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#and i really don’t want to think like that i don’t want to do anything like that
babygazette · 2 days
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📠 📰 ────────*𑁍༘⋆ ────────
dealer!rafe had to make a lot of changes to his life since ward kicked him out. if there’s one sacrifice that rafe hates, it’s having trailerbunny!reader cut his hair instead of a professional barber. you, a trainee at a dingy salon, doing his hair. who the fuck knew that haircuts were so expensive? not rafe, when he was rich at least.
rafe sits outside on a dainty chair (that you might have snatched from someone’s sidewalk) a towel around his neck while you carefully trim off his bangs. “you do know what you’re doing, yeah? like you’re not gonna mess up my hair? —cause i can’t go out with fuckin’ lopsided hair and i don’t wanna hear you whinin’ either when you’re the one who messed it up.” he scolds you, trying to eye your actions, staying very still to not make you fuck it up even more.
“m’not gonna mess it up.” you promise to him, tongue peaking out a bit in concentration. rafe clearly doesn’t believe you and rolls his eyes, “heard that before.” hinting at the first time you cut rafe’s hair which was a disaster. let’s just say he was really pissed off and had to wear hats for a couple of weeks.
“that was my first, rafe, it’s different. stop worrying, i’m a professional!” you retorted, tired of hearing his anxious complaints while you work all around his hair. “in training.” rafe adds behind your sentence, not amused one bit, he doesn’t like how fast your scissors are moving back there.
“slow the fuck down before you chop it all up, i swear— kid.” he’s close to snatching that thing out of your hand because he’s not liking how much control he doesn’t have. thankfully for him and you, you’re already done. you make some final touches before stepping back to admire your work.
“all done!” you beam happily, clapping your hands in satisfaction. rafe can’t trust you just yet. you hand him your pretty hand-held mirror for him to look at your masterpiece, smiling from ear to ear in anticipation.
rafe’s expression changes instantly when he looks at the mirror. his eyebrows raised for a second in shock before he begins nodding as he looks at his hair from all angles. “i.. you did good, bun. this is— yeah, this is real nice.” you were over the moon at the fact that rafe was actually complimenting your work.
“think you deserve a reward for this, baby. let’s go— let’s go get you something.” rafe takes off the towel and dusts any hairs off him. he get up from the uncomfortable metal chair, giving you a kiss as a thank you, before guiding you by the waist to buy you anything you wanted with his drug money <3
little did rafe know that letting you cut his hair would actually be even more expensive because of the way he spoils you after.
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alexias-putellas · 1 day
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centre of attention // a.bonmatí x reader
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a.bonmatí x reader
based on this request! wanted to get something out for you guys so voila. not proofread as per usual
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despite being named as one of the greatest of your generation, you were incredibly humble. you always credited others before yourself, always mentioning the person who gave the assist whenever asked about a goal you scored in post match interviews.
most people assumed it was because of how genuinely nice of a person you were and how much you adored your teammates, which was true, but really it was because you absolutely loathed being the centre of attention and this fact was known by your club and country teammates—who made it their mission to tease you about it to no end.
your girlfriend however never took part in it so you were thankful that you had at least one person on your side. of course she poked a little bit of fun at your shyness but aitana knew when to stop.
so when you walked up to take a corner during a game, booted it with all your might and accidentally curled it straight into the top corner securing your hattrick, you wanted nothing more than for the ground to swallow you up.
but that couldn’t happen so you plastered a smile onto your face and approached your celebrating teammates. their grins almost made you scowl and you took their congratulatory comments in jest, knowing that they were holding back until after the game.
“buen trabajo.” aitana whispered to you and the smile that grew on your face was a genuine one.
“gracias, my love.”
barcelona won the game and since you were subbed off not long after the corner, you were wrapped up in a big puffer jacket as you made your way back onto the pitch. you headed straight for your girlfriend, throwing your arms around her.
“here she is!” lucy shouted before her arms were around your waist and she lifted you up. “little miss hattrick!”
“oh my god! lucia roberta, put me down now!” you hissed loudly, your face growing warmer with every laughing teammate you passed.
as soon as your feet touched the ground again, you shot straight over to aitana, tucking yourself into her side whilst glaring at lucy.
