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miyasturniolo · 2 days

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MINECRAFT | matt sturniolo

pairing: bf!matt x f!reader

summary: where you and matt used to play minecraft together, but both of you finally logged back in and explored your old minecraft world together.

warning: fluff, flirting, use of y/n, swearing, pet names (baby, sweetheart, love, darling), mention of covid.

a/n: not my photos, on pinterest. I screamed when I saw they brought back live streams!!! my first fluff on this account.

WORDS: 1.4k

miyasturniolo on wattpad

you - pink | matt - blue

During the lockdown, you and your boyfriend used to have a shared love for Minecraft, playing it together every day. However, now you both have stopped playing the game and rarely bring it up in conversation.

While you were at home, your boyfriend called you because he missed you, but you couldn't visit him due to being busy with various things. You made an effort to find some time for him.

"I don't feel like playing Fortnite. I had to play it yesterday during the livestream," he grumbled. You simply hummed in response, both of you mostly searching for a new game to play together.

"You looked handsome in that livestream, but I couldn't watch it because of my schedule. I've only seen clips on TikTok," you mentioned, making him blush and chuckle. You could tell because you were both on FaceTime.

He was a bit speechless, trying to downplay the effect of your compliment by changing the subject.

"How about overwatch?" he suggested, but you just stared at him through your phone, causing him to playfully roll his eyes. "Okay, no overwatch then," he quickly added.

You were scrolling through when you came across a game that made you smile. "Wanna try Minecraft again?" you asked.

He paused for a moment, pushing his hair out of his eyes as he hadn't had a haircut in a few weeks, and he was biting his bottom lip while thinking. "Yeah, okay," he answered.

You opened Minecraft, which was already updated because your device always stays up to date with app updates.

"Think our maps are still loaded in?" he asked, and you just shrugged. He smiled and looked at you as he loaded into Minecraft.

"Are you wearing my hoodie? I've been looking for my blue hoodie," he said, noticing you wearing the one with white stars on the sleeve. "Maybe," you replied.

He rolled his eyes, then finally got online, and so did you. He gasped softly, clapped his hands together once.

"I still have most of the worlds saved," he smirked, his pink lips soft from using his brother's lip balm called spacecamp.

You chuckled softly, reminiscing about some details of the world, even though it's been over two years

"Shall we join one?" you asked, guessing that he probably wanted to. He smiled and agreed. "Just join me," Matt said to you while looking at you through the phone once again.

You joined him and loaded in, luckily, you were close to each other, so you didn't have to spend half the time trying to find each other and both of your buildings.

"Isn't this are house and not the villagers we spawned to make are city more lively” he asked, which confused you as you followed him. He had slightly better wifi, so he loaded into the game first and it was his world.

"Hold on," you mumbled and chased after him, your eyes fixed on the pavement leading to the building you both recognized.

"You do remember when we spent all day trying to build a city, right?" He whispered without thinking, and you let out a small laughter, making him smile as he glanced at his phone in adoration, since you were still on the call. "Of course I do,"

You were walking along the pavement with Matt, but he suddenly stopped, a smile lighting up his face, cheeks slightly flushed.

"I found it!" he exclaimed, his voice a bit higher than usual. You responded with a drawn-out "oh yeaaa?" before turning to see what he had discovered.

You catch up to him since you were still a bit behind but you mostly explored the virtual world, you couldn't help but marvel at the random creations that filled the landscape.

Matt could hear you mutter a curse under your breath over the call. "Do you really need to swear, miss y/n?" he teased, to which you just rolled your eyes in response, a playful glint in them.

“alright, I shouldn’t say anything- sorry sweetheart.” He his hands up in surrender which made you laugh

You decided to jump off a mountain, making sure to land safely to avoid fall damage. Matt followed suit, being a bit more cautious.

"Be careful not to die, okay darling?" he said, but you only nodded, already on the brink of death in the game. You didn't mind, knowing that you wouldn't actually perish.

You ate the apple from your inventory, replenishing your health as your hunger decreased. This prompted you to eat something to raise your heart levels.

Matt spam crouched next to you and gestured like Minecraft YouTubers do in their videos. "Where do you want to explore first?" You asked, but he just chuckled and replied, "I want to explore you in real life." You widened your eyes in surprise, and he laughed.

You entered a building that you both constructed, a simple yet modern structure more fitting for 2020 than the present. "omg, a baby villager!" you exclaimed as it approached you for a second and then running to the basic red bed.

"Where are its parents?" Matt asked, scanning the area before swiftly dispatching the villager with his sword. "MATT!" you gasped, to which he simply laughed.

"Rot in hell!" you playfully scolded him before continuing to explore the house, which one or both of you had built.

After exploring for a while, Matt signaled for you to join him which you did. “Have a tulip, I stole it from a pot in that house behind you” he offered.

You watched as he handed you a tulip, and a soft laugh escaped your lips as you thanked him, a smile spreading across your face that he could see thanks to your video call.

"You're so beautiful when you smile, baby," he said, causing your smile to widen even more. You were at a loss for words, but he enjoyed rendering you speechless.

After exploring the city together for a while, Matt excused himself to wander around. However, he couldn't help but let out a small exclamation.

"y/n, darling," he called out, prompting you to hum in response, curious about what he had to say. He simply asked you to come over, and you obliged, spotting his name tag.

Approaching him, you noticed a heart and more, triggering memories to flood back. "Wasn't this from our 'date' we had planned? I remember making this for you while you were asleep because I had promised to take you on a small aquarium date, but then lockdown happened," he reminisced.

“Yeah, it was” you say softly, both of you reminiscing about those special moments.

You both looked around for a while. He took his time building this since in Boston there is an aquarium nearby, so he wanted to make sure everything was just right and matched perfectly except for details he added.

"Baby," he whined, causing you to stop walking in the Minecraft world and look at his character. "What?" you replied, matching his playful energy and eliciting a small giggle from him.

While still on a call, you checked your phone, only to find him already gazing at you. He stared at you momentarily, forgetting what he wanted to whine about before remembering at the last minute.

"I want to still take you on an aquarium date. Could you possibly take a day off so we can spend the whole day together? I don't mind going back to Boston for a week... I need to see my parents too, but most of all, I just want to see you," he said with a slight frown.

"I'll see what I can do, okay?" you responded softly. He smiled and nodded before meeting your eyes while still on the call.

"Fine.. you better add a few more days if possible," he quickly suggests, making you groan slightly and laugh.

“I’ll try Matt. I can't push too far, alright?" you say, but he just scoffs and playfully flips you off. "Fine," he mumbles.

"I love you," you declare, but he just squints his eyes at you before smiling. "I love you more," he replies.

“oh and remember, I’ll one day still take you to the aquarium.. like I promised four years ago!”

MIYAS MASTERLIST & INFO

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mostlysignssomeportents · 3 days

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UK publishers suing Google for $17.4b over rigged ad markets

THIS WEEKEND (June 7–9), I'm in AMHERST, NEW YORK to keynote the 25th Annual Media Ecology Association Convention and accept the Neil Postman Award for Career Achievement in Public Intellectual Activity.

Look, no one wants to kick Big Tech to the curb more than I do, but, also: it's good that Google indexes the news so people can find it, and it's good that Facebook provides forums where people can talk about the news.

It's not news if you can't find it. It's not news if you can't talk about it. We don't call information you can't find or discuss "news" – we call it "secrets."

And yet, the most popular – and widely deployed – anti-Big Tech tactic promulgated by the news industry and supported by many of my fellow trustbusters is premised on making Big Tech pay to index the news and/or provide a forum to discuss news articles. These "news bargaining codes" (or, less charitably, "link taxes") have been mooted or introduced in the EU, France, Spain, Australia, and Canada. There are proposals to introduce these in the US (through the JCPA) and in California (the CJPA).

These US bills are probably dead on arrival, for reasons that can be easily understood by the Canadian experience with them. After Canada introduced Bill C-18 – its own news bargaining code – Meta did exactly what it had done in many other places where this had been tried: blocked all news from Facebook, Instagram, Threads, and other Meta properties.

This has been a disaster for the news industry and a disaster for Canadians' ability to discuss the news. Oh, it makes Meta look like assholes, too, but Meta is the poster child for "too big to care" and is palpably indifferent to the PR costs of this boycott.

Frustrated lawmakers are now trying to figure out what to do next. The most common proposal is to order Meta to carry the news. Canadians should be worried about this, because the next government will almost certainly be helmed by the far-right conspiratorialist culture warrior Pierre Poilievre, who will doubtless use this power to order Facebook to platform "news sites" to give prominence to Canada's rotten bushel of crypto-fascist (and openly fascist) "news" sites.

Americans should worry about this too. A Donald Trump 2028 presidency combined with a must-carry rule for news would see Trump's cabinet appointees deciding what is (and is not) news, and ordering large social media platforms to cram the Daily Caller (or, you know, the Daily Stormer) into our eyeballs.

But there's another, more fundamental reason that must-carry is incompatible with the American system: the First Amendment. The government simply can't issue a blanket legal order to platforms requiring them to carry certain speech. They can strongly encourage it. A court can order limited compelled speech (say, a retraction following a finding of libel). Under emergency conditions, the government might be able to compel the transmission of urgent messages. But there's just no way the First Amendment can be squared with a blanket, ongoing order issued by the government to communications platforms requiring them to reproduce, and make available, everything published by some collection of their favorite news outlets.

This might also be illegal in Canada, but it's harder to be definitive. The Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedoms was enshrined in 1982, and Canada's Supreme Court is still figuring out what it means. Section Two of the Charter enshrines a free expression right, but it's worded in less absolute terms than the First Amendment, and that's deliberate. During the debate over the wording of the Charter, Canadian scholars and policymakers specifically invoked problems with First Amendment absolutism and tried to chart a middle course between strong protections for free expression and problems with the First Amendment's brook-no-exceptions language.

So maybe Canada's Supreme Court would find a must-carry order to Meta to be a violation of the Charter, but it's hard to say for sure. The Charter is both young and ambiguous, so it's harder to be definitive about what it would say about this hypothetical. But when it comes to the US and the First Amendment, that's categorically untrue. The US Constitution is centuries older than the Canadian Charter, and the First Amendment is extremely definitive, and there are reams of precedent interpreting it. The JPCA and CJPA are totally incompatible with the US Constitution. Passing them isn't as silly as passing a law declaring that Pi equals three or that water isn't wet, but it's in the neighborhood.

But all that isn't to say that the news industry shouldn't be attacking Big Tech. Far from it. Big Tech compulsively steals from the news!

But what Big Tech steals from the news isn't content.

It's money.

Big Tech steals money from the news. Take social media: when a news outlet invests in building a subscriber base on a social media platform, they're giving that platform a stick to beat them with. The more subscribers you have on social media, the more you'll be willing to pay to reach those subscribers, and the more incentive there is for the platform to suppress the reach of your articles unless you pay to "boost" your content.

This is plainly fraudulent. When I sign up to follow a news outlet on a social media site, I'm telling the platform to show me the things the news outlet publishes. When the platform uses that subscription as the basis for a blackmail plot, holding my desire to read the news to ransom, they are breaking their implied promise to me to show me the things I asked to see:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2023/06/save-news-we-need-end-end-web

This is stealing money from the news. It's the definition of an "unfair method of competition." Article 5 of the Federal Trade Commission Act gives the FTC the power to step in and ban this practice, and they should:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/01/10/the-courage-to-govern/#whos-in-charge

Big Tech also steals money from the news via the App Tax: the 30% rake that the mobile OS duopoly (Apple/Google) requires for every in-app purchase (Apple/Google also have policies that punish app vendors who take you to the web to make payments without paying the App Tax). 30% out of every subscriber dollar sent via an app is highway robbery! By contrast, the hyperconcentrated, price-gouging payment processing cartel charges 2-5% – about a tenth of the Big Tech tax. This is Big Tech stealing money from the news:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2023/06/save-news-we-must-open-app-stores

Finally, Big Tech steals money by monopolizing the ad market. The Google-Meta ad duopoly takes 51% out of every ad-dollar spent. The historic share going to advertising "intermediaries" is 10-15%. In other words, Google/Meta cornered the market on ads and then tripled the bite they were taking out of publishers' advertising revenue. They even have an illegal, collusive arrangement to rig this market, codenamed "Jedi Blue":

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jedi_Blue

There's two ways to unrig the ad market, and we should do both of them.

First, we should trustbust both Google and Meta and force them to sell off parts of their advertising businesses. Currently, both Google and Meta operate a "full stack" of ad services. They have an arm that represents advertisers buying space for ads. Another arm represents publishers selling space to advertisers. A third arm operates the marketplace where these sales take place. All three arms collect fees. On top of that: Google/Meta are both publishers and advertisers, competing with their own customers!

This is as if you were in court for a divorce and you discovered that the same lawyer representing your soon-to-be ex was also representing you…while serving as the judge…and trying to match with you both on Tinder. It shouldn't surprise you if at the end of that divorce, the court ruled that the family home should go to the lawyer.

