. “Every day.”

I lean back, grabbing one of the braided strands of hair. “I’m really digging these braids, though.”

“Yeah?” Matt laughs.

“Yeah.” I smile, pressing a small kiss on his lips.

“Now c’mon, I’m starving!” I say, leading him to the kitchen.

Matt stops on his tracks. “What, dressed like this?” He asks.

I smirk. “What, you embarrassed?”

“Never.” He replies, putting his boa back on before we exit the playroom.

[lotus-slumbers]

Yandere batfamily x addict reader?

Would they exploit and manipulate the reader, making em solely dependent on the family for their fix — either to originally trap them at the manor or continuing to supply em forever, because it makes the reader dependant on them, acting all cuddly and desperate. or would they reform and sober up the reader? Have em go through a whole rehabilitation process style.

Gotham’s not safe for the poor reader, imagine all the villains who’d kill em for the drugs they’re so dependent on? But it’s okay! Because the Wayne’s will protect em. Whether the reader wants them to or not isn’t up for debate.

If you’re uncomfortable with this topic I totally understand. Just send me a message to say pls??

Yandere! Batfam x Addict! Reader Headcannons

Tw: addiction, substance abuse, etc.

— If there was anything that could accelerate the Batfam abducting adopting their darling sooner, this would be it.

— In their eyes, this is a type of abuse. Abuse from all of those around you and nobody is safe from the pointing of their accusatory finger. Not even those people who truly are innocent and have tried to help.

— You may notice people around you drawing away, avoiding you. Maybe some friends who you used to talk with who shared the same addiction, others a dealer who supplied you.

— Though, you may not notice this at all because they'll work quick.

— The term "self-harm" is thrown around once while discussing your habitual substance abuse and that's it. That's all it takes to make them snap and agree unanimously that, yes, this is for the best. Today is the day, if they have everything completely set up for you or not.

— Within twenty-four hours, you'll be in the manor with your family. Right where you belong.

— Rich people get same-day delivery!! Woohoo!! 🙌 🚚

— Of course, that isn't the only motivator for the Wayne's to take you. As much as it pains them to see you suffering at your own hands, they understand just how well the scum of Gotham can and will hurt you.

— They'll take care of the vermin that supplied and enabled you all the same. They have a duty to Gotham, it was going to happen eventually, just now there might be a little bit more passion to it... They won't tell you about it, though.

— The Batfam would most definitely attempt to nip the problem in the bud, forcing you to go cold turkey immediately.

— Bruce will have everything thought out. He's spent countless hours since learning about your issues researching in depth everything he could possibly need to know.

— They have patches at the ready for you when you start to feel the effects of withdrawal. They have stress balls and plenty of activities to try and keep your mind elsewhere and on other things.

— And eyes on you, always.

— And a bracelet, pressed snuggly against your skin and seemingly impossible to get off, to monitor your health. Reports directly at their fingertips, whenever they want it.

— They want you in the best condition they can have you. Not just physically, but mentally too. Bruce would most likely like to have one-on-one conversations with you, about life before, your transitioning here, and, of course, how you are doing with withdrawal.

— If he thinks you're not doing a good enough job with him, he can always pay for the best help available. With his amount of money, nobody has to know either... So don't think of asking them to help you. You won't be believed or they simply won't do it.

— Bruce, Dick, and Jason would probably be the worse about lecturing you on it. Mention withdrawal to them or any desire to return to what you once had... Oh boy, good luck.

— Bruce would go on and on about your health. How he loves you. Wants what is best for you, even if you cannot see it. A deep look of disappointment and concern behind his eyes. He won't school it, he wants to to see it. Feel it and stop. Grow into the person he knows you can be, with their help. Let him protect you.

— Dick is fairly similar to Bruce in this regard, although he is a little more relaxed, trying to be on your level while also acting as your "older brother," something he takes much pride in. He'll probably baby you more than the others, offering to help find alternatives and promise rewards for your efforts (not that you have much of a choice in the matter).

— Jason, though? Jason Todd, the little boy who grew up on the streets? Watch the lives of those he loved so much be ruined and so cruelly snatched away by these exact things? No way. It hits way too close to home, especially since it's you.

— He's understanding towards you so long as you don't push too far. One mention of wanting it and he's on your ass, telling you off about it. He'll help with withdrawal. He'll help you get over it, be a shoulder to lean on and a friend to laugh with, but, God, don't you dare threaten him like that ever again.

— Tim helps with Bruce and his plans most of all, going through all the little details to help plan out the smoothest way to go about this.

— Damian is pissed that you would even ever do any of this in the first place, beating you in his weakest, more frustrated moments but this reaffirms to him that you need him.

— Really, this reaffirms all of them that, despite any guilt, they may feel for the "crimes" they committed for you, it was the right choice. That their darling needed them, desperately.

— They'll never give up on you, not in your darkest moments or theirs. They love you, through and through, and would give the world to you if only you asked.

— But they'd never, ever let you do that to yourself. Your last high was the last time you would ever, ever be.

— They know they could supply you, that it could be an easy way to control you and gain your love. Love that they are so desperately longing for, wanting to be returned, but they won't do it. They can't do that. Not to you of all people.

— It goes against their very nature, as it would harm you.

— You'll learn to love them eventually. It isn't like there is a real rush. You're not going anywhere at all. They'll take the long, high road.

— Batfam will protect you to their last breath and love you through and through. You don't need to do a thing.

— The only reason they would ever supply you is if they truly had no other options. If you were super-powered in a way they could not find a way to contain or around people they couldn't take you away from. Which is a highly unlikely possibility.

💜 A/n: Sorry that this took me so long to get to. Hopefully, it's not too typo-ridden and you enjoy it!

This is not meant to glorify any type of substance abuse or any type of addiction. This was my first time writing for such so please, if I made a mistake in my handling of the subject, reach out and let me know!