“i think you are wanted over there cariño.” aitana pointed over her shoulder and you groaned.
“oh, aita, no! don’t make me go over there.”
your girlfriend giggled before gently pushing you in the direction of the interviewer. you greeted her politely and took the outstretched microphone.
“what a game that was!” she said and you nodded in agreement. “barcelona have been unstoppable this season, it’s incredible.”
“i know. the girls have been amazing, it’s such an honour to play alongside them all. we’re having so much at the moment with each other and with the fans and we can’t wait to get more results like this for them.”
“before we do anything else, we have to talk about the hattrick, right? we have to.”
you felt your face heat up and smiled shyly. “i don’t think we have to–“
“of course we do!” the interviewer laughed as you scrunched up your nose. “oh we have another guest!”
you made a noise of confusion before looking over your shoulder, beaming at an approaching aitana. she smiled and stood next to you, holding something out.
“for you,” she said and you furrowed your eyebrows, looking down at her hands. “player of the match!”
you rolled your eyes fondly but took it from her hands, feeling the heat on your face worsen. the far sound of your teammates cheering had you hiding in the collar of your coat and the interviewer was laughing again. “well deserved if you ask me.”
“exactly,” aitana agreed, throwing her arm over your shoulder. “nobody else scored a hattrick, did they? and did you see that last goal? asombrosa, tan asombrosa.”
you didn’t think it was possible for your face to get any hotter than it already was as aitana praised you. taking a peek, you scowled as she grinned at you.
“and she had two assists,” your girlfriend continued and you silently prayed for the ground to swallow you up. “two assists, three goals, and she was all over the pitch. we can talk about that corner goal again if you want.”
you shook your head frantically as aitana laughed, feeling utterly grateful when the interviewer spoke up again. “well it was lovely to speak with you ladies. congratulations on a great win and we’ll let you celebrate now.”
“gracias, gracias,” you spluttered out, waving quickly before shooting out of the cameras view. aitana was quick to follow after saying her own goodbye and you were quick to shove her away. “i should kill you with this aita!”
“but you won’t amor.”
“i should,” you muttered, glaring at her halfheartedly. “but you’re right. i won’t.”
aitana smiled and wrapped her arm around you again, pulling you into her side. “you know you are really cute when you are shy.”
“cállate or i really will kill you with this.”
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pucksandpower · 2 days
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MILF
Toto Wolff x wife!Reader
Summary: Toto knows his wife is a MILF … but this doesn’t mean he is okay with his son’s friends calling you that
Warnings: teenage boys doing teenage boy things
Based on this request
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“Pass the schnitzel, darling,” you say to your husband as the three of you sit down for dinner. Your teenage son has just gotten home from school, and you can’t wait to hear about his day.
Toto smiles at you as he passes the platter of breaded veal. “How was school?” He asks.
Lukas shrugs as he takes a bite. “It was okay,” he mumbles through a mouthful of food.
You give him a look. “Don’t talk with your mouth full, sweetie,” you gently chide. Even though he’s almost an adult now, you still see your little boy in him.
Lukas swallows and straightens up. “Sorry, Mum.”
“So tell us about your day,” you prompt. “Learn anything new and interesting?”
Your son fidgets in his seat. “Well … some of the guys were talking about you today.”
You raise your eyebrows in surprise. “Me? What about me?”
Lukas glances uncomfortably at his father. “Just … stuff they saw online. Paparazzi photos from when we were on the yacht last month.”
Toto sets his fork down, his expression darkening. He’s no stranger to being in the public eye, but he’s always been protective of you and Lukas. “What exactly were they saying?” He asks in a carefully neutral tone.
“They, uh …” Lukas rubs the back of his neck. “They called Mom a MILF.”
“A what?” Toto sputters, while you have to suppress a laugh. You’re familiar with the crude term, given your substantially younger age compared to your husband.
“It’s not funny!” Toto says indignantly. “I won’t have people objectifying my wife like that.”