So yeah, we should break up ad-tech:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2023/05/save-news-we-must-shatter-ad-tech

Also: we should ban surveillance advertising. Surveillance advertising gives ad-tech companies a permanent advantage over publishers. Ad-tech will always know more about readers' behavior than publishers do, because Big Tech engages in continuous, highly invasive surveillance of every internet user in the world. Surveillance ads perform a little better than "content-based ads" (ads sold based on the content of a web-page, not the behavior of the person looking at the page), but publishers will always know more about their content than ad-tech does. That means that even if content-based ads command a slightly lower price than surveillance ads, a much larger share of that payment will go to publishers:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2023/05/save-news-we-must-ban-surveillance-advertising

Banning surveillance advertising isn't just good business, it's good politics. The potential coalition for banning surveillance ads is everyone who is harmed by commercial surveillance. That's a coalition that's orders of magnitude larger than the pool of people who merely care about fairness in the ad/news industries. It's everyone who's worried about their grandparents being brainwashed on Facebook, or their teens becoming anorexic because of Instagram. It includes people angry about deepfake porn, and people angry about Black Lives Matter protesters' identities being handed to the cops by Google (see also: Jan 6 insurrectionists).

It also includes everyone who discovers that they're paying higher prices because a vendor is using surveillance data to determine how much they'll pay – like when McDonald's raises the price of your "meal deal" on your payday, based on the assumption that you will spend more when your bank account is at its highest monthly level:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/06/05/your-price-named/#privacy-first-again

Attacking Big Tech for stealing money is much smarter than pretending that the problem is Big Tech stealing content. We want Big Tech to make the news easy to find and discuss. We just want them to stop pocketing 30 cents out of every subscriber dollar and 51 cents out of ever ad dollar, and ransoming subscribers' social media subscriptions to extort publishers.

And there's amazing news on this front: a consortium of UK web-publishers called Ad Tech Collective Action has just triumphed in a high-stakes proceeding, and can now go ahead with a suit against Google, seeking damages of GBP13.6b ($17.4b) for the rigged ad-tech market:

https://www.reuters.com/technology/17-bln-uk-adtech-lawsuit-against-google-can-go-ahead-tribunal-rules-2024-06-05/

The ruling, from the Competition Appeal Tribunal, paves the way for a frontal assault on the thing Big Tech actually steals from publishers: money, not content.

This is exactly what publishing should be doing. Targeting the method by which tech steals from the news is a benefit to all kinds of news organizations, including the independent, journalist-owned publishers that are doing the best news work today. These independents do not have the same interests as corporate news, which is dominated by hedge funds and private equity raiders, who have spent decades buying up and hollowing out news outlets, and blaming the resulting decline in readership and profits on Craiglist.

You can read more about Big Finance's raid on the news in Margot Susca's Hedged: How Private Investment Funds Helped Destroy American Newspapers and Undermine Democracy:

https://www.press.uillinois.edu/books/?id=p087561

You can also watch/listen to Adam Conover's excellent interview with Susca:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N21YfWy0-bA

Frankly, the looters and billionaires who bought and gutted our great papers are no more interested in the health of the news industry or democracy than Big Tech is. We should care about the news and the workers who produce the news, not the profits of the hedge-funds that own the news. An assault on Big Tech's monetary theft levels the playing field, making it easier for news workers and indies to compete directly with financialized news outlets and billionaire playthings, by letting indies keep more of every ad-dollar and more of every subscriber-dollar – and to reach their subscribers without paying ransom to social media.

Ending monetary theft – rather than licensing news search and discussion – is something that workers are far more interested in than their bosses. Any time you see workers and their bosses on the same side as a fight against Big Tech, you should look more closely. Bosses are not on their workers' side. If bosses get more money out of Big Tech, they will not share those gains with workers unless someone forces them to.

That's where antitrust comes in. Antitrust is designed to strike at power, and enforcers have broad authority to blunt the power of corporate juggernauts. Remember Article 5 of the FTC Act, the one that lets the FTC block "unfair methods of competition?" FTC Chair Lina Khan has proposed using it to regulate training AI, specifically to craft rules that address the labor and privacy issues with AI:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3mh8Z5pcJpg

This is an approach that can put creative workers where they belong, in a coalition with other workers, rather than with their bosses. The copyright approach to curbing AI training is beloved of the same media companies that are eagerly screwing their workers. If we manage to make copyright – a transferrable right that a worker can be forced to turn over their employer – into the system that regulates AI training, it won't stop training. It'll just trigger every entertainment company changing their boilerplate contract so that creative workers have to sign over their AI rights or be shown the door:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/05/13/spooky-action-at-a-close-up/#invisible-hand

Then those same entertainment and news companies will train AI models and try to fire most of their workers and slash the pay of the remainder using those models' output. Using copyright to regulate AI training makes changes to who gets to benefit from workers' misery, shifting some of our stolen wages from AI companies to entertainment companies. But it won't stop them from ruining our lives.

By contrast, focusing on actual labor rights – say, through an FTCA 5 rulemaking – has the potential to protect those rights from all parties, and puts us on the same side as call-center workers, train drivers, radiologists and anyone else whose wages are being targeted by AI companies and their customers.

Policy fights are a recurring monkey's paw nightmare in which we try to do something to fight corruption and bullying, only to be outmaneuvered by corrupt bullies. Making good policy is no guarantee of a good outcome, but it sure helps – and good policy starts with targeting the thing you want to fix. If we're worried that news is being financially starved by Big Tech, then we should go after the money, not the links.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/06/06/stealing-money-not-content/#content-free

#pluralistic #competition #advertising #surveillance advertising #saving the news from big tech #link taxes #trustbusting #competition and markets authority #uk #ukpoli #Ad Tech Collective Action #digital markets unit #Competition Appeal Tribunal

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monstersflashlight · 3 days

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Fem sub werewolf reader?

Hi anon! I hope you like this, I was gonna do a short txt but ended up writing a short story, oopsie daisies.

Too big to handle

Werewolf reader x fem!human || rough sex, orgasm denial, size kink, knotting, breeding (all lowkey bc this is not too long)

Pretty human girl who is always trying to take your dick. When you started dating, she was so confident she could take all of you, but soon after she saw it. You would forever remember her astonished face when she realized how big you really were, how she probably wouldn't be able to handle you. But did she try...

She tried and tried and gagged and cried, but she got to fit a third of your cock inside her mouth, drooling like crazy around you, her face teary. You thought she looked beautiful on her knees trying so hard to take you. She looked so filthy... You took a pic right there, to remember her like that forever. She always blushed so prettily when you showed her, every single time. That pic was a special memory of your dating history, an addition to the ones she sent you while you were on pack business. She loved to tease you like the brat she was, so you could get home and spank her pretty pussy until she was begging you to stop and let her come. You didn't. She teased you and didn't deserve to come. But you would then hug her and cuddle her, and in the morning you'd reward her eating her out.

And then, after a couple months dating, she told you she wanted to try taking you completely. You laughed at her, convinced she couldn't, but she made a good point. She would stretch, prepare, you two could make a game of it. And that sounded damn good. So you spent a whole weekend preparing her, making her walk around with bigger plugs every few hours, to the point she couldn't sit on a chair anymore, and she was just across your lap, her pussy stretched and puffy when you took out the plug and finger fucked her slowly. She squirmed and groaned, but she knew she couldn't come. And she was a good little human, so you gave her what she wanted.

The first time she could only take half of you, crying and trying to push down on you as you laughed and held her still so she wouldn't hurt herself. She wanted more, but you knew it wasn't the right time yet. You came in her for the first time and after that you made her open her legs and show you how pretty her pink pussy looked with your cum leaking out. You took another pic of her just like that, her hole gaping and abused. You loved that pic.

Eventually, she got all your dick inside, cheering as she did. You laughed, but then pounded into her human body so hard she screamed your name so many times you couldn't count. You came inside her again.

And then it was time for her to take your knot. She didn't ask for it, but you wanted to fill her completely, to breed her until she forgot her own name. She squirmed and struggled and whined... And you didn't care. You kept fucking her, adding one, two, three fingers to her already stretched hole, preparing her for your knot. When she took it, you were the one cheering, her pussy so tight around you that you couldn't stop coming for what felt like hours, howling like the wolf you were, compeltely feral. She passed out because of the pleasure, and you kept coming inside of her, until her lower abdomen had a tiny bump and your knot went down. That was your favorite pic of her, all sweaty and fucked out, asleep on her back, mouth open and drooling on the mattress, legs open and pussy filled, dripping, destroyed... You made that into your lock-screen.

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turing-tested · 1 day

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q. what is stairsweek?

a. it's a week dedicated to stairs! for 7 full days, 24 hours a day, my blog will be posting a picture of stairs every 15 minutes.

q. how do I participate?

a. the hashtag for this year's festivities is #s7airsweek! starting on sunday you can post pictures of stairs and tag them with #s7airsweek and I will reblog them, adding them to the queue, and enshrining them forever in the stairsweek collection for future years!

you are also free to reblog, share, and interact with the photos, and are in fact invited/encouraged to

q. i don't like stairs ):

a. then block the tag and control your own online experience :)

q. why?

a. I think it's important to remind myself and everyone else that I run my tumblr to collect and post about things I want to. im not on tumblr for clout or success. if i was, I would not post 600+ photos of stairs over the course of a week. i feel like there are are probably much better, more convenient, and efficient ways to get followers on websites that make significantly more money.

q. how many stairsweeks have you had?

a. karkat stairsweek would be entering first grade today :)

q. when is stairsweek?

the 9-15th of June !!!!

q. will you lose followers for this? a. lets find out! follower count at start of week:

#s7airsweek

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swordsandholly · 3 days

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Across the Way

Chapter 4: New and Old Problems Alike

Retired!Ghoap x Fem!Fat!Reader

Ao3 | Previous - Next | Masterlist

MDNI | cw: fainting, some medical inaccuracies

Word Count: 5.8k

Summary: You go to Scotland with high hopes for your future. After all, you have the bakery you always dreamed of and a whole new life to live. Plus, the men who own the butcher’s shop across the street seem nice.

You haven’t texted them, even three days later. That little sticky note haunts the surface of your kitchen counter. It taunts you - tells you that you should text them and at least give them your number. That you’re being a terrible neighbor. They might need you too, after all. Even though you can’t figure out why they might for the life of you. On the other hand, you can’t help but feel wary about it. Men don’t take an interest in you - people in general rarely take interest. It’s hard not to feel suspicious, as pure as you’re sure their intentions probably are.

More so than any of that, you don’t know what to say. If it had been day one you could have just put your name, but now you feel like you need to explain. Or at least be funny or something. Tossing and turning on your designated rest day about what the hell you should do.

You’re overthinking it. You know that. You can’t stop, either.

They just seem so cool - so put together. So unlike you. You want to impress them. You don’t want to ruin the first possibility of friends in this new life you’re building for yourself.

Eventually you work up the courage to send off an initial text to each of them. Just to give them your name to save if they so choose - plus an extra thank you to Simon for giving you their numbers in the first place. Something simple and borderline cold. Too cold, maybe? Maybe you sound irritated. You hope not. You just want them to like you. Friends in new places are hard and to have someone around you who gets how it feels to need accommodations would just feel so… lovely. Your phone may or may not go flying onto your bed while you bury your face in your hands out of sheer nervousness.

You don’t expect it to chime about a minute later. Right as you’re staring to calm down, of course. It sends your heart violently pounding all over again.

J >> Bonnie lass!

J >> So glad u texted!!

>> Sorry it took so long lol

Oh, you could just slap yourself. You don’t have anything better than that? At all? Christ.

J >> Nah Nah

J >> No worries

J >> Actually I was wondering if u would mind if I came by tomorrow

J >> Just to chat

J >> need an excuse to get out of the house

“How the hell does he type that fast?” You scoff to yourself.

>> Yeah, come by anytime.

>> totally

>> yea sounds cool

>> rad, man

A message from Simon pops up mid your internal battle with how to respond, replying with a simple thumbs up. Very in character, you think. He knows how to be nonchalant. What would Simon say? Something casual, maybe a little formal.

>> If you like. You’re always welcome.