For substance abuse treatment and mental health referrals, contact the Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration's (SAMHSA) National Helpline at 1-800-662-HELP (4357).

You are loved beyond measure.

[adventuringblind]

Don't Wanna Do This Again

Loscar x Reader

Genre: hurt/comfort

Summary: Logan finds out about his car at the 2024 Australian GP and it's affecting him more then he wants to let on.

Warnings: Sad Logan, Protective Oscar, Mildly feral Reader, Mentions of a past suicide attempt, insecurity.

Notes: Nobody asked for this but ima do it anyway

Side Note: My inbox is open if you wanna come chat with me :)

Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi

Of all the things that could've happened, this was not the one he was expecting. Being punished for a crime he didn't commit... it makes his skin crawl with anger and insecurity.

In the end, he knew it had to be done. Alex has more experience, he's the better driver and their best chance at scoring any kind of points. Logan had spent the last few hours pacing the room, mulling over all the reasons this is logical. The reasons he shouldn't be upset about this.

It just - it doesn't cancel out all the feelings he's having about it. No matter how much he rationalizes it, he's still upset. With Alex, James, the team, but most of all - with himself. He's not good enough to be here. He's here for one reason and that is to be the token American and bring in more American fans because money. Which can't be good for the people getting the money, considering he's probably getting all their eyes stuck in the back of their heads from rolling them so hard each time he crashes out.

He needs her or Oscar, or both of them. Immediately before he can drown in the waves of emotions that are raging. Until then, he's going to continue the repetitive motion of pacing this hotel room. Further allowing himself to think a hole into the floor.

Then the door slams open. "Logan!" She does end up sending them both to the ground since he wasn't expecting the full force of her weight. "You weren't there so we panicked. Searched all of Williams before we ran into Alex and he told us what happened..." She's all the way wrapped around him now despite having to wriggle her limbs between his body and the floor.

"She tried to punch him." Oscar, who's stoic expression to most reads a million emotions to him, decided to sit on the floor next to them. He heaves Logan's head into his lap. One of his favorite spots because his thighs.

"...Did you get him?"

"No! Oscar stopped me before I could! The he dragged me out of the paddock because apparently setting fire to your garage 'won't solve the problem.'" She does her best Oscar impersonation. Something about it makes him feel calmer. It may not be getting his car back, but he knows they are willing to fight for him.

"Arson is never the answer; sabotage is." The words leave his lips so casually that Logan and the female have to take a second to register it.

Logan blinks up at him. "Osc, what did you do?"

"Absolutely nothing."

There is a silence that follows because both of them know he's lying. Oscar is sneaky and ruthless when he wants to be. Logan shoots him a look of disbelief.

"Okay, so I might have moved a bunch of the mechanics tools while they were out of the garage prepping for the change of parts. They may or may not be hidden around the garage and in inconvenient locations... and I might have also moved everyone's headphones around."

Logan nearly bursts. The small act was still one that was in his defense. Not blatant or in the teams face, just Oscar making them think it's karma or something.

The female, who's been peppering any area within reach with kisses, freezes when Oscar finishes. "How did I not notice this?!"

"You were busy trying to escape from Lando to fight James. It wasn't that difficult, really."

She grumbles something incoherent into Logan's chest. Obviously flustered at the idea of not being able to take revenge the way she intended and Oscar having all the fun in the meantime.

It's nice, the soft tender touches and the loving words. How he can say with such confidence that the two people here with him, comforting him, when they could be doing anything else, that they love him.

Logan chokes. The weight of all the emotions finally breaking through the dam everyone else is trying to poke holes in. The hands that were holding her gently despite her death grip, are now clutching at the fabric of her shirt like his life depends on it.

"Shh, let it out now Lo. This can't have been easy." Oscar is still carding his hands through the mess of blonde hair. "William's made a poor choice in the eyes of most."

"But it's the most logical choice! It makes sense they would give Alex my car. Why can't I just suck it up and move on?"

The is a soft hum against his chest, then a thumb - her thumb - stroking his jawline in a comforting repetitive motion. "Because you're allowed to feel, Logan. You're allowed to hurt. What you're not allowed to do is let this break you. You've spent all winter training, working, practicing, and building your confidence to let this one thing destroy that. If you need to scream, if you need to punch something - then fine." It takes a second to register that she's also crying. "Just don't try to leave us again... please."

"I'm not leaving. Not when I have you two here. Not when I still have people to prove wrong."

He can hear the smirk on Oscar's voice despite not being in the best position to confirm it. "Good, because I need you to record the engineers and James for me. And we would miss your pretty face, but you already know that."

They stay there until the sun goes down. Just breathing, being in the moment. Their phones off so nobody can bother them.

Until a knock on the door has Oscar moving. The other two groan at the loss, but are happy at the discovery of food.

"When did you order room service?"

"While you two were asleep."

Logan must have really been out of it given he had no idea he was asleep. The smell of food makes his mouth water, he hadn't eaten since the morning.

More then that - Oscar is indulging in his comfort food. "I figured you could use a cheat day after this."

"I should have bad days more often if it means you'll get me food." It's a half hearted laugh mixed with a grimace.

"No, you can have this whenever you want. Don't need to wait for the bad days to do something nice for yourself." The, still half asleep, female who is refusing to detach from him, says into his shoulder.

It's not like he can stop himself from feeling the whirlwind of emotions, but he has people to ground him.

Because the bad days come, but it makes the good days even better.

[decolonize-the-everything]

Ismatu Gwendolyn said this on a live and it stuck with me so I want to ask y'all something.

Cuz it's important in all the discourse and yelling to remember that you're not getting so caught up in rage-bait and fighting that the fight itself has more of your attention than liberation. It's just as important to be capable of imagining a future as much as destruction.