Okay maybe that was too much like Simon. You sigh heavily m before adding,

>> I’m trying out a new blueberry loaf

>> If you want to test for me :)

Better. That’s a little better. With another heavy sigh you decide to drop your phone into your nightstand for the rest of the day. Your heart really cannot handle this much emotional pressure.

~~~

You sort of end up just forgetting about the texts. With your phone out of sight and out of mind upstairs in your apartment it almost catches you off guard when Johnny comes striding through the door just before close. He’s dressed more casually than the last couple of times you saw him - having broken out the summer shorts and a graphic tee for some band you don’t recognize. It suits him, though.

“Hey, bon.” He grins.

“Hey.” You smile back, finishing with putting up your stocking baskets before dusting off your hands and turning around. “Simon closing up?”

“Aye.”

You hum. “Come on back, I’ll get you a slice of that loaf I mentioned.”

Johnny follows you quietly. Uncharacteristically quietly. That’s okay - you don’t have a problem with hanging out in silence. It doesn’t feel tense, surprisingly enough. He leaves Riley out front again. Should you get her a dog bed? Maybe if he comes by consistently. That would be nice. Maybe that’s wishful thinking.

“It’s sort of a pound cake but fluffier. I might make an icing for it but I don’t know if that would be too sweet…” You trail off, focusing on plating up the piece. You’re not sure what compels you to try and make it pretty for him. Probably something you could blame on your grandmother. She did have an obsession with presentation.

Johnny hums loudly after taking a bite, talking around the mouthful. “Y’should totally make an icing.” He swallows roughly. “Si would go crazy fer this.”

“Oh?” You smile. “I’ll send some home with you.”

There’s a lapse of silence while Johnny chews on his slice of bread and you pack up some in a paper bag for him to take home. The only sounds in the room comprised of your cutting and folding and the hum of the cooling oven.

“You’re being weirdly quiet.” You blurt, immediately covering your mouth with your hand. “I, uh, I mean that isn’t a bad thing! I don’t mind… I just, uh, was… sorry, never mind…”

“Well I did come wit’ a bit of an ulterior motive…” Johnny admits, glancing off to the side shyly. It’s a show, you think. Johnny doesn’t seem the type of man to have felt shy a day in his life.

You tilt your head. “Oh?”

He dusts off his hands and grins. “Let us take ye out! In celebration of yer first full month.”

Has it been a month already? “Oh - no, no you don’t have to-“

“C’mon! It’s a big accomplishment.” His smile is so bright that you almost believe his idea that you’ve done something great.

“…alright.” You give a tentative smile. It’s hard to believe they like you enough to want to hang out casually in the evening. Hard to imagine anyone liking you that much but you’re not one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

“There’s a pub down the street - the one on the corner. Want tae meet us there around six?” Johnny gives you that lovely smile. How could you ever say no to a smile like that?

“Okay.”

You spend far too long changing in and out of clothes and fussing with your hair. Up-do’s and buns and braids. A tank top then a sweater then a t-shirt. There’s no reason to feel this stressed over it. It’s not a date or anything. Besides, it doesn’t seem to make a difference. Either way you look like a frumpy dumpling. Eventually you land on jeans and one of your designated ‘going out tops.’ At least it’s a good excuse to wear something other than work clothes or loungewear.

Excitement and anxiety thrum under your skin like electricity as you make your way down the street. You feel painfully nauseous - stopping once or twice just to make sure you aren’t about to throw up for real.

The pub is surprisingly quiet when you enter. Obviously somewhere only real locals hang out - there’s no theme or really any decor in general. Just a bar, some booths and a couple pool tables. You scan the floor a few times, not seeing either Johnny or Simon (not that they would be hard to miss). Eventually you just grab a soda from the bar and slide into one of the booths closer to the back. A quiet spot facing the door where you can easily watch for them.

As time ticks on you begin to grow increasingly nervous. Did you get the time wrong? No, no you triple checked. You even wrote it down in your planner. Your leg begins to bounce furiously, heart nearly beating out of your chest. Did they decide to ditch? You wouldn’t really blame them. They’re way out of your league when it comes to friends. Maybe Johnny had an emergency? Should you call Simon? If he had an emergency it would make sense that they would forget to notice you. What if something really bad happened? What if-

The front door opens and Simon’s wide frame strides through, holding the door for Johnny and Riley to come in behind him. You let out a quiet sigh of relief, willing your leg to stop bouncing with a pinch to your thigh. Why are you always so damn dramatic?

Johnny lights up with an ear to ear grin when he spots you, bee-lining for the booth while Simon casually walks up to the bar. It’s almost comedic, the way he dwarfs the counter. Johnny leans on the side of the booth, waiting for Simon, you think.

“Glad ye could come out.” He looks you over, eyes flicking from your plain top to the very practical, not at all stylish up do that you landed on for the evening.

You do your best not to squirm under his gaze. “Me too…”

Simon comes back with two beers in hand and slides them onto the table. He scoots into the inner booth to give Johnny the outer edge. Riley happily sits beside his leg and practically grins at you in a near mirror image of Johnny’s. You’d never do it while she’s on the job, of course, but part of you wants to give her a pat on the head and coo at her for being so polite.

Johnny gives you an apologetic smile. “Sorry we were a bit late-”

“Johnny redid his hair about five times.” Simon butts in, not reacting at all to Johnny’s sputtering protest. He glances at your half-drunk soda. “Want me t’ grab you a beer?”

“Oh, no, I’ll just stick to coke.”

They blink at you. Simon cocks his head slightly. “You sure?”

You chew your lip. “Uh, alcohol tends to aggravate my symptoms is all...”

“Then why’d ye agree to drinks? We coulda gone somewhere else.” Johnny frowns.

You shrug. “I don’t mind. I… maybe this is over sharing but I’d rather go out and be kind of normal than just… not ever. Y’know?”

His expression softens. For having such icy blue eyes they are so, so warm. “I get it.”

“How’d you two meet anyway?” You blurt, taking a left turn to get the conversation off of you. It’s the first question that comes to mind. Maybe it’s rude - maybe you’re prying too much already.

“Military.” Simon grunts. “SAS.”

“Si retired wit’ me after I was discharged.” Johnny points to his scar the same way he did when you first met. “Russians scrambled my egg a bit.”

“Couldn’t do the time apart…” Simon murmurs, eyes locked on Johnny’s face. It’s vulnerable. More than he’s used to - you can see it in the way he tenses after saying it.

Something passes between them that a deep, wounded part of you desperately wishes to understand.

You can’t help but start giggling to yourself. They both give you an incredulous look. “Sorry, sorry - it’s just, that’s like… totally a romance book premise. It’s sweet. Really.”

“Och, aye. Wouldn’t know it t’ look at him but Si’s a real romantic.” Johnny bats his eyes at the other man, who just rolls his in response. The corner of his scarred mouth quirks up subtly.

“SAS…” You repeat, staring at your drink. “That’s like Navy Seal shit, right?”

“We worked with them a few times, yes.” Simon nods. There’s an air of ‘do not ask anything more specific’ in his voice.

“Huh.” You take that for what it is and sit back, squinting at them. “You don’t look it, honestly.”

Johnny laughs. “Tha’s just cause ye havennae seen Simon with his gear on. The Ghost.” He wiggles his fingers along as he makes a stupid, spooky sound effect. “I domesticated him.”

Simon scoffs but doesn’t deny it, just takes a quiet sip of his beer.

“Riley’s a vet, too.” Johnny pats her head. “Got too skittish around loud noises but she transitioned into a service dog nicely.”

“Now she’s just spoiled.” Simon rolls his eyes in faux annoyance. You get the strong feeling that he’s the one doing the spoiling.

You find yourself relaxing as the night goes on. Slouching in your seat rather than sitting ramrod straight and nervously twiddling your thumbs. They never press you to drink, never insist that you’ll be fine with just one. They take your statement as fact and it isn’t brought up again. That shouldn’t be as significant as it is, now that you think about it.

Johnny’s words begin to slur a little bit on his fourth, no maybe fifth, beer. You aren’t sure. It’s very cute, the little blush that forms across his cheeks. Simon loosens up, too. He slings an arm around the back of the booth and Johnny readily tucks himself into the open spot. You find yourself wondering about their military career again. You can’t picture either of them committing violence - especially Simon. Sure, he’s big and gruff but he looks at Johnny so, so softly.

Simon is the one to call it a night - though you have a feeling its because you nodded off a couple times. Not out of boredom, you try really, really hard to pay attention to Johnny rambling about the chemistry of different explosives. He makes it interesting, somehow. Really it’s just that you’ve been awake for… holy shit almost twenty hours!

“D’you need a ride?” Simon asks as you exit the pub, hands firmly shoved into his pockets.

“No, I’ll be fine.” You don’t know how to interpret the look he’s giving you. It’s intense, but not annoyed or displeased. He has such a weird knack for unreadable but distinct expressions. You wonder if you’ll ever get close enough to get good at deciphering them.

You jump when Johnny takes both your hands in, kissing the backs of them with a sloppy, drunk smile. “Thank ye fer comin’ out. “

Somehow your face feels hotter than a damn oven. You tuck your hands to your chest, kicking shyly at the sidewalk. “Th-thanks for the invite. We, uh, we could do it again sometime?”

You glance up hopefully, praying that you didn’t misread the situation. You’ve done that before - thought people liked you more than they did. Johnny just grins wider somehow and nods excitedly.

You watch them walk off in the other direction, hand in hand. Johnny giggles about something loudly and you can see Simon’s shoulders shake with a far more silent laugh. All the way until they disappear down the street.

The sheer amount that the image hurts your heart makes you feel evil.

~~~

The pub changed something. What, you don’t know. Either way, you fall into an easy pattern with Johnny and Simon over the next couple weeks. Exchanges of food, leftovers or morsels about to turn, little visits back and forth between your shops. Johnny continues to stop by after close, just hanging around with you while Simon closes up shop.

You can’t deny how much you look forward to hearing that door chime followed by a too-loud greeting from Johnny. How your heart flips in your chest when those bright blue eyes peek around the corner into the back room or light up while trying a new recipes you’ve been testing. You’re still a bit awkward - unsure how to react when he throws an arm around your shoulders or listens oh so intently while you talk about nothing important.

Things can’t ever be all sunshine and rainbows, though. Not for you. A new problem has arisen as summer truly sets in - the comfortable spring breezes giving way to nothing but bright, unfiltered sun. One you didn’t expect to impact you this much living this far north.

Heat.

It’s hard to breathe in the back room while you’re baking. Hard to keep your water and salt intake high enough to compensate for how fast you lose them. You might as well get a permanent saline drip attached to you at this point. You definitely didn’t google if that was physically possible. Your budget for liquid IVs and other supplements nearly doubles. Standing over the massive oven in the back room has your head swimming a few times. You end up resting longer on your weekends, unable to keep up like you could in cooler weather.

It’s okay, you tell yourself, the summer here isn’t like back home. It will pass quicker. Plus, you at least have methods of dealing with it now other than crossing your fingers and praying.

“Bonnie!” Johnny suddenly appears in your doorway - that charming smile splitting his face from ear to ear. “Ye made it up Main Street yet?”

“No?” You tilt your head and try to ignore the way your vision spots momentarily at the motion. “Why?”

“Ye dinnae hear about the summer festival?” He leans on your counter. You shake your head. “It’s a yearly thing. Not that big a deal but they have some fun games an’ it’s nice tae see everyone out an’ about. Si an’ I are about tae head down. Come wit’?”

You hesitate. The exhaustion in your body tugs at your spine. Your limbs feel heavy. This morning really got to you - out of towners who must have come for the festival flooded your shop the moment it opened on top of your Saturday regulars. Not that you’re complaining, really. It’s easily your best day so far. You want to go with them, though, despite the ache in your back and the sting in your joints. It sounds so fun and it’s never a bad idea to take part in your new community’s festivities.

“Yeah. That sounds nice.” You smile. You can tough it out for an hour, then come back home. Yeah, just an hour. You’ll be fine.

You hadn’t noticed Simon leaned up at the entrance to your shop. Your eyes lock on his arms. This is the first time you’ve actually seen him in short sleeves. You can’t help but stare at his half-sleeve tattoo - all skulls and bombs and other military motifs. Faded and sun worn. Yeah, if you’d seen that sooner you definitely would have picked up on the whole military thing. You bite your lip to keep from snickering about it.

You can hear the music drifting from the speakers down the street. A few kids run by with balloons and cheap carnival prizes. It almost reminds you of the Spring Fling back home, just missing the extreme American flag theming across every booth and vendor front. Now that you’re looking around, you can actually see several booths that have been sponsored by various businesses in the area. Even the post office has a snow cone stand. The deeper you get into the event, the more flamboyant the decor becomes. Multicolored streamers and pennet flags connect stands, creating an almost canopy effect.

Simon stops rather abruptly at a booth, waiting behind a few teenagers tossing rings onto bottles. You stop with Johnny about two feet away. What’s he thinking? Simon doesn’t seem like the type who would be too entertained by basic carnival games. Even so, he steps forward and passes over a couple bills to the vendor as soon as the teenagers leave.

“Si’s really good at these. Watch.” Johnny grins beside you.

“Aren’t they rigged?” You raise an eyebrow.

Johnny doesn’t answer, eyes locked on his husband as he lines up one of the rings. You have to lean slightly to see around the breadth of the man - the multicolor rings almost cartoonishly small in his hands. Cute. Your eyes get impossibly wide with each toss, every single one landing comfortably on the bottle necks as if it’s the easiest thing in the world. As if this isn’t one of the most commonly rigged carnival games.

“Holy shit…” You mutter, still staring.

“Aye, tha’s a SAS sniper for ye.” Johnny laughs. “Glad tae see it still comes in handy.”

Simon huffs out a quiet laugh at that. Almost more of a sigh if it weren’t for the shaking of his shoulders. You love it - their little dynamic. The bond between them that’s so strong it’s almost visible.

“‘ere.” Simon turns to you suddenly, holding out a cheap little carnival prize. You can’t even begin to decipher what it’s supposed to be - some sort of furry puff ball with big, embroidered anime eyes and two felt antennae sticking up out of it’s purple head… body… thing…

Your face heats. “F-, uh, me?”

He shrugs. “Suits you. Riley will just chew it up if we take it home.”

“Aye. She’s so good with everythin’ but cheap plushies.” Johnny snickers.

You glance down at the dog in question - her dark eyes glued to the toy in Simon’s hand. Her tail thumps against the ground where she sists dutifully, but you can see the desire to snatch the thing away in her twitchy ears and pleading eyes. You snort, taking the stupid thing and tucking it under your arm with the prayer that they don’t notice the heat now spreading from your cheeks to your ears.

“Thanks…” you murmur, already mentally deciding where to add it to the mess of stuffies covering your bed already.

Somehow you end up walking between them down the street - Simon on your left and Johnny on your right with Riley in tow. You stop at a few other games here and there. All pretty basic. Johnny absolutely kills at the dunk booth.

Simon tires his hardest to help you with your terrible aim, “Just visualize it. Y’have t’ account for the arc.”

You get to the point of sticking your tongue out in concentration. Even so you only manage to knock down a couple of the wooden ducks at the ‘Dunk-A-Duck’ stand. You do, however, win one of those rock candy sticks at the guessing booth. You just hand it off to Johnny. It’s probably not best to load up on sugar in your current state.

Johnny excitedly points to different buildings giving you a rundown of the history of his hometown as you walk. Simon seems to barely be listening. He’s probably heard this a thousand times. Prattling on about the old town square, the church bell that a bunch of teenagers spray painted one time (Johnny was not involved, how could you accuse him of that?)

You find yourself focusing on your feet - keeping each step even and fast enough to remain on pace with them. One, two, one, two, one, two. The air begins to thicken. Muggy and heavy on your skin. Your breaths become shallow and fast. You can’t catch it, the air seeming to get stuck in your throat rather than reaching your lungs. Spots begin to dance across your vision. You stumble over nothing.

Not now! Come on! You’ve been doing so well!

Riley presses against your leg acting as a counter weight. Your body moves on instinct to grab whatever you can - hands wrapping around something strong and covered with cloth. An arm solid as rebar. Hopefully it’s someone you know. All you can see are colorless shapes.

“Gonna pass out - don’t freak!” You gasp before your legs give out.

It’s not that you go entirely out - it’s rare that you fully black out. It’s more like being stuck. Limp and fuzzy and confused. Almost like sleep paralysis. There’s voices and people moving around you. Someone has picked you up, you think, based on the swaying motion and the passing shapes around you. Maybe that’s just vertigo. A door bell chimes.

You finally begin to really come to when something icy is pressed to your forehead. It couldn’t have been more than a handful of seconds that you were gone, but it takes much longer for the world around you to come back into focus.

“I’m sorry…” You murmur, eyes stinging. Even after all these years it’s so damn embarrassing. You blink, the distinct mural that decorates the ceiling of the post office slowly coming into view. Johnny said a big time traveling artist painted it back in the nineties.

“Ye alright?” Johnny murmurs, crouched down beside you. Riley sniffs at your hand, seeming satisfied when you finally move it on your own.

You nod slowly. “Overheated…”

“Give her this.” Someone says. An event medic, you think. The boys must have flagged them down. Fingers press to your pulse point, a light shines in your eyes and you follow it. A quick check of vitals. Johnny shoves a water bottle in your hand as soon as the medic decides you’re fine to move - the contents distinctly murky from some sort of electrolyte pack that’s been shaken into it.

“Up y’get. Slowly does it.” Simon helps you sit up with a hand on your back. It’s so gentle. You don’t miss how he cages in your body the way only someone intimately familiar with caretaking might. Fully ready to catch you if you go limp again.

You sip slow, eyes glued to the ground. You feel so fucking stupid. Can’t even walk down a street without creating some sort of scene. They’re never going to want to hang out with you again, are they? You can’t go out drinking, can’t walk around a festival for longer than a couple hours. You distracted Riley. What if something happened to Johnny while you were having your spell? She might not have alerted correctly because of you. She might have gotten confused and then he could have gotten hurt. He might have-

“Ye really should drink tha’ instead of glarin’ at it.” Johnny pulls you from your thoughts. He’s now sat with his legs crossed beside you. Riley’s head rests in his lap. She seems calm. Content now that the emergency is over and happily lying on a cool floor.

You hum, chugging the last bit of it quickly. “I’m sorry…”

“Don’t be.” Simon says curtly. “Does this ‘appen often?”

You shrug. “Not as much anymore… usually my medication keeps me stable.”

“Do ye need a doctor?” Johnny tilts his head slightly. There’s no judgment in his tone - in either of their tones. Just calm concern. It probably shouldn’t make you want to cry as much as it does.

You shake your head. “I’ve got liquid IV at home. Just need to sleep it off.”

Hopefully. In reality, a pain flare up is inevitable now. You just won’t know how bad until you’re fully in it.

“Let’s get ye home.” Johnny says, knees popping as he stands.

“I-I’m fine!” You insist, mentally preparing to get yourself up off the floor. “I can get home on my own - I don’t want to ruin your time.”

Johnny levels his gaze onto you, so serious it almost looks angry. It doesn’t match his face. “We’re not leavin’ ye tae get home alone like this.”

You’re caught off guard when an arm slides under your back and another under knees - lifting you like you weigh half of what you do in reality. Like you’re a paperweight instead of a boulder. You blink up at Simon, far too surprised to be embarrassed. At least at first. You splutter out a poor attempt at convincing him to put you down. Excuse and reason after reason and excuse. They roll off him like water off a ducks back. Your face burns as he steps out of the post office with you neatly tucked against his chest - Johnny and Riley in tow.

If you allow yourself to be honest, to give into that weaker part of you (or, at least, the part you consider to be weak) you could possibly admit that this feels nice. Being cared for feels nice. Having your body up against someone else feels nice. It’s been a long time since anyone touched you outside of a polite handshake or accidental bump. You sink into it despite yourself - relaxing against Simon’s chest. They were right, you wouldn’t have made it back. Your head is too fuzzy and there’s that telltale pain in your shoulders radiating up to your neck that signifies an oncoming Bed Day.

It doesn’t take long with Simon’s lengthy strides to get back to your building. You probably wouldn’t have been able to keep up to that running. Well, you can’t really run much at all so you definitely wouldn’t. A stupid, muddled train of thought that melts into the hazy bog of your current mental state. Even Johnny trails a few feet behind. Neither of them speak, marching in determined silence. You attempt to subtly check their faces for any anger. You’d understand if they were angry. Most people would get angry. You interrupted their day out with your useless drama. All you get is a wide, bright grin from Johnny when your eyes eventually meet his.

Simon puts you down with all the care in the world. As if you’re made of fine china. His hand stays on your upper back - planted firmly between your shoulder blades and ready to catch you if need be. Your vision swims a bit, your joints feel like jelly but you manage to dig your keys out of your pocket and unlock the door.

“Here.” Johnny plops the puff ball back into your hands just as you turn to say goodbye. To say thank you - to apologize profusely.

Your brows raise. You completely forgot about it while swimming around in a sea of embarrassment - he must have picked it up for you. You hug it to your chest with a quiet, “Thanks.”

You shift your weight side to side, psyching yourself up for the crawl up the stairs. Probably literally. You don’t think you could stay upright if you tried to walk them like a regular day, or even with an aid. Like a regular or semi-regular person. Fuck.

Johnny follows your eyes up at the staircase. He must sense some hesitation in you. “Do ye need help up?”

You bite your lip, staring at the ground. Standing in one place seems alright, but the thought of climbing is so daunting, even with the cane you have stationed at the bottom of the steps for that exact purpose. It’s embarrassing. You’re young, you should be able to walk up some damn stairs. It isn’t even that many. It’s barely a full flight. Just one story of stairs for fuck’s sake.

“Hey.” Simon touches your cheek, the action snapping your eyes to his in surprise. “It’s okay. C’mere.”

He picks you up again in the same fashion with barely a grunt, taking his time up the steps so as not to jostle you. How many times has he done this with Johnny? you wonder. That’s the only explanation for how good he is at keeping your equilibrium so even. You wonder if he practiced - if he took caretaking classes. He probably did. Does he keep up at the gym just so he can take care of his husband? Simon might be quiet and a little formal, but he exudes dedication.

“Sorry it’s messy…” You murmur when they reach the top of the steps. Glancing behind you, you see Riley sitting patiently at the bottom. Johnny must have told her to stay. “Haven’t gotten to fully unpack…”

You’ve been spending too much time in bed on the weekends. Fucking lazy.

Johnny just laughs. “Ye shoulda seen the first place Simon an’ I had.”

“Wasn’t that bad.” Simon argues, carefully setting you down on the couch. His hands hold your waist to steady you. They’re so warm… It feels wrong to be disappointed when he lets go.

“We hadnae figured out a system yet.” Johnny huffs, hands on his hips. “We ended up hirin’ a specialized maid service the dishes got so backed up.”

You scoff, laying back against the couch with that stupid carnival prize still in your arms. Like it’s the only thing grounding you to reality. The tears that have been stinging your eyes this entire time continue to threaten to spill - a myriad of blinks and careful breaths the only thing keeping them back.

Johnny sits beside you slowly. You can’t meet his eyes. “Do… do ye want tae tell us what it is? Ye donnae have tae - it’s up tae ye. Just if somethin’ happens again…”

“We’d like to be prepared.” Simon jumps in where Johnny trails off.

You chew your lip, still staring up at the ceiling. It splits and that coppery taste coats your tongue for a moment. “I, uh, it’s called POTS. There’s different types but basically my body can’t regulate blood flow and pressure right…” You shrug. “Like I said my medication usually keeps me mostly okay.”

It’s the pain that really gets to you usually, but you don’t need to start dumping on them about that. There’s no reason to spill your guts about things they can’t fix.

“Thanks fer tellin’ us.” Johnny smiles. You stiffen slightly when he reaches out to tuck some hair behind your ear. You tilt your head, still resting on the back of the couch, to meet his eye. “Get some rest, yeah? We’ll lock the knob behind us. Call if ye need anythin’.”

“Okay.” You nod, keeping your eyes down and picking at your nails. “Sorry… about all this… I didn’t - I don’t… I’m sorry.”

“Donnae apologize.” He says softly as he stands. “Never apologize. We’re your friends, aye? Friends help friends. Tha’s all there is to it.”

Simon gives you a discerning nod behind him, expression both soft and deeply serious.

Friends? They consider you real life proper friends? Really? You can’t help but beam up at him. “Yeah.”

A/N: I’ve re-read this chapter so many times that it’s total mush in my brain which tells me it’s time to be done with it.

Bonus: I made a Pinterest board for this fic

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bigfatbimbo · 2 days

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Subtop Vox with a quiet partner. He's doing his absolute best, whining as he desperately tries to make them feel good too but isn't getting the reaction he needs so he starts tearing up because he thinks he's not doing good enough which is not only a hit to his ego but also makes him worry they're gonna leave him or something because he's apparently not good enough for them to be loud. Pathetic men beloved...

a/n — I don’t think you wanted the reader to be this mean to Vox but um… I dunno. Also if you think this sounds similar to other works i’ve made, your right the writers block is crazy!!

warnings — dom reader, f!reader kinda, mommy is used once, subtop!Vox, NOT PROOFREAD, bimbo needs to sleep so bad.

summary — Vox fucks a quiet reader but gets incredibly insecure and fucking cries

Being quiet during sex is such a way to fuck with Vox’s head. He’s used to drawing reactions from people, whether they’re on their knees worshipping him, or humiliating him on public television, he’s very good at provoking some kind of emotion.

So when he’s on top fucking into you, and you’re not moaning in pleasure and begging for more, he can’t help but take it to heart. He’d probably try to sweet talk you to get you in the mood, “I bet you like this, huh?” and then turning into “What..do I need to be faster?” “Why don’t you like this??”

To really leave a mark on his ego, you’d give him some sort of condescending response like, “Aw, It’s okay, you’re trying your best. Look if it’s really bothering you, I guess I could always pretend.”

His brows would furrow, trying to grit his teeth so he doesn’t whimper, “Fuck—kk you—“

But he doesn’t want you to pretend for the same reason he doesn’t just hypnotize you: he needs you to actually like it. Not for any moral reasons, don’t get him wrong, but because he needs to feed his ego, make himself feel needed and capable.

But how are you not reacting?? The speed his dick is jolting into you… the feeling on his dick… fuck, it’s getting hard to form a coherent thought. But there is one that stays. His body is almost overtaken by the euphoric feeling his getting from your tightness, if he’s in shambles, why aren’t you? Is he weak, not good enough, both?