So the question is:

What do you fight for; what are some of the things you would do if you were free?

•

I'd breathe clean air.

I'd drink natural and clean water from my my tap.

I'd live in one of the millions of currently empty houses and my power would come from whatever resource my native land stewards had decided was best. My kid would learn from their teachings some days, some spent at home just learning how to be a person (cooking, cleaning, etc), and some days she'd go attend a school that's taken her neurodivegence & health into account when making her personal learning plan. Her teachers are experienced in social studies and local history, others in CRT or emotional intelligence/mindfulness, although her fav teachers are definitely her music tutor and her queer history teacher cuz she really likes all the flags.

My gf is off doing whatever she wants to do to uphold her role to the earth and her community and I'm taken care of while she does. Maybe by student nurses (since I'm not high needs) who want to be nurses and actually care about me. I know this because they don't Need this job to feed their families or for any other reason.

Our community feeds them because they want to in the same way those nurses take care of me because they want to and I take care of my daughter because I want to and she takes care of the local stray animals because she wants to.

We take care of each other because we take care of each other and we want each other to keep doing that and it's in everyone's best interest that everyone is happy and fed and supported and housed and treated fairly.

Nobody is forced to anything for blood money. So blood money doesn't exist anymore.

I can order a drink and I don't have to go home to Google whether or not I took part in genocide because there are no systems that allow for it to happen and nobody is oppressed or scared enough to feel forced into enacting/justifying one anyway. There is no military industrial complex.

And yeah, maybe some people don't work but it's fine because everyone always has enough. There is no faux rage about societal leeches.

They're just people who enjoy existing. People doing the thing all of us have been fighting for them to do and so nobody is bitter about it. We're beyond that. We're glad to see our kids and grandkids have easier lives than us. Just like they're glad to have so much to learn from their elders.

And when I wake up in the mornings? I have never felt more rested in my life.

•

Godddd imagine the sleep with a life like that. Like that alone would change my life 😩

P.s: And nobody would've assumed the teachers or anyone else in my story were cishet or white people either, amen

[the-guilty-writer]

A Prentiss Genius

Request from anon: Prentiss sibling being smarter than Reid. They work in England but is visiting their sister. And in the end it’s just Reid and reader playing poker and chess. (And freaking out the rest of the BAU)

Bonus points if it is an autistic reader

Emily Prentiss x sibling!reader, Spencer Reid x platonic!reader

Summary: When another Prentiss comes from across the pond for a visit, they give the BAU’s genius a run for his money.

A/N: this was fun to write. I hope it’s fun to read! Thanks for the request. Feedback is always appreciated.

CW: typical criminal minds things, mentions of a case, reader gets slightly overstimulated.

---

You put on your best headphones- the strongest noise canceling ones money could buy- and tried your best not to panic as you ducked through the busy airport. On the plane you were able to distract yourself by thinking about the mechanics of the aircraft and how everything was built and engineered. It had gotten you through the flight, but the airport was a different battle.

Emily had been precise about where she was meeting you- something you were grateful for. When it came to busy places like this you didn’t like guessing games. Someone brushed up against you lightly and you felt your body begin to tense. Physical contact was bound to happen in a place this crowded, but that didn’t stop the build of pressure inside you. If you didn’t relieve that pressure soon, you might explode.

Thankfully, your sister was exactly where she told you she would be- sitting on the silver bench closest to the baggage claim trolley for your flight. Just the sight of her helped you relax, and when you saw that she had already taken it upon herself to grab your luggage so you wouldn’t have to be in the crowded building any longer than necessary it helped you relax even more.

She smiled when she spotted you. After a whole year of not seeing one another she had changed her hair style, her signature lip gloss color, and had obviously bought a nicer pair of boots, but her smile never changed. She also knew better than to talk to you or touch you before you got someplace quiet- your sister knew you like nobody else and for that, you were grateful.

Once you were finally in the passenger seat of her SUV, you took off your headphones and took a deep breath. Emily swung herself up into the drivers side and looked over to you. She offered her hand to you and you gladly reached to lock your pinky finger around hers for just a second- a Prentiss pinky hug, something the two of you had invented when you were children and Emily discovered that sometimes a real hug was too much for you to handle.

“I missed you, Em,” you said.

Emily smiled. “I missed you too, (Y/N).” She knew better than to ask you how your flight was. “But now you’re stuck in the States with me for a whole week.”

“You should have seen Easter’s face when I told him I was actually taking a vacation,” you laughed.

“Yeah, well, you haven’t met my boss yet,” Emily said. She turned on the car and began to pull out of the parking space.

“Yet?” you asked.

Emily sighed. “Yeah. I’ve gotta go back to the office for a few hours to finish some stuff up. I can drop you off at the apartment if you need some quiet time. It’ll just be you and Sergio.”

You thought about it for a moment- weighing the pros and cons. Emily’s team had become a family to her. She knew all the people you worked with at the London Interpol office, so it only seemed right that you knew the people she spent most of her time with. Plus, if you were being honest, you didn’t want to be alone in a strange apartment right now.

“I’ll come with you,” you told her.

Emily smiled again. “It’ll be quick.”

But you knew Emily’s job. You worked a similar one back in England. Time at the office was never quick.

---

The BAU bullpen wasn’t all the different from the office back in London. Normally you would have felt overwhelmed in a new environment with phones ringing and people walking about, but the familiarity of it all was comforting.

You followed Emily to her desk and the two of you were quickly approached by a tall, buff, black man. Emily had already told you all about her team, so it came to no surprise when the first thing that he said was, “Well, Emily, aren't you going to introduce us to your friend?” in a playful manner.

“Oh, (Y/N), this is Derek Morgan, and Morgan, this is my sibling, (Y/N),” Emily introduced you.

Derek smiled. “It’s nice to finally meet you in person.”

“It’s nice to meet you too,” you said to him.

The glass doors of the bullpen opened and a woman in a bright yellow dress hurried in. Derek turned to her. “Baby girl, where are you in such a hurry?”

The woman didn’t respond. She simply shuffled quickly up the stairs and into someone’s office. You watched as she talked to a dark-haired man who was sitting behind a large wooden desk. His expression was stoic, but when he got up from his seat he walked with purpose.

“Team in the conference room, now. Even you, Prentiss,” the man said as he walked towards what you assumed was the conference room. Derek said something about gathering Reid and JJ- two names you recognized- and walked off.

Emily sighed heavily. “I’m sorry, (Y/N).”

“It’s fine.” You shrugged. “I get it. I had to flee the country so they didn’t pull me into a case.”

Emily laughed as she walked toward the conference room. “That’s why I usually come to you. Hopefully it’s just an emergency consult. Make yourself at home. There’s tea in the kitchen!” She disappeared behind the conference room door.

You made yourself comfortable at your sister’s desk. The star puzzle you had given her years ago sat at one corner. You pulled it from its place and took it apart before piecing it back together. Most people said it was impossible, but puzzles had always been easy for you and they should be considering you had an IQ of 188.

Out of curiosity, you looked up at the conference room. You couldn’t hear what they were saying, but you could see the images on the screen. A slim blonde lady with a remote was gesturing to the images. She pressed a button and the picture changed. It was a picture you had seen before- no. It was a picture of something you had seen before.

Your inherent curiosity carried you forward and before you knew it you were standing in the doorway of the conference room, the star puzzle still in your hand, your gaze unwavering from the screen.

“I’ve seen that before.” The words came out of your mouth before you could stop them. You were so entranced by the image you didn’t even notice all the people looking at you.

“Who are you?” The words of the stoic man broke your trance.

Emily stood up from her spot at the table and came to your side. “This is my sibling, (Y/N). (Y/N) this is Agents Hotchner, Rossi, Jereau, Penelope Garcia, and Dr. Reid.” She gestured around at the people at the table.

“How have you seen this before?” Rossi asked.

“I work for Interpol,” you explained. “The symbol carved into the wrist on the victim- it’s the same symbol that a European hacking group used to sign their viruses. We shut them down about a year ago but I had a suspicion that there might be more members outside of the continent we hadn’t found yet.”

“Well that narrows it down a lot,” Derek said.

“Tell the NYPD that we’re on our way, JJ. Wheels up in twenty. You too, Prentiss,” Hotch said to your sister.

“No, no wait,” you said. Everybody sat down and looked at one another. “The body was found in New York?”

“Yes,” JJ said. “Is there something wrong with that?”

“They’ve murdered two times before this; once in Brussels and again in Israel. They left the bodies in Antwerp and Tel Aviv, the largest cities, but the group’s headquarters were in the capital cities of Brussels and Jerusalem. It’s a forensic countermeasure. Chances are the group is here in DC. My guess is that you don’t have the right software to track them, but your counter intelligence division should.”

The team looked around at one another. “Garcia, go down to counter intelligence and see if they will allow you access into their system,” Hotch instructed. Garcia scurried from the room. “(Y/N), is there anything else we should know?”

You let out a heavy sigh. “This might take a while.”

Rossi smiled. “Then pull up a chair.”

---

It didn’t take long for Garcia to locate the headquarters. Soon enough, the team was gearing up to go out on a take-down.

“Prentiss,” Hotch said. You looked up at the call of your name, but he was talking to Emily. “We’re going to need you to come with us.”

Emily looked towards you. “Will you be okay here by yourself?”

Today had been a lot for you- between hours on a plane, then navigating the busy airport, and meeting and working with several new people. It was rather draining.

“I can stay with them,” Reid offered. “The medical doctor still hasn’t cleared my knee for running or climbing.”

You and Emily locked pinky fingers for a second before she followed the rest of her team out of the room, leaving you alone with the young doctor.

You were beginning to become bored with the star puzzle- you had already done it 23 times since you got there- so you looked up. Reid was playing chess against himself. You watched as he studied the board carefully, then moved a pawn forward.

“You should have moved the knight instead,” you said. “You’d have check in three instead of check in five.”

“You play?” Reid asked. You nodded. Without another word, he reset the board and moved it so you could reach the pieces better. He moved first with a conservative single pawn forward. You smiled- this was going to be too easy.

---

“It’s… freaky,” Morgan muttered.

“It’s uncanny,” Rossi agreed.

“It’s something.” Emily smiled. 

“It’s time to get back to work,” Hotch said. But nobody moved, not even him.

For the last hour the team had sat around watching you and Reid play chess- you had won 7 times and he had won 5- and now poker. Currently, he had won three games and you had won two, but with the hand you had it was surely going to allow you to tie up the score. Reid set his hand down and you smiled, setting down yours as well.

“But-” Reid looked at the cards. “The probability of that hand is-”

“0.0001%,” you finished for him.

“How in the world-” JJ started.

Emily laughed. “(Y/N) has an IQ of 188. Just one point above Reid.”

“Oh, our poor good doctor,” Garcia cooed.

“Pretty boy finally met his match,” Derek joked.

“You think we can steal them away from Interpol?” Rossi asked.

This time you answered for yourself. You turned to the team and said, “Not a chance,” just before Reid began dealing out cards again.

[ynsvnte]

Enjoy while it lasts — Yang Jungwon

Genre: fluff, angst, est. relat. wc: 728 warnings: pet names (love, baby) crying, insecure reader, kissing, swearing, pairing: bf!jungwon x gn!reader

Event Masterlist

Jungwon arms wrapped around you. The both of you are watching TV in a comfortable position. Cuddling after a long day. You lifted your head to face him.