Finally, he whines while rutting into you, desperately searching for any trace of validation from you. “W-what do you want? Pleas—zz—se, i’ll do anything— Should I go slower? Ah, I need—“

“You need mommy’s approval? Want me to tell you how good you’re doing?”

He’d whine and nod his head pathetically, chasing his feeling of pleasure despite the growing shame in his stomach.

Finally, you weren’t being so damn quiet, jesus, at least you were going to talk him through it.

”Then do better.”

You say it like it’s so obvious, and so final, to make matters worse you stopped talking after that, going back to your silent persona as you gaze up at him with little to no emotion.

It’d take a moment to sink in but he’d try, and fail, to cut the next whine short, before it dissolves into a choked sob. The only thing that could make this moment more humiliating for Vox is crying, but he can’t stop his eyes from filling with tears.

He was Vox, the Vox. You should be graveling, thanking him for wasting his time on you. But instead, you’ve made it apparent the sex was only good on his end, and fuck it was. Humiliating, yes, but that added so much to it.

He almost wanted to let a tear fall, to bait you out of your silence so you could once again degrade him. Was that too far? Was he just vulnerable and horny? Probably. But god, if the control switch didn’t fuck with his head.

He wondered if you thought he was a failure. Shit, a year rolled down in his screen, that was enough to let the flood gates loose. He didn’t mean for that to actually happen, but he slowed his pace so catch your reaction.

Your gaze, to his surprise, softened. Your thumb came up to his screen and wiped the water to the side, but staying on his cheek area.

“Oh honey, you’re not doing that bad. It does feel good.” Your sudden reassurance came as a surprise to Vox, who only could whine in response. You weren’t even being that nice, but that didn’t stop a bother tear from spilling over, and it certainly didn’t stop Vox’s hips from momentarily ceasing their jolting.

Then, your expression changes, “Did I say you could stop?”

#hazbin hotel x reader #dom reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel smut #vox x reader #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin vox x reader #vox x reader smut #vox x y/n

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luvlucia · 2 days

Text

tension - yjw

summary: jungwon has been working a lot lately and you've finally had enough but he can't stand your brattiness || warnings: dom!jungwon x sub!reader, brat tamer! jungwon x brat!reader, argument, angry sex, unprotected sex || genre: smut, angst, established relationship || word count: approximately 1290 || a/n: see the request here!

For the past few weeks, Jungwon and you had barely any time together. He has been constantly working lately and only really home when you were about to go to sleep, or already asleep, and then gone in the morning. Every time he was home he was really tired and overall not in the best mood from how much he was working.

Today, Jungwon had gotten home earlier than usual but he had to leave soon due to an important meeting that he was mandated to attend.

You hadn't said anything about his absence the past two weeks but Jungwon could tell it was making you upset. He understood because he was also annoyed with how seldom he saw you as of late.

You sat on the end of the bed as you watched Jungwon fix himself up, having to leave soon. As you watched him your pout grew. "Jungwon.." You softly said, hesitantly.

"Mhm?" He responded, still looking at himself in the mirror as he continued to fix himself up.

"Can you at least eat dinner with me before you go?" You asked. You would be happy with even a short dinner with him because you knew that you'd most likely be sleeping when he got back home.

"I can't, angel. I have to go to that meeting soon." Jungwon said, glancing back at you momentarily before looking back at himself in the mirror, giving himself one last once over before turning to face you again.

"I'm sure you could have a quick dinner with me before you need to go." You nearly pleaded.

"I can't." Jungwon reaffirmed, his expression serious. "I'll see you after the meeting." He then said and that only made you more annoyed.

You rolled your eyes, making him furrow his eyebrows a little. "Yeah, you'll see me but I won't see you." You said since you'd probably be sleeping.

Jungwon let out a sigh, "So stay up." He said, annoyed. He wasn't really annoyed with you, more at the situation actually. He was just taking it out on you.

"Why should I have to stay up for you?" You said, completely bothered by him saying that.

"You shouldn't but it'd solve your problem, right?" Jungwon asked, his tone becoming less calm.

"Or you could just eat dinner with me for a bit and I'd be satisfied. Why can't you just do that? We have some time. It could be quick." You said, sounding both irritated and desperate.

Jungwon looked away from you for a moment before looking back into your eyes, "I told you I can't do that. I don't have time for that."

"You never have time for anymore! Even when you are here." You said rather loudly. "I mean, do you really have to work that much or are you just doing it so that you don't have to be with me?" You then asked, tears brimming in your eyes.

"Do you even hear what you're saying right now?" Jungwon asked, stepping closer to you as you remained sitting on the end of the bed. "You think I want to work all the time? To be away from you all the time? I mean, come on. I need you to really think about it because what you're saying makes no sense."

"I never get to see you anymore, Jungwon!" You complained. "It's so lonely, can't you understand that?" You then asked. "No, you can't. You at least have friends at work." You added, just saying stuff because you were upset and at your breaking point.

"You need to watch your mouth, Y/n." Jungwon says firmly, stepping closer, and looking down at you.

"Why should I? You're not going to do anything about it. You have to go to the meeting, remember?" You said rather brattily.

Without any warning, Jungwon leans down and crashes his lips against yours. The kiss was hungry and rough. You were surprised at the suddenness of all of it, having no time to react as he laid you down on the bed, standing in between your legs as he continued to harshly kiss you, groaning into your mouth.

Your hands made their way to his broad shoulders as he continued to sloppily kiss you, his hips grinding against your own. You let out a soft moan into his mouth as he continued. Jungwon pulled away from your lips for a moment as he grabbed the waistband of your shorts, grabbing ahold of your underwear as well as pulled them both off of you, tossing them to the side before spreading your legs again and grinding his clothed crotch against your bare one.

"Not going to do anything about it, huh?" Jungwon repeated what you'd said, a small smirk on his face despite the angry look in his eyes. He scoffed as he undid his belt and unzipped his zipper before pulling his own pants and underwear off, letting them drop down his legs.

Completely without warning, he grabbed the base of his cock and shoved himself inside of you, making you let out a squeal as you grabbed his arms. Jungwon started thrusting into you abruptly, letting out grunts and groans with every thrust.

"You c-complain and complain... like I... like I have a choice in how much I work?" Jungwon asked through his thrusts. "You... act like I- I want this?" He continued as you let out whines and moans of pleasure. "You don't know what the... the fuck you're talking about." He breathily said.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry." You whined as he continued his movement in you. "I just... I love you." You said, tears brimming in your arms as your grip tightened on his flexed arms.

"I love you more." Jungwon groaned. "Even if you think I don't." He said. You didn't say anything in response, just letting out more sounds of satisfaction. "I- I work so much... for us. Yet... yet you treat me like I'm some asshole." He continued, letting out his frustration not only through him fucking you but through his words as well.

You wrapped your arms around his neck gently, pulling his face down to yours, just wanting to kiss him. You missed this intimacy between the two of you, not having much of a chance to do this with him working so much. Even if these weren't the best circumstances with him being so annoyed, it didn't matter to you. You just wanted him.

Jungwon locked lips with yours again as he continued his thrusts, the both of you already coming close to your releases. Eventually, he stopped kissing you and just kept his mouth on yours as he let out louder groans of pleasure, your moans filling his ears as you covered his cock in your cum. He thrust into you a few more times before his hips stilled and he released inside of you.

Jungwon remained inside of you for a few minutes before pulling out, your guys' seed making a mess as it poured out of you. Jungwon fixed his bottoms before going to the nightstand and grabbing some tissues to clean you up.

Once you were cleaned up and dressed again, Jungwon sat down next to you on the end of the bed, looking over at you as he rested his weight on his palms that rested on the mattress.

"I love you, okay? I'm sorry that I've been working so much lately but it'll get better soon." Jungwon said and you just nodded, looking down at your lap. Jungwon moved one of his hands and gently took your chin in his grasp, turning your face to look at him. "You need to not be such a brat though. You know I don't like it."

-- link to my masterlist

#luvlucia #minors dni #enhypen #enhypen smut #enhypen hard thoughts #yang jungwon #yang jungwon x reader #yang jungwon smut #jungwon smut #yang jungwon hard thoughts #kpop #kpop smut #angst #smut #established relationship

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httpsserene · 2 days

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I love your entire page, so I was thrilled to see that your requests are open. May I request a story with Daniel Ricciardo x Reader? Perhaps something where the reader is experiencing a moment of low self-esteem, comparing herself to his ex, and feeling down since they've recently started dating, yet the fans want his ex back. When Danny is dominant it makes me melt so perhaps a smut that is center on body worshipping yet leads to crazy back shots/missionary. He made you come multiple times and despite you trying to tap out , he’s not stopping anytime soon creating a big creamy mess 🫠

𝖍𝖙𝖙𝖕𝖘𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖓𝖊'𝖘 2𝕶 𝕾𝖕𝖊𝖈𝖎𝖆𝖑 | 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕯𝖆𝖓𝖎𝖊𝖑 𝕽𝖎𝖈𝖈𝖎𝖆𝖗𝖉𝖔 𝕰𝖉𝖎𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓

𝐄𝐩𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐝𝐞 𝐅𝐨𝐮𝐫: 𝐓𝐨𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐰 𝟐

Summary: She’s the least favorite Formula One WAG. At first, she was optimistic, the fans would eventually get over it and maybe even start liking her—but she now knows that was a pretty naive thought. She’s constantly compared to Daniel’s ex-girlfriend—she’s not as pretty as her, she’s not as supportive as her, she’s not as popular as her, etc. Unfortunately, in a moment of low self-esteem—she breaks and thinks maybe the fans are right. Daniel, with a sixth sense of knowing when you’ve lost your mind, comes home and sees you gathering every belonging of yours that’s migrated to his apartment like you’re breaking up with him. He tries to change your mind with his words, but that doesn’t quite reassure you completely; so he has no choice but to do it with his actions, too. Pairing: daniel ricciardo x fem!black-coded!reader (her skin is described as brown) Content Warning: 18+ only. mdni. explicit sexual content. no beta we die like men. no srs it’s barely edited. angst with a happy ending. hurt/comfort. dom/sub undertones. arguing. breaking up/making up. those three little words. attempt at humor (a lil bit). implied subspace. insecure!reader. body worship. vaginal sex. oral sex (female receiving). online hate. overstimulation. protected sex. aftercare. this is dirty, i am so sorry. Word Count: 5k words.

Author's Notes: okay it's a couple hours late, but i was hit with a little creative genius and i think you guys will really enjoy this one! and it's the longest one too! an entire five-thousand words wow. aren't you glad i added more to this masterpiece.

let me know what you think! xxxxx

prev 2k special join taglist feedback & requests table of contents next ↻

You’re trending on Twitter. No—not for one of your TikToks that you hope went viral, but under the hashtag #breakupwithherdaniel. Fans have decided to start a movement to make signs to take to the next Grand Prix, with pictures of your face posted next to that hashtag. In all of the tweets, they’re commenting on how they wished Daniel and his ex were still together, or comparing you to her, and saying that you’re toxic—you! In this situation, where none of the people online personally know you and take to bashing you on the internet; you are the toxic one! And that’s the last straw. You start packing your shit up into bags and whatever boxes you can find. A large amount of your belongings have migrated to Daniel’s apartment, even if you don’t officially live with him. You’ve been dating him for just over six months, and the entire time your relationship has been public his fans have harassed you.

They prefer his ex over you, it’s that simple. It probably doesn’t help that you’re not like one of the white models everybody thinks f1 drivers should date, but enough is enough. It didn’t bother you at first, you thought with just a little time everyone would calm down but the opposite has happened. They’ve only gotten worse and things have escalated to the point where it’s affecting your career and—you can’t take it anymore. And, maybe they’re right. Daniel doesn’t deserve to date a girl who can’t take the harsh eye of the media and fans. He’d be better off without you, and he might certainly be better off with his ex. She was there in his darkest times and his brightest successes. They ended on good terms so with a little charm, Daniel wouldn’t have a problem with getting back with her, surely.

You’re throwing your bags on the living room couch, pulling a suitcase you left here from when you last traveled with him to throw your shoes into. And then, you hear the door open.

Daniel’s happy voice carries to you from the entryway, “Baby, I’m home! I stopped at the store to pick up a slice of your favorite cake, because I know you’ve been needing some cheering up—”

You hear his steps halt as he sees you in the living room, bags and boxes filled to the brim with your stuff.

“Baby?” Daniel asks, “What’s this about? This is late for it to be spring cleaning.”

You shake your head, swallowing softly as you turn to meet his eyes, “I’m leaving, Daniel.”

“What?” Daniel says confused.

“Don’t make it any more difficult than it needs to be,” you start, unable to fight back your tears any longer, “Just let me get my stuff and leave.”

Daniel rushes to you, pulling you to look at him, holding your arms still when you try to push him away from you.

“You’ve got to give me more than that. You’re leaving—why? Is it something I did? Did I say something? How long have you felt like this? I could’ve—I can fix it, baby. Don’t leave me,” Daniel pleads, his own eyes radiating how hurt, confused, and disbelieving he feels, “I thought we were strong? We’re the closest to being perfect, I thought. We barely argue; and even when we do it’s resolved properly. I don’t yell, I don’t talk to other women, I don’t ignore your calls or messages, I’m not possessive, I’m not crazy–what can I do? For you to stay, what can I do?”