“Hey Jungwon..” you spoke up, gaining Jungwon's attention.

“Yes..?” He asked, curious about what you were going to say next.

“Can we not go tomorrow..?” You said with pleading eyes. “And why..?” Jungwon was confused earlier. You were so excited to go on a date with him, but now you’re not..

“Maybe because I checked the weather and it’s going to be freezing outside. And you know me, I get cold easily.” You replied trying to prove your point. “Baby…you know I can warm you up when you get cold..” Jungwon pulled you closer to him. Both of your noses touching each other. Making eye contact, Jungwon took the chance and smashed your lips together. A gasp left your mouth in shock. But you returned the kiss. The kiss felt so, so tender, soft, it made you feel like nobody else was in the world but you two. You both pull away, both of your faces red.

“So..now you wanna go?..” Jungwon asked, hoping to convince you. “No, you’re going to have to find another way to convince me..”

“How so..hmm.?” Jungwon knew it would take you sometime to get you to say yes. “Maybe if you..” you started saying “if I what..?”

“You know what, forget it..” you said trying to take back what you said. “No no let me hear what you are going to say my love..” he was desperate. You only shake your head not wanting to say anything.

“Pretty please, or else I won’t stop begging.” He said. You sigh but still choose to stay quiet. “Fine then we won’t go but don’t expect me to want to do anything with you.” Jungwon huffed and got up, making your warm embrace end, and left the living room.

Was he really upset…no. But he did know that it was one way to convince you. And besides you’re still going. Money already spent can't go to waste.

You get up and follow Jungwon towards your room. Upon entering the room, you see him lying down on the bed on his phone. He had a slight pout on his face making you chuckle. Jungwon heard you but didn’t say anything as he is keeping his promise.

“Are you mad at me..?” You asked him, walking towards him, trying to pull him in a hug. But Jungwon quickly pulled away, rejecting your hug.

“What’s wrong..?” No reply.

You sit on the bed trying to get to speak to you. After 10 minutes of silence. Jungwon sighs before speaking. “Tell you what..? How about you tell me about what you were going to say..that’s wrong…” he said looking straight into your eyes. Embarrassed, you look down. Jungwon was quick to lift your head up and raised an eyebrow, indicating you speak.

“Fine it’s just that…it’s not really about the weather rather…rather that I’m embarrassed about us…” your words took Jungwon by surprise. Never in a million years would he think you would say something like this. “What..what do you mean..” jungwon was now starting to get scared. “Jungwon, it’s not you, but me. How can you be with someone like me when there are plenty of people out there wanting to date you, but why me what’s so special about me..” tears were already flowing but you tried to hide your face. Jungwon caught on and pulled you into a hug.. “I’m sorry…” Why was he apologizing…? “Why are you sorry…” you asked..he had no direct answer. He just hugged you and was storming your back, comforting you.

“Baby, you are special to me. You’re the most precious person I know. And it makes me so happy knowing you’re mine. Fuck, don’t think of yourself like that baby…I love you too much..and don’t forgot we’ve been dating for 2 years..and I will always be here with you…” by now your tears stop and you felt much better than before..jungwon pulled you into kissed stroking you cheek. You both pulled away. And Jungwon spoke..

“So tomorrow we are going on that date okay?..”

“Okay..”

“Good, I don’t want my baby to feel sad. It also makes me sad knowing that.”

“Promise I won’t…”

Author’s note: I LIKE THIS DONE OKAYY!! It’s Christmas Eve for me but Yknow timezone differences… anyways merry Christmas to those who celebrate and also to those who don’t. Enjoy the rest day night..? Can’t believe this is my last fic for the year 2023 was something else.. and last one of this event YIPPE I DID IT

© ynsvnte copyright 2023

[thekatebridgerton]

For the reverse tropes ask: reverse fake dating for Philoise

Okay so I made it a Reverse fake dating S3 Philoise au

Anthony sighed looking over at his family as he reviewed the guests for their next dinner " Baron Honeywell, Lady Astley, Madame Olsen, oh and for tonight's dinner the man who Eloise paid off to pretend to court her, will also be showing up so I want you all to be perfectly polite"

" I've said it before he's actually courting me !" Eloise snapped

"Of course he is" Daphne patted her shoulder

" We're just wondering how much you paid him to promenade with you" Hyacinth added " Sir Phillip doesn't look like he's strapped for money "

"I didn't pay him off! He asked me to promenade, it was his idea to dance with me at the Cowper ball" Eloise huffed

" We believe you sister, he also brought you flowers voluntarily" Benedict hummed "And whatever blackmail you have over him will never leave this room "

" Fine, Eloise didn't pay him off, I make a correction " Anthony rolled his eyes, but before his sister could thank him for defending her he continued "the man Eloise blackmailed into faking a courtship" The rest of the family made various humms of understanding

Eloise eye twitched, looking dangerously like she was about to punch someone " is it really so hard to believe that we actually like each other?"

Her siblings looked at each other and shrugged "Yes"

" You have to admit El, Sir Phillip is so normal and you are so.... You" Colin said gesturing to all of her being

"Hey what's that supposed to mean?!!"

"We don't mean to offend sister, it's just that you do tend swear off marriage in front of every man you meet" Francesca tried to explain gently " And Sir Phillip has two young children, that's not exactly a spring bachelor"

" He also likes gardening, medicinal tea brewing and estate management" Kate piped up ticking off her fingers " And you... The last time you picked up a flower arrangement pamphlet you used it as a cover to attend a political rally "

" He's a good boxer, and a good marksman but dislikes practicing both" Simon pointed out, seemingly being the only one who had actually spent time with Sir Phillip "You on the other hand almost got yourself shot chasing leads of lady Whistledown"

" You're fresh off a scandal, he's fresh off a failed marriage, admit it Eloise, there's no way you're actually courting" Colin pointed out cynically

" But we are! And I see that we don't have a lot in common but I do like him, I like him a whole lot, and I like his children" Eloise protested " why won't you believe me? he's been trying really hard to win you all over because he also likes me"

"Of course he does and just in time to make people forget about the political rally business" Violet Bridgerton announced entering the drawing room giving Eloise a wink " Sir Phillip has been the picture of the perfectly devoted suitor, whatever threat you have him under, it's certainly working" she said giving Eloise a proud pat in her shoulder

Eloise sighed, how could she convince her family that her relationship with Sir Phillip was real without revealing that they've been bonding over the loss of their loved ones and a secret love of banned books, in fact most of the things Eloise talked with Sir Phillip would either land her in scandal sheets again or in jail. But he was an avid listener and answered all her questions, no matter how impertinent or illegal. She was teaching Sir Phillip the finer points of social interaction because he seemed to be worse off than her when it came to facing crowds, while he taught her about the things he'd learned in University, Eloise didn't think they were that badly suited and welcome his courtship openly.

The problem lay in the fact that nobody believed they were actually courting! By this rate Phillip would propose and everyone would still think it was a ruse. God help her

An: I had so much fun writing this one

[staticnight]

The Boy at the Gala - Bruce Wayne x Male!Reader

This took me ages to do. I've been absolutely swamped lately (plus a lot of unrelated procrastination). This kind of sucks, the pacing is off, and I'm overall not a huge fan of it, but I figured I would just get something out and work on something better rather than worry about it.

pairing: Bruce Wayne x Male Reader genre: fluff? meet cute I guess word count: 1.6K

   You’d never been to a gala before. You’d never even been to a really nice house party. In fact, you haven’t been to many parties at all. Certainly, you weren’t supposed to have been invited to Bruce Wayne’s gala, it must have been a mistake.

   But whatever, you got an invitation - and who were you to decline an opportunity to meet Bruce Wayne? You bought the nicest suit you could reasonably afford, and you headed out. 

   You took a breath, taking a moment to prepare before opening the large doors to Wayne Manor. The large entrance room was full of people mingling, in fancy gowns and suits, drinking expensive wines and spirits. You felt very out of place.

   As you walked through the room, nobody spared you a glance, too busy with whatever it was they were doing. You looked around the room, at the high ceilings and the marble pillars as you moved. How could anybody actually live here?

   You were so distracted by the fact that you were in Wayne Manor, that you failed to notice the large man you were about to walk right into. You stepped on the back of his heel, bringing you back to Earth. 

   “Oh, shit!” You stumble backwards, bumping into another person doing so. The man turns around, looking at you. “Are you alright?” He asks, concerned. You nod and look up at him - your jaw drops a little. Bruce Wayne. The man you bumped into was Bruce Fucking Wayne. 

   After looking at him flabbergasted for a moment, you compose yourself. “Yeah, I’m fine,” you say, nodding. He nods in return, his eyes drifting to your shoulder.

   “You got some wine on your suit,” he points out, to which your eyes widen. “Fuck,” you mutter, looking at the slight red stain on your shoulder. Your suit is black, so the stain isn’t obvious, but you spent way too much money on this suit to get a wine stain on it.

   Bruce takes a small cloth out of his chest pocket. He raises his hand in the air, calling over a waitstaff. After a moment, the waitstaff arrives, carrying a tray with various shot glasses and a jug of water.

   Bruce presses the cloth on the rim of the jug and turns it upside-down for a brief moment. He then brings it to your shoulder, wiping off the wine. The damp cloth is cold, even through the suit jacket. Even worse than that, Bruce had gotten rather close to you to do this, and you can feel his breath on your neck. Trying your best to ignore it, you bite on the inside of your lip. After what felt like forever, Bruce’s eyes met yours, only for a moment, before he pulled away.

   “I got most of it off,” he says kindly, folding up the cloth and throwing it onto the table behind him. “Your shoulder is damp now though,” he frowns.

   “It’s fine…” you touch your shoulder lightly; it’s a lot wetter than you thought it was. Bruce seems to think for a moment. “Maybe you should take your jacket off for now?” He suggests, his eyes meeting yours again. You think his face is a bit pink, but it’s hard to tell in the dim light. Perhaps you’re projecting, because God knows your own cheeks are starting to burn.

   You remove your jacket, holding it awkwardly. You can’t just tie a suit around your waist, right? There’s a strange silence between you for a few moments before Bruce’s expression quickly shifts. 

   “I forgot to ask your name,” he says, a hint of embarrassment in his voice and face. “Oh, uh,” you hesitate. Does he know the names of his guest list? You aren’t rich, or famous, or related to anybody rich or famous. “My name’s [Name]. I got an invitation,” you respond, adding the last sentence quickly. Which you realised just as quickly was a weird thing to say.

   Bruce gives you a strange look, but only for a second. “Bruce Wayne,” he holds out his hand. He surely knew that you knew he was Bruce Wayne, but you shake his hand and say “Nice to meet you, Mr Wayne,” nonetheless. 

   “Ah, just Bruce is fine,” he smiles. He spends a brief moment just looking at you, but then realises that he’s still holding your hand, not even shaking it. Bruce pulls his hand back. “I’m sorry about that,” he apologises. “Just… zoned out,” he adds.

   You move your jacket into your other, newly freed, hand. “I can have that washed if you’d like?” Bruce asks, looking at the jacket, then back at you. “It’s no problem,” he assures. 

   You nod, “If you’re sure it’s no problem.” He smiles and nods back at you. Bruce puts one hand under the jacket, and the other gently atop your own hand. You look down at your hands, and his hands, feeling your face getting hot. 