“Nothing, Daniel. You can’t change my mind. But—it’s not your fault, okay? It’s me,” you cry harder when Daniel scoffs at your response, “I’m serious, Danny. It’s my fault. I can’t take it anymore okay? You’re better off without me; I’m a distraction, I’m not as supportive as I should be, I’m not your type–you’d just perform and be happier without me, okay?”

“Fuck no,” Daniel emphasizes, “Who the hell is telling you that? Because I know you seriously don’t believe that. You’re the best thing to happen to me in my entire life, baby. You’re not a distraction, you support me tirelessly, and you sure as hell are my type. I can’t keep my hands off of you, you scold me all the time for that so, how can you say that ‘you’re not my type?’ I’m the happiest I’ve ever been with you, ask anybody, baby.”

You groan angrily, “Not anybody! Have you asked your fucking fans? They sure as hell think that I’m the devil reincarnated. I can’t do anything publicly without being verbally harassed for it. I can’t dress the way I want to, I can’t act the way I want to, and I can’t even go to work! Your little fangirls are affecting my career—and I can’t do it anymore. They’ve won. I can’t take the judgment anymore, not for me just existing. You’d be happier with your ex, just like they want you to be.”

You and Daniel stare at each other silently, the air tense.

“What do you mean,” Daniel pauses, his jaw tightening, “What do you mean they’re affecting your career?”

“They’re threatening to fire me because of my image. They’re saying I’m smearing the company's appearance,” you sigh out, picking at your cuticles anxiously. Daniel grabs your hands, stopping you.

“I’m going to kill them, baby–”

“Daniel!” you cut him off, aghast.

“No, I don’t care,” He dismisses, “The nerve of them to convince you that you’re not good enough for me. I should’ve kept asking you if you were bothered by the negative attention, but ever since you told me that you could handle it, I never checked in. And, I failed to see that it was getting worse. Worse enough to make you think that you need to leave to escape it. I’m going to embarrass those fans publicly and I’m going to get the team to back me up. As far as your job, I always hated them anyway. I never liked how they would deny your vacation time even though you had the days—you should quit.”

You stare at him deadpan, “Daniel Ricciardo. I’m not quitting my job and I am also still leaving.”

“Mhm, no,” Daniel scoffs hysterically, “You’re not breaking up with me. And, you would have a better reason to quit, if you stayed with me. I’ll retire you and make you my trophy wife, please. Seriously, babe. Don’t leave. I should’ve dealt with the fans earlier, I know—it’s my fault that it even reached this point. Please, just stay with me.”

“I don’t know,” you murmur, crumbling into tears again, “They all seem to think your ex is a better fit and…I think I agree with them.”

Daniel gathers you into his arms, tucking you into his shoulder, “Baby, I broke up with her for a reason. And, I’m glad I did. All of those chronically online fans have no clue about why I broke up with her. I couldn’t imagine going back into that relationship, especially now that I’ve found you. Let me prove it to you, baby.

You sob, “How are you going to prove anything to me right now? Can I just be dramatic for a little longer?”

He laughs, giddy at the sound of your usual antics, “Well, I am going to set the media on fire with the language I use to address how the world has been disrespecting you. But first, I’m going to take you to bed and remind you what you’d be missing out on if you left. What other man could learn to know you as intimately as I do, hm? C’mon, baby—let me prove it to you. Let your body decide.”

Leaning back to look at him through your tears, you think, fuck it, why not?

Daniel presses you into the bed; you whine out desperately when he breaks the kiss, your eyes focused on the plush warmth of his lips as you try to chase them. The eagerness of your actions only dawns on you as you see his lips shift into a smiling laugh then, the embarrassment washes over you; honestly, you think, you can’t act like you can’t live without having his lips touching yours—he might find your yearning repulsive. Did his ex act like this for him? What if that’s why he broke up with her—

“Heyheyhey—don’t hide from me, baby,” Daniel coos concerned, his hand gently coaxing you to turn your head and meet his eyes, you didn’t even notice when you moved to hide your face with the pillow; he continues, “Where’d you go just then, pretty girl? Please tell me, baby, don’t hold it in.”

You meet his troubled gaze, and the love and care you see pouring out causes fresh tears to dance across your waterline. Through your blurry sight, you see Daniel’s brow furrow saddeningly as he carefully pulls you up into a sitting position and holds you tightly as you cry into his shoulder. His left hand massages the back of your neck, and his right hand finds a calming rhythm as he rubs your back. Your tears taper out quicker, and you wonder if you’ve exhausted their supply from the crying you’ve done today.

You draw back from his embrace, wiping your cheeks with the back of your hand, and your voice shakes and cracks as you begin to speak, “I’ve never been this insecure about myself. I couldn’t give a single fuck about what people say or think about me. But, today? It was just too much, Danny. Seeing all of your fans tear down every aspect of me; my personality, my looks, my body—why? And, they’re doing it under the reasoning that, I’m not good for you. Like, you’re not a grown man, who can decide who he wants to date? I support you quietly and loudly and’ll do it forever, but that’s not enough for them. And, today, it felt like it would never be enough.

“So, when I saw them making signs, t-to…to encourage you to break up with me,” Daniel muffles a sound of hurt in his chest, “I was humiliated. I-I, didn’t want that sort of attention for you, they should be focused on your racing, not your undeserving girlfriend. And, I thought I’d make it easy for you and leave.”

“Baby, no…”

“You’re such a good boyfriend, Daniel. It would be so much easier for you to end this relationship and go back to your ex, or date some other girl that satisfies you and your fans—”

“Babe, no,” Daniel cuts you off, his tone hardened, “The only person that needs to be satisfied with you is me. And, I am. The opinions of those fucking idiots don’t matter to me, and they shouldn’t matter to you. Because that’s all they are: opinions, and they’re absolutely stupid opinions, at that. They’re comments have done the complete opposite of convincing me to leave you. They’ve shown me that I need to let you know how much I want you with me—they’ve made me realize that I need to let you know that I love you.”

Your eyes widen, your breath stuttering. It’s the first time, he’s said it. Daniel loves you.

Sobbing softly, you murmur, “I hope you’re not only saying those three words because you think it’s going to make me happy. Because, I do love you, too.”

Daniel laughs wetly. “I’m saying that I love you now because you need to know that. I would’ve preferred to say it under different circumstances but, it doesn’t change the fact that I’m ridiculously in love with you. And—fuck everybody who’s saying you’re not good enough for me. If anything, I’m not good enough for you. I haven’t even won you a trophy, yet.”

You stare at him in disbelief, “Shut the fuck up. You’re everything to me. You could be driving the slowest car on the grid and I would still be celebrating your last-place finishes like you’ve won the championship.”

Daniel stares at you silently and you nearly fear that you’ve broken him. He sighs out lovingly before, leaning down and pressing kisses across your entire face to wash away your tear tracks. He finishes with a barely there kiss to the tip of your nose and asks quietly, “Let me show you that I love you. I don’t think saying it is enough.”

You look at him. You find what you’re looking for because you agree, “Okay.”

Daniel perks up, “Okay?”

You nod, slowly sliding down to rest on your back against the bed like you were before. “Yes.”

Your boyfriend shifts to kneel in between your legs, his hands slipping beneath the hem of your sweater, and once he gets confirmation from you, he smoothly pulls it off of you, dropping it off the bedside. His hands spread across the expanse of your abdomen and move to rest on your waist as he buries himself in the length of your neck. He nips kisses and presses of tongue along your brown skin, surprising you often with the ache of teeth and suction to bloom bruises. When he slides downwards, he paints your collarbone and decolletage loosely, the irritated flesh only sends flares of pleasure across your nerves. Daniel huffs in frustration as the straps of your bra disrupt the smooth skin across your shoulders, and he pulls you upwards to arch into him as he slips his hand underneath to unclasp the closure. You’re brain comes online to help him remove the offending fabric as you shrug out of the straps and desperately fling the bra to a corner of the room you can’t care to look at.

Daniel hums thankfully and resumes tracing along your shoulder, down your arms, and to the bones of your wrists and tips of your fingers with gentle hands followed by his lips.

He swallows before speaking, “Whenever you’re splayed out so prettily underneath me, I forget how to act. The cloudy look in your eyes, your chest covered with my love, the muscles in your shoulders and arms relaxed and syrupy—so fuckin’ sexy, baby.”

You can’t find the words to respond to him because your entire body sings out when Daniel’s lips suction around your nipple. You feel his tongue swirl around, wetting it before his teeth join in and scrape softly against the sensitive bud. He releases you and even though your eyelids have fluttered shut at the feeling, you feel him watching you as your back rises off the bed and your head falls back. His hand finds its place right underneath your breasts, and he pushes you back down into the mattress and holds you there as he continues the assault of his lips on your chest. You can only cry out with every tug of his teeth, every suckle of his lips on the surrounding skin, whimpers choked down as his mouth ravages you entirely. Your hand flies to Daniel’s hair for purchase, and to press his head further into your chest, but he pulls away.

“Forgive me—but I love your chest, baby. I love how you let me take naps on them and play with my hair, I love the feeling of them in my hand, I love making you scream every time I play with them. And, you taught me that the only answer to ass versus boobs is both of them. Because, I would willingly suffocate in either of them, and all of you.”

Your chest heaves as you try to regain some air in your lungs, but Daniel doesn’t let you breathe for a second, “One day, I hope you let me fuck your pretty chest.”

Your mouth drops open, as you flounder for the air and words required to respond to his statement.

“Another time, though. May I take off your pants, baby? I need to fuck you.”

“Yesyes—please, hurry up,” you rush out, already moving to shimmy out of your bottoms, Daniel tugging them off roughly when they get caught around your ankles. The strength he uses slides you down the bed a little, and you can’t help but muffle a gasp underneath your hand.

He pulls your hand from your mouth in an instant, “No. Not tonight. I let you get away with hiding your sounds from me before, but I need to know how good I’m making you feel,” he pauses to press a kiss to the inside of your wrist and continues, “Be as loud as you want, love.”

You nod jerkily, and Daniel lowers your arm to rest against the bed carefully, before he shuffles down the bed, resting on his stomach and spreading your legs to drape along his shoulders. He starts with your right leg; nipping at the bone of your ankle before following with a soothing touch of his lips, and moving upwards, biting and kissing along the muscles of your calf, the inside of your knee. He slows when he reaches the plush meet of your thigh, taking his time biting the muscle and laving over the teeth marks he leaves with his tongue. He repeats the treatment along your left leg, ignoring how he can see the wetness dripping out of you, darkening the fabric of your panties.

“Love your legs, baby,” Daniel breaths shakily, “Calves, and thighs, muscle, and all plush skin. If I could choose how to go out, it would be in between them. Doesn’t matter if they’re around my waist, or my head—it’s fucking paradise, baby.”

Your thighs shudder as if they’ve heard his words, and Daniel notices immediately. His hands move to grasp them and let his thumbs dig into the fresh marks he’s added against your brown skin. You keen airily, your thighs attempting to shut, but Daniel’s hands keep you spread with little effort. He leans down and hides his smile by pressing his mouth to your panties. He proceeds to noisily kiss along your covered cunt, dragging his tongue and nose through the soaked fabric, humming amusedly when your hips buck down onto him, one of his hands shifting to press your pelvis to the mattress.

You’re mortified. Daniel’s pretty much making out with your cunt over your panties, and he seems to be enjoying it as much as you if the way his hips are rocking along the bed is any telling when you raise your head to stare down at him. His eyes shut as he loses himself between your legs; he looks blissed out and you drop your head back against the mattress, bringing your hand to tangle in the mess of his curls. He pulls away with a grunt and you tug at his hair annoyed, sitting up slightly to see what he stopped for—

His eyes are wild, drenched with lust. Daniel doesn’t waste time pulling your panties off, roughly tugging the fabric covering your cunt to the side, tucking it in the dip between your groin and thigh. You see his eyes roll back slightly at the sight of you before he shuts them and dives forward to bring his mouth down on your cunt. His tongue pushes inside of you sloppily and his nose makes sure your clit is always receiving attention. The only option you have is to choke on your moans and grasp for stability in his hair and the sheets of the bed. Your tummy undulates at the pleasure racketing up your spinal cord, it’s too much to process already. And in a split-second, Daniel’s tongue is exchanged for two of his fingers, your cunt thoroughly soaked with a mix of your wetness and his spit, and the stretch is mild, more of a welcomed soreness than pain. Daniel’s eyes open to watch your face closely, you’re too busy moaning to verbally assure him to continue, but he understands (the continuous desperate roll of your hips against his grasp is a helpful clue).