   His fingers graze softly over your hands as he pulls his away, turning and giving the jacket to an old man beside him. He says something to him, and you’re only able to make out the words “washed,” and “tomorrow”, but that essentially tells you everything he said anyway. The man gives Bruce a look, before leaving with your jacket.

   “Do you do this for everyone you meet at galas?” You ask jokingly. He shrugs, “Not everyone I meet at galas gets wine on their suit.” You let out a breathy laugh, to which Bruce smiles. 

   “Would you like a drink?” He asks as a waiter with a tray of champagne walks nearby. “Yeah, I’ll have a drink.” Bruce nods and takes two glasses from the tray as he passes by. He hands you a glass. You take it, making sure your hands touch as you do so.

   You clink your glasses together and take a sip.

   “So, [Name],” Bruce starts, “What do you do?” You tilt your head ever so slightly at him. “What do you mean?” You ask, confused.

   “I can’t say I know everybody that attends these galas, but they all do something in particular. Usually businessmen and their trophy wives,” he takes another sip of champagne. “Forgive me if I’m wrong, but you don’t like you’re the businessman type,” Bruce explains.

   “Do I look like a trophy wife?” You joke, trying to avoid the question that will for sure get you kicked out. Bruce laughs, “I think you could be,” he jokes back. “At least a trophy boyfriend.”

   “Speaking of trophy wives, surely Bruce Wayne has a lovely girl that’s here somewhere?” You ask, half trying to avoid the previous question and half asking if he’s single.

   Bruce looks a bit embarrassed, “No, I don’t.” You refrain from making a face about it, but you can’t deny your surprise. “Yeah, love’s hard,” you shrug as casually as you possibly can.

   The old man comes back, notably without your jacket in hand. “The suit jacket will be washed and ready tomorrow. Would you rather pick it up yourself or have it delivered?” He asks. “Ah, I’ll pick it up if that’s not a problem?”

   The man nods. You really just want another opportunity to be in Wayne Manor, especially if it means talking to its owner again. 

   “Maybe I can get your phone number?” Bruce asks, “To let you know when to pick it up,” he adds quickly, his cheeks pink. You smile, “Yeah, of course, uh,” you check your pockets for something to write on.”

   “Oh, you can just put it on my phone,” Bruce says, fishing his phone out of his pocket. He taps a few things on it before handing it to you, open on the new contact page.

   You add your number and name (with a <3 next to it for good measure). You hand his phone back to him.

He looks at the screen, a small smile on his face at the heart next to your name. He taps a few more things, and your own phone buzzes in your pocket. 

   You dig it out, checking the notification. A text from an unrecognised number; ‘Hey [Name]’, complete with a heart next to your name the same way you put it in. 

   You smile, and look back up at Bruce, who lets out a small hum. 

   “Y’know, I’d heard you were the cute playboy type, but you're much cuter in person.” You say, vocalising what was in your head. You’d already scored his phone number, so you figured ‘may as well'. Bruce laughs, though his face is undoubtedly pink.

   Turning your attention back to your phone, you add the number to your contacts under the name Bruce, of course with another heart. You have a theme going.

   You struggle to hide your excitement at the fact that Bruce Wayne is in your phone contacts.

   Before you know it, people start to filter out of the building. Neither you nor Bruce had noticed the time passing by, far too enthralled in your own conversation.

   Bruce checks his watch - surely the most expensive watch you've ever seen - “I can't believe it's that late already.”

   You check your own watch - surely a far cheaper watch. Your friend might have even given it to you second-hand - 12:27 am.

   “I should probably get going soon, then, huh.” You frown a little. Spending all night talking to Bruce might be one of the best things to ever happen to you. 

   “Or, you could stay the night?” He suggests. “Since your jacket is here and everything,” he reasons, seemingly to himself more than you. 

   Now your face is most certainly at least a little red. “Well, if you want me to.” Bruce nods, “There's more than enough beds - or room in mine,” he adds the last part quietly.

   The last of the guests are seemingly gone now. 

   Bruce holds out his hand to you. You take it.

   “Lead the way, Bruce.”

[reds-ramblings]

Moonvale

Because nobody asked for my opinion... I'm going to give it anyway.

Thought, pros and cons of the new game. It's not super spoilery but I'm going to hide it just in case.

First, I would like to say I was NOT at all expecting the new story to be a continuation of Duskwood or to even be a similar story to Duskwood. Everbyte made it very clear this is not what Moonvale was meant to be. I went into this with a completely open mind and tried my best not to compare Moonvale to Duskwood. I was still disappointed. There were several changes Everbyte made that were great but they were overshadowed by the negative changes.

Pros:

1. There is now an LGBTQ option when you enter your name and Duskwood code. This doesn't apply to me so I'm not sure what it changes in the game but this option was needed.

2. You can use diamonds to skip mini-games. I would have spent money just to do this if everything else didn't cost so much.

3. This is just my opinion but the mini-games seemed to be a bit easier.

4. The Duskwood side story. It's not much now but I would play the game just for that. Was it worth spending money to finish sooner? No.

Cons:

1. Money money money. There's no premium package that unlocks everything. I get that Everbyte has to make money off of the game but the content wasn't worth what they were charging!

2. I found the characters really unlikable. Eric was alright, but the rest I couldn't care less for. I started out liking charlie but he quickly became annoying. I really wanted to like Ash but something about her just rubbed me the wrong way. Where was the character development here?!

3. The story line! The Billy Blake story was long and pointless. Maybe it will be important later on but it definitely could have been shorter. It took like 3 mini-game sessions just to get through it! When he said "should I continue" I literally yelled no!

4. The story line! It was unoriginal. Some parts felt very copy, paste, change a few lines and here's a new story.

5. The mini-games. I didn't like how it forced you to play them at set times. One of the things I liked about Duskwood is that you could play all the mini-games in each set and then not have to stop the story so much.