He massages his fingers into you rapidly, brushing along the sensitive wall along the top of your cunt—and it dawns on you very quickly that you are going to cum. He must see the realization wash over your face, or through the signs of your body, but he avoids your g-spot to scissor his fingers inside of you to stretch you out, a third joining the rest when you huff down at him angrily. The new stretch quiets you, loud whines and moans hushed for a moment as you savor the ache. Yet, you quickly hunger for more, unapproving of the sudden gentleness Daniel exhibits.

“Danny, please,” you cry, “C’mon—fuck me, already. ‘m gonna cum.”

He pulls his fingers from the grasp of your vagina and manhandles you onto your front, stomach flat against the bed. With firm hands, he pulls your hips upwards, one hand sliding down your back to deepen the arch and push your ass further out. The insecurity and shyness you had earlier have dissipated; you’d like to be fucked, now. You spread your knees wider and rock back even more.

“Fuck,” Daniel croaks out, and he rushes to grab a condom from the nightstand. You’re sure he’s relatively quick about the entire ordeal; of losing his pants, grabbing the condom, and rolling it on himself, but it feels like ages, and you can’t help but huff out angrily. Thankfully, you feel his left hand come back to rest on your ass and feel the head of his cock tap along your cunt.

Your hole parts for him prettily and Daniel sinks in smoothly, not stopping until your ass meets his hips. You whine softly, the ache of him finding a home within you will never lose its luster. Daniel shudders behind you, the grip of his hand on your ass shaking—his breathing heavy as it echoes around the room.

“Fuck,” Daniel moans again, “Love your cunt, pretty girl. Hot, wet, and tight,” he falls forward, and nuzzles into the hair at the nape of your neck, before pressing a kiss at the back of your neck, and rising again, “‘s so good…I-I can’t find the words right now.”

You giggle softly into the bed and Daniel takes the green light when you press back against him. He begins to thrust into you, hard enough to punch the breath out of your lungs. He’s never fucked you this forcefully before; his motions are erratic, yet somehow he’s nailing the spot inside of you with every other pass of his hips. The sound of your skin meeting manages to be hidden by the screams and moans you manage to release when you find enough air in your lungs. Daniel’s other hand wraps around your front and presses down on your pelvis, tightening your inner walls. And, your vision whites out.

Your legs give out and you feel yourself slouch into the mattress, but Daniel is quick to hold your hips up for you and continues to rail into you, not allowing you any respite. You can hear yourself babbling, but you can’t make out what you’re saying. The heat of Daniel’s chest radiates over your back and you feel his breath wash over your spine, his endearments and praise you hear but can’t understand as the pleasure has blinded your senses. What you can feel, is how his thrusts continue and don’t slow.

You regain control of your body when he rotates you onto your back, he only pulls out briefly while he grabs a pillow to shove underneath your hips before he falls back inside of you. At this angle, Daniel feels larger than life, knocking against buttons inside of you you’re sure he’s only ever discovered. It’s too much. He fucks into you slowly, the press of his cock slow but strong, the motion pushing you up the bed slightly.

You gasp, moans erupting out of you when you attempt to speak. You manage to keep your eyes open long enough to look at Daniel and see the pleased smile on his face. He moves one hand from your hip to cradle your cheek and swipes a tear that escaped from the corner of your eye away.

“Oh,” Daniel hushes you softly, “Gone for me already, aren’t you?”

“T-t-oo much,” you stutter, tongue feeling heavy in your mouth, “ feels s’good.”

He chuckles quietly, the noise fading into a moan as your cunt clenches around him, “Too much or it feels good, pretty girl? You’re going to have to pick one.”

Daniel’s thrusts get rougher, and he stops pulling out nearly all the way and focuses on digging into you deeper; making sure to drag himself along that place inside you with every thrust. Your scream breaks as soon as it leaves your mouth, the unyielding stimulation feels white hot. You take a shaky hand and drag it down Daniel’s chest, from his tattoos to his abdomen, and push against him while simultaneously trying to raise your hips away from his.

“No, baby,” Daniel coos down at you, knocking your hand away from his abs, and continuing to press inside of you, pulling your hips down, “Don’t run from me. Take it. You know what to say if it’s too much for you.”

You do know what to say. But, the knot inside your tummy starts tightening again, and the overwhelming amount of pleasure isn’t too much. You can take it. Daniel rocks down to kiss you, but you’re too out of it to exactly figure out how to make your lips work, and his eyes shine. He moves to bite at your neck, you feel him speaking against your skin and it takes a few listens to realize he saying, “I love you,” over and over again. His thrusts get choppier and you know he’s close when his hand slips down to play with your clit. This orgasm feels different than the first. It feels like it burns your nerve endings with just how powerfully pleasurable it is. You can vaguely feel Daniel collapse against you as he rides out his climax, but you’re more concerned with the absolute ecstasy you find yourself floating in.

You blink a few times and you fail to adequately process what’s going on around you. You feel Daniel pull out of you, rubbing soothingly along your hips and thighs as he massages any soreness away. You can’t make out his words, but they sound warm and loving making you feel light and fluffy. You don’t recall him moving from the bed, but he suddenly has a warm rag pressed against your inner thighs to clean you up, and your ruined panties are gone. When he tries to wipe against your cunt, you slam your legs shut, jerking away from him. He doesn’t force your legs back open, but he eventually manages to clean up enough of your wetness that he’s comfortable to wait until you’re clear-minded.

Daniel pulls you onto his lap and continues murmuring words of affection into the air, you feel them vibrate through his chest. You begin to rise out of whatever state you were in and shift in his lap, “Danny,” you try to speak, but your voice cracks roughly. He’s quick to grab a bottle of water on the nightstand and opens it for you, helping you drink as your arms are still too shaky.

“When did you grab the water?” you question softly, you down nearly the entire bottle, and move to snuggle back into his chest, bringing your shaky hand up to trace his tattoos.

“You don’t remember?” Daniel questions calmly, watching as you shake your head in dissent, “I think you were a little out of it after that orgasm. You melted into the bed—I couldn’t get you to say anything.”

“Oh,” you offer, looking up at him to read his face. You find nothing but love, so you figure it can’t be a bad thing.

“Do you know what subspace is?”

“No?”

Daniel nods understandingly and changes the subject, “I got this piece of cake for you earlier at the store. Can you eat it for me now and drink a little more water, baby? I’ll put on that crime show you like too.”

You agree to eat and drink as long as Daniel does too. Your hand shakes as you try to bring the fork to your mouth so you let Daniel feed you, he seems more than happy to do it for you. You kind of like it anyway, him taking care of you. You feel like your normal self halfway through the second episode of the show playing on the TV. You slide off of Daniel’s lap to sit beside him and focus on the show, pulling the blanket up to cover your legs, the plot of the show finally being processed by your brain.

“I’m going to go grab something from the living room, okay?” Daniel checks in on you, waiting for you to answer affirmatively, “Finish up that cake for me, love.”

You hum, grabbing the container from him and continuing to munch along as Daniel does what he needs to. He reenters the room with one of the boxes you had packed away. Daniel doesn’t look at you, he just opens up the box and starts putting all your belongings back to where they used to be. He pulls one of your heavier sweaters out of the box and moves to hang it up in the closet.

“No,” you say, voice scratchy. You watch Daniel turn to face you slowly like he thinks you’re going to tell him that you’re still leaving,

“That sweater doesn’t belong in the closet. It gets folded and placed in the bottom row of the dresser.”

Daniel sighs relieved and smiles at you, “Okay. What about this one too, where does that go?”

taglist: @saintslewis @cherry2stems @lorrari @inloveallthetime @mindless-rock @biancathecool @barnestatic @my-ylenia @katekipshidze @darleneslane @lovingaphroditesworld @smoothopz @vetteltea @tallrock35 @iloveyou3000morgan @smartstupyd @spideybv28 @lh383 @loomiscorpse @hiireadstuff @namgification @gg-trini @whatamidoingwithmylife-ramdom @multi-fandom-rando @sweatrevenge5436-blog @bokutos-babyowl @oliviah-25 @landoslutmeout @love-simon

#serene’s chapters.#httpss :// 2k special #f1 x reader #daniel ricciardo x reader #f1 smut #daniel ricciardo smut #f1 x black!reader #f1 x female reader #daniel ricciardo x black!reader #daniel ricciardo fic #daniel ricciardo imagine #f1 x you #formula 1 x black!reader #f1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #daniel ricciardo x you #♡ ༘*.ﾟ love interest: dr.

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pick-me-up-im-scared · 2 days

Text

Call Me When You Need Me (Ellie Williams x Reader) (Fluff)

Short Summary: When your best friend Ellie has problem sleeping you come over to help her. Like you always do!

Author´s Note: Another random idea I got that I thought would be waaay shorter. It´s not that long, but it's longER than I planned to. Istg, the universe wants me to write +5k fanfics. Everythime I come up with an idea for a blur (cause they're way quicker to write) I end up adding so much to it you can't even call it that. Anyway, hope you'll enjoy just a super cute little story! (I'm the person who tries to fill the "ellie x reader"-tag with stuff that isn't smut. Like I didn't just post two smuts right after each other a week ago.................)

Also! Ellie lives in the same house as Joel in this. Even though I'm well aware she has her own "hut" in the game

Words: 1473

(Pictures aren´t mine! I found them on Pinterest)

The empty streets felt oddly peaceful as you wandered down the oh, so familiar road. Only the streetlights lighting up your path as your sleepy feet stumbled on the sidewalk. It wasn’t unusual to find you walking down these streets at 3 am. You found yourself in this situation a little too often. Not that you complain! When your best friend needs you, she needs you. The crispy night air forced you to cross your arms in order to keep some warmth. Despite being near fall you decided to skip out on a jacket and just go with your outwashed hoodie. Big mistake. But it’s not that bad. Though you’d lie if you´d say you didn’t miss your warm, cozy bed. Just the thought was enough to put a drowsy smile on your face. You continued to kick rocks you stumbled upon on the sidewalk as you, trying to not hit any of the parked cars beside you, cause you know.......karma. Soon you noticed the familiar fence you helped painting white one summer. By the looks of it, it could use a little touch-up. Getting onto the lawn you quickly made your way to the back. The house was completely pitch black apart from one single window on the right corner.

You walked over to the corner of the porch, making sure to sneak a few glances through the dark windows, just to make sure Joel wasn’t up to grab a glass of water or something. But you’re just met with your own reflection in the surprisingly clean windows. You jumped up on the fence that tastefully decorated the porch to reach the edge of the roof. You took a sturdy grip around the aged wood before pushing yourself up the brick plated surface. This was nothing new to you. It was more of a routine. Getting called over to your friends house at least five times a week you kinda start to come up with a few tricks to make your arrival more smooth. Why are you climbing the house like you're a fucking monkey? you may as. The first time Ellie called me over you both thought Joel would be pissed if he knew. So you came up with the brilliant idea, with your life at risk, to climb up from the back. Yes, Ellie tired to prevent you from doing it, but you're too stubborn. She knows that damn well. And yes, you're pretty sure you've got a six-pack from all the times you've pushed your whole body onto the porch roof. But by the morning neither of you considered Joel's daily visit. So when he came to tell Ellie it's breakfast he was sure surprised to see you laying there, holding her. But he wasn't mad.....not at all. And when it was time for you to leave he made sure to throw out "You can take the door next time!". Despite that you continued to take your not-so-convenient way into Ellie's room. You saw it more as a fun thing, and you like to believe Ellie enjoys to too. Even thought she mumbled a "You're so dumb" before giving you a welcome hug.

You carfully got up from your crunched up position, being careful not to strainght out your back too much or you'll probably fall down and break your neck. At this height you could outline more details in the only lit up room, as if you didn’t know it by memory. You noticed the small crack Ellie always made sure to leave every night incase she got the urge that’s currently the reason you’re here. She didn’t want to have to get up and open it when you got there. Also, she’s been very clear that you can come over whenever you feel like it. Day as night. You used your finger to loop around the thick glass and push it up enough to give you the opportunity to get a better grip. You slid the glass into the slit, just enough to squeeze yourself through. The noice made Ellie quickly turn her head from her position on her bed. Just the look of you made her smile. "You came!" she happily exclaimed. You giggled "Of course! You said you had problem sleeping”.

Your beaten up sneakers barely got to touch the floor before Ellie threw herself at you, slamming you into the nearby wall. She continued to hug you, tighten up her grip. You chuckled, "Hey, hey! You shouldn't try to mush me like ground beef. Who´s gonna keep you company then?". Ellie let go off you and took a step back, giving you the chance to get away from the wall. "I'm sure you can take it" she snarky remarked "Weren't you the one who's got a six-pack" she sarcastically asked while slapping her hand against your clothed stomach. "Ow!" you screaked while backing way from her hand. Ellie just chucked before making her way back to her bed, signaling you to take place beside her. You let the strap of your backpack slide down your arms before leaving it by the end of Ellie's bed, to then quickly kick off your lazy tied shoes before crawling up the comfy bed.