6. AI! I get that they don't have actors for all of the characters but why not use stock images like before? Why do they have to use AI?!?!

7. You can't rewatch ANY of the videos or phone calls. They literally disappear. Yet somehow they are "saved" so you can send them to other characters.

8. We waited 2 years for that?! It had the potential to be amazing and even better than Duskwood. We know Everbyte can make an amazing game Duskwood is proof of that. This did not live up to those standards

I'm sure there's more but this is all I can think of at the moment.

[leclerced]

something about you wanting Max to be your first time absolutely ruins him. the fact that you trust him enough to be this vulnerable with him?? the fact that you want him to take your innocence? it’s all so hot to him. the fact that nobody else has been able to have your body in this way? he swears that the hottest thing for him is how shy you seem in the pretty set of lingerie that you bought exactly for this situation. he wants to rip it off you, even if the white lace looks so fucking good on you

he knows that you spent money on the set but he would much rather see and touch what’s lying underneath

-

🩰

too add on to what i said earlier!! max is going to spend so much time just with gentle foreplay, because he wants this to be special for you. he wants your first time to be special, and he wants to make it something you’ll never regret doing. he wants this to be all about you, and he’s going to praise you so much during the entire thing. he’s going to take it slow as well, checking that you are comfortable, having you ask when you want to initiate the actual sex, things like that just prove that he wants this entire night to be all about you! -🩰

copied ur second asks here so i can answer them together 🫶🏻 read more for length.

ok this has been sitting in drafts bc i started an oscar virginity series but i have an idea where reader and max almost hook up after meeting at a club but then she tells him he's a virgin and he's like, "sorry but i am not gonna take your virginity like this, you'll probably regret it. you should do it with someone you know and trust."

he asks why she tried doing it in a one night stand and she tells him she just wanted to get it over with and that seemed easy. she hadn't even planned on telling him, or whoever, because she wouldn't see them again. he asks why she picked him and she tells him he was the first guy who approached that didn't gross her out, and he's like, "way to make a guy feel special." but she meant it in a good way. any other guy, she pictured having sex with and immediately was icked. she saw max, and she wanted to have him in her mouth. when she explains that, he certainly feels special.

queue reader and max hanging out and getting to know each other bc she is adamant that she wants to sleep with him, so if he thinks it should be with someone she knows and trusts, it just makes sense that they do just that. they wouldn't get to see each other often bc of his racing schedule, and she'd tease him that she's going to find a local guy to take her virginity because he's taking too long. he'd be internally panicking because like, he's made plans but he'd laugh at those messages and reply, "yeah, let me know how that goes." or, "you would have done that already if you really wanted to." and she gets all pouty bc she wanted him to tell her to wait for him, that he'll fuck her better than any other guy she'd pick up.

each time he has a few days off to go home, they do something new. max gets her comfortable with kissing him, grinding and taking each other's clothes off before he fingers her or goes down on her. once she's comfortable being touched and initiating it, max teaches her how to jerk him off and suck him off. he'd always ask her how far she wants to go, what she wants to do, etc. at first, she was expecting him to take the lead and decide what they would do, but he's always asking her what she wants, and later she’s crawling into his lap and asking him to finger her or go down on her. sometimes she'll say sex, and he's like, "you made me go back down to two fingers when i put a third in last night, so lets not. how about my mouth?"

when that happens, she usually thanks him a few hours later, "hey, uh, i'm glad we didn't rush it today. thanks for not letting me convince you in the moment, i guess." at first she’s a bit awkward about it like, “sorry i like jumped you earlier idk why i did that.” and he tells her he likes it when she tells him that she wants him, he wants her to be comfortable enough to do that.

after a few months, she asks if they can talk and she tells him she's ready. not right then, but she wants to do it the next time he's in town. they make plans for it and she knows without him saying it (even though he does, a dozen times) that at any moment, she can stop. while he's gone, she goes out and gets a new set, gets waxed if that's her thing, gets her nails and hair done. she wants to feel her absolute best, and if everything looks and feels perfect to her, she will feel exactly that.

there's not an ounce of nervousness in her when she sees max again, no second thoughts about what they're going to do. things move slower than usual, neither of them are in any rush and he waits for her to move onto the next thing each time. she’s kind of frustrated bc he knows what they’re about to do but he’s not making any effort to get undressed until she’s tugging on his shirt with one hand while the other is underneath and exploring bare skin. she has to take her own shirt off, and when he sees the white lace he kind of freezes up bc wow.

he spends so much time worshipping her body, refusing to take the lingerie off until she’s begging him to. he kisses her lips raw then covers her in love bites, praising her all the while. telling her how pretty she looks, how much he loves the set. she really loves his fingers and mouth, but after the third orgasm she’s starting to think he’s forgotten the objective. he doesn’t stop until she’s huffing at him for taking so long, and tells him that she needs to feel him in her. honestly though, he’s just nervous about it. he wants it to be perfect and now that he’s in the moment he wishes he had gone all out with rose petals and candles and bubble bath for afterwards. he’s so careful and asks if she’s sure a half dozen more times as he opens the condom, puts it on, arranges pillows under her hips, lines up.

he can’t let himself think about how good she feels around him, choking back moans so he can grit out the words, “are you okay? how do you feel?” like he can’t feel her throbbing around him, practically choking his cock. his head gets fuzzy because he feels so good, it’s been so long since he’s had sex. she’s jerked him off and blown him, but he hasn’t been with anyone else since they met and he agreed to take her virginity. and then there’s her, fluttering her eyes up at him as she gasps and tells him how good it feels, how full she is, and he’s not even halfway in. he’s probably doing breathing exercises to calm down his racing heart, holding onto the pillow under her hips with a death grip because he doesn’t want to bruise her hips with it.