You let out a deep sigh as your back hit the mattress, "I´ve told you to just call me whenever you need me". "I know" Ellie mumbled before looking to the side, "But you deserve to sleep too". "I never sleep as good as I do in your bed" you reassured her as. She smiled a little, but she wasn't convinced. She's tried to fall asleep by herself when she has one of these...nights, but it's impossible! There's been times where she hasn't called you even thought she should have. Just cause she feels bad for forcing you out of bed. She never told you this or you'd kill her. She's lost count of all the times you've told her to just call you when she feels down or can't sleep.

You place your hands behind your head, looking up at the glow-in-the-dark stickers Ellie swore she'd get rid off, but hasn't "had the time to". But you swore she was lying. She's always been such a bad liar. But you think it's adorable, so you don´t mind. "I swear I'm getting us a house someday. That way you wouldn't have to call me whenever you have problem sleeping", Ellie smirked at you. "Yeah?" she asked while shooting herself closer to your laying from. "Yep! Then you could just come over to my room" you frowned a little "Or we might share the same bedroom...". You shrug "Or I mean, we're sleeping in the same bed now, so we could save a lot of money if we just get one". Ellie smiled at the thought but soon her face fell a little "How would that work when you bring a girl over?". You shot your head to give her a confused face "What the fuck, Ellie?" you grabbed a pillow from behind you to hit her playfully "I don´t even bring that many girls over!". "Suuure" Ellie playfully rolled her eyes while wearing that shit-eating grin.

You huffed before pushing her back against the bed so you could straddle her. Ellie had to stop herself from blushing at the sudden contact, but she's pretty sure you'd still notice if you weren't busy continuing hitting her with the pillow. You giggle "You play me out to be some type of slut!". She just shrugged "Maybe you are". You huffed once more, louder this time, before getting off Ellie's lap with a defeated look. "Fuck you, Ellie" you mumbled before throwing the pillow at her. She just laughs as she catches it and put it back to its original place. "Should we get to bed now? You know, the reason I'm here?". "Oh!" Ellie quickly adjusted herself "Yeah, that'd be nice". You grabbed the cover that was messily tossed to the side and placed it over you to. "You want me to read you a bed time story?". Ellie laughed "Fuck you, (y/n)". You smirked as you reached over her to turn off the lamp on her beside table. The feeling of your body being pressed against her made it hard for Ellie to focus, but thank god you soon got back to your previous position behind her.

You wrapped your arms around her frame before pulling her into your embrace. Transferring your warmth onto her. “You don’t have to come here every time, you know?” Ellie clarified. “No, I know” you answered “But I want to” you added before burring your face in the nape of her neck, automatically squeeze her torso a little tighter. Ellie couldn’t help but release a relaxed sigh, finally at peace.

#ellie x reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams #tlou ellie #ellie williams tlou #tlou #the last of us #tlou2 #the last of us part two #ellie x reader fluff

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chosolala · 1 day

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𐙚 ⋆˚｡⋆ jjk pet headcannons

here are my headcannons on what pets i think the jujutsu kaisen characters would have, and yes i know they probably wouldn’t have time for pets or anything like that while being a jujutsu sorcerer but let a girl dream :]

characters: gojo, geto, nanami, choso, higuruma, kusakabe, toji

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

satoru gojo

i feel like he would have a really ugly pet but that pet is literally his whole world

he would spoil TF out of it

he has like a lizard or a snake or something

some kind of reptile i’m sorry

if u don’t like this pet expect him to chase you around his house with it

his pet is named after a digimon

suguru geto

he gives me big dog vibes idk why

like he probably has a huge rottweiler or something

and this dog loves him so much, whenever you come over he is always following geto around, sitting near him, laying next to him, all that

geto loves his dog definitely but he never talks about the thing, like you wouldn’t even know he has a dog until you see it for yourself

kento nanami

he would probably prefer not to have any animals in his home, the most i see him having is a really nice and fancy looking fish tank

he doesn’t really acknowledge it either, like he doesn’t talk about it he just likes how it looks in his living space

the decor is very nice in there, those fish have a nice home

choso kamo

i feel like he would have a cat that just followed him home one day and he decided to keep it

a small black cat that he treats like his baby

he definitely has a huge soft spot for this cat

he definitely uses a baby voice when he talks to his cat

they sleep together in the same bed

hiromi higuruma

this man does NOT need a pet adding more stress to his life

if he did have a pet it’d probably be like a turtle that he forgets about occasionally

he definitely doesn’t keep it for long because he feels bad that he can’t give this little guy a good life

atsuya kusakabe

he probably has like a crusty white dog or a really ugly chihuahua that he’s had for years

like this dog has been alive for an ungodly amount of time

he is literally expecting this dog to drop dead any day now

his dog is an ankle biter and even bites kusakabe occasionally

toji fushiguro

this man didn’t even stick around to raise his son what makes you think he’s making time for a pet??

i’m jk but like i don’t think he’d keep a pet that’s very high maintenance either, i feel like he’d actually have a super unconventional pet like a crab or a snail

he probably forgets about it too sometimes

he thinks about eating it when times are rough

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alottiegoingon · 3 days

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but i'm a cheerleader

jackie taylor x fem!reader

summary: where reader is a cheerleader and jackie taylor is the football captain

warnings: jackie being too obvious and reader too oblivious, characters are aged up, 90's but no homophobia cause its pride month and bc i can, really cheesy and lots of fluff, not proofread

a year ago, when you made the decision to try out for the cheerleading team, you had no inkling of the repercussions that would follow. you were uncertain if cheerleading was the right thing for you, especially considering the many sexist comments aimed at the girls. yet, it would look quite good on your college application.

neither extremely popular nor a complete loner, you were content with your close-knit group of friends. however, everything shifted once you joined the team. suddenly, you found yourself the center of attention in the hallways, drawing looks of both amusement and envy, a situation you still hadn't fully adjusted to.

one person in particular seemed more entranced by you: jackie taylor. the football team captain constantly had her eyes on you. no matter where you were—be it the cafeteria, by your locker in the morning, or during class—you would eventually see her watching you, prompting you to quickly look away after making eye contact.

thinking it couldn’t get any worse, you were stunned to find jackie gazing at you from the bleachers during cheerleading practice. you nearly caused the entire pyramid of girls to collapse, resulting in numerous angry stares from the others and a lecture from the coach.

you were starting to suspect that there was something wrong with your face!

⚽︎

"this is getting really weird, i swear, tai," you blurt out as soon as you sit down beside your friend at lunch. after setting your tray on the table, you take a sip of orange juice and tune into your friends' discussion.

"you're overthinking it," your friend, van, steps in, swiping an apple from your tray, "it's jackie. she's harmless."

"right! except every time i look at her, she's staring right back at me. maybe she just hates me," you reply, trying to retrieve your apple but getting a slap on your hand instead.

"hate you?" lottie scoffs, "she's like butt-crazy for you. i bet she writes your name with hearts all around it. no wonder she's terrible at french."

that was an actual good argument. jackie was really bad and hearing her attemps of speaking french was torture. still, it would make absolute zero sense. jackie taylor was popular, stunning and smart and the fact that she was the captain only added to that. she was probably memorizing your flaws to make fun of you with her friends.

⚽︎

seeing your coach step onto the field with coach martinez, the one in charge of your friend’s, and jackie’s, football team, made your heart sink. you’d experienced this before, back when the schedule became so tight that they had to combine cheerleaders and jocks.

a really, really, really bad idea.

the field was huge, yet it still felt too small to avoid jackie’s piercing glare. the worst part wasn’t your constant stumbling and tripping over your own feet and the others', but the relentless urge to look back at her.

from the other side of the field, the girls’ taunts directed at jackie reached your ears, and you knew it was because of you. you weren't the only one to notice her stares.

“careful not to slip, jackie,” van teased, their breathy and tired voice not hindering them from poking fun while playing on opposite teams for practice. she chased jackie, trying to swipe the ball while gesturing to the ground.

“what? where?” jackie stopped and looked down, not wanting to slip in front of you, giving van just enough time to snatch the ball.

“on your own drool,” their joke made the entire team laugh, and even from a distance, you could see jackie’s face turn red, speechless.

what a dweeb, you thought, even if you were also smiling at the oddly funny moment moment.

⚽︎

despite all the teasing and awkward moments, you couldn't deny that jackie's constant attention was doing a number on your nerves. you couldn't decide if you liked it or not, if she hated you or not, if you should confront her or not. one way or another, she wasn't discreet at all.

in the very next saturday, your phone rang with tai's voice, inviting to a party. you hesitated for a moment, maybe a party was just what you needed to get your mind off things but, at the same time, it would be too naive of you to imagine that the thing you were fighting to avoid wasn't going to be in there as well

as you arrived at the place, you noticed the usual crowd already mingling. music blared, voices echoed, and the familiar scent of pizza, soda and alcohol filled the air. a very weird mix, you'd say.

you tried to relax, but your eyes instinctively scanned the room, searching for jackie. it didn't take long to find her. she was in the corner with a group of friends, a jacket draped over her shoulder and a pretty dress catching your eye. but you didn't want to cross her way, at least not now.

"someone's looking at you," lottie's voice linger in your ears, scaring you away from all the jackie taylor's thoughts inside your head.

"hi, lot," you ignore her words, not daring to look in the opposite direction, "i don't know what you're talking about."

"oh, come on, don't be so boring. jackie’s been staring at you all night."

you rolled your eyes, trying to focus on your drink and the conversation around you, but the weight of jackie's gaze was impossible to ignore. you stole a glance in her direction, only to find her quickly looking away, her cheeks tinged with a faint blush.

"seriously, what's her deal?" you muttered, more to yourself than anyone else.

lottie chuckles, "she likes you, duh. everyone knows it except you."

before you could respond, your other friends joined your little circle, a mischievous glint in their eyes. "so, are you finally going to talk to her or just keep pretending you don’t notice her staring?"

you sighed, feeling cornered. "I don't know. what if she hates me?"

"you are so complicated," tai groans, arm resting over van's shoulder, "just go find out!"

with a deep breath, you decided to take their advice. you just had to be confident.

instead of walking straight to jackie, you made your way over to the drinks table, trying to appear casual. she was close by and you figured grabbing a drink might be a discreet way to approach her. if it was too awkward, another word for 'if you were too much of a coward, you could just back off.

as you reached for a cup, your hands shook slightly. not only you had accidentally knocked over a few cups but also spilled soda all over the counter and the floor. the noise drew everyone's attention, including hers.

great, you thought, just what you needed.

before you could react, jackie stepped in, grabbing some napkins to help you clean up. her proximity made your heart race even more.

"you okay?" she asked, her voice gentle and concerned, wiping the counter around you. at least she wasn't judging you.

"yeah, thanks," you mumbled, feeling your cheeks burn. you could barely talk or breath at that moment, too stunned it even took you an extra second to help her clean up your mess.

noticing your jitter, as you both cleaned up, jackie glanced at you. "this party's pretty wild, huh?"

you offer her a nervous grin as she hands you a clean cup. "right, i guess people really like the weekends."

"absolutely. and they're probably too stressed with ms. jamison class. four pages in a day? that woman crazy," jackie's gaze softened as she glanced at you, attempting to ease the tension between you.

"what about her hair? she looks like she's stuck in the 70's," you added, feeling a peculiar flutter in your stomach as a tender giggle escaped from her lips.

the two of you stood there, the awkwardness lingering in the air like a heavy fog as the sound of your laughter slowly faded into silence.

"i gotta say, though, this wasn't what i had in mind when i decided to come here tonight," you admit, reaching a hand to grab a drink, being much more careful this time.

she looked up, her eyes locking onto yours. "and what was your plan?"

you hesitated for a moment, then blurted out,"honestly? trying to dodge you and those pretty eyes of yours that seem to follow me everywhere."

a look of surprise flashed across jackie's face, her eyebrows shooting up and her eyes widening briefly before she couldn't hold back a snicker.

"it's not funny, jackie," you interrupted her giggle,"why do you keep staring at me all the time? do you hate me or what?"

as your confusion amused her further, her grin widened. could she be any more obvious? "hate you? no, not at all. It's the opposite, actually."

you frowned, puzzled. "what do you mean?"

drawing nearer, jackie's gaze held an earnestness that sent a flutter through your chest. "i like you. a lot," you stole a glance downwards, observing her fingers twisting nervously. she seemed as jittery as you now. "i just didn't know how to tell you. and I guess I was too scared to find out if you felt the same."

her confession left you at a loss for words for a moment, this wasn't something you had prepared for. "so, you... like me?"

jackie nodded, a shy smile tugging at her lips. "yeah, i do. i thought i was being clear about that."

it all fell into place in an instant—the lingering looks, the nervousness, the way she seemed to be everywhere you were. feeling a warmth spread through you, you couldn't help but smile back. "i gotta say, that explains a lot."

jackie's laughter echoed softly, easing the tension in the room. "sorry, i just didn't know how to handle it."

you paused for a moment, gathering your thoughts. confident enough, you spoke up, "maybe we can figure it out together."

jackie's eyes lit up with enthusiasm. "i'd really like that."

#i love her shes so silly #yellowjackets #yellowjackets x reader #jackie taylor x reader

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