You reach over and pat his arm. “It’s okay, dear. I’m not bothered by it.” You turn back to Lukas with an amused smile. “I’m flattered those boys think your old mom’s still got it.”
“You’re not old!” Lukas protests loyally. “It’s just, you know, you’re a lot younger than Vati, and you’re really pretty, so the guys notice.”
Toto scowls, but you grin and blow your son a kiss. “Thanks, sweetie.” Your playful reaction seems to visibly relax him.
“This is unacceptable,” Toto shakes his head. “I should call the school. Get those little punks suspended for sexual harassment.”
“Oh Toto, don’t be silly,” you wave dismissively. “They’re just teenage boys. I’m sure they didn’t mean any harm.”
“It doesn’t matter!” He insists. “Your dignity and privacy should be respected, not exploited. People think because we’re in the spotlight that they can say whatever vulgar nonsense they want.”
You reach over again and lace your fingers through his, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “I know it bothers you, darling. But I married you knowing full well how public our lives would be. A little crude gossip comes with the territory.”
Toto opens his mouth to retort, then pauses, some of the indignation leaving his eyes. “I just don’t want anyone disrespecting you,” he says finally.
You smile softly. Even after all these years of marriage, your heart still flutters at his protectiveness. “I know. It’s one of the many things I love about you.”
Lukas makes a face. “Ugh, gross. Can you guys not be all mushy right now?”
You laugh and blow him another kiss. “Sorry Lukas. I can’t help it — your father’s the love of my life.”
Toto smiles back at you, the anger fading from his face. “And you’re mine, schatzi.”
Your son pretends to gag. “Seriously, stop. I’m trying to eat here.”
You chuckle and spear another bite of schnitzel. “Alright, we’ll behave. Now, tell me more about the rest of your day ...”
The conversation moves on to lighter topics as you finish up dinner. You listen attentively while Lukas fills you in on the drama with his friend group and his struggles in history class.
After clearing the dishes, the three of you move to the living room. You curl up next to Toto on the couch while Lukas sprawls out on the carpet to play video games.
You close your eyes contentedly and rest your head on your husband’s shoulder. Despite the lifestyle that being married to Toto provides you with, this right here is your happy place — your little family, spending a quiet evening at home.
Toto wraps an arm around you and presses a soft kiss to your temple. “Have I told you lately how lucky I am?” He murmurs.
You smile up at him. “Even after all these years, you still give me butterflies.”
“Good,” he says firmly. “I’ll tell you every day if I have to, until you’re sick of hearing it.”
Lukas groans loudly from the floor. “Could you guys be any more embarrassing?”
You and Toto both laugh. “What? I can’t tell my beautiful wife how much I love her?” He calls out in protest.
“Not when I’m right here!” Lukas complains. “Get a room or something.”
You grin mischievously. “That’s not a bad idea ...” you say, running a hand up your husband’s chest.
Toto’s eyes darken. “Minx,” he murmurs.
Lukas scrambles to his feet. “Okay, I’m out of here.” He gives you both a look of exaggerated disgust as he heads upstairs.
You and Toto chuckle as you listen to his bedroom door slam shut.
“Now, where were we?” Toto says in a low voice, pulling you closer. You bite your lip coyly as he presses his mouth to yours. No matter how many years go by, the chemistry between you is still electric.
You shift against him eagerly as the kiss deepens. His hands slide down to grip your hips, and you make a soft noise of pleasure. After nearly two decades of marriage, he knows exactly how to touch you.
“Tell me again,” you whisper when you finally break apart, slightly breathless.
Toto gazes into your eyes. “I love you,” he says sincerely. “I will always love you. Meeting you was the best thing that ever happened to me.”
You kiss him again, tenderly this time. “I love you too, Toto. Forever.”
No matter what people say or how famous you become, your relationship has always been grounded in this — the unwavering love between you. The rest of the world falls away when you’re together.
You rest your head contentedly on his shoulder again, his arms wrapped around you. This right here, next to the man who still looks at you like you hung the moon, is home.
***
The next day after school, Lukas comes home with a few of his friends in tow. You’re just finishing up putting away the groceries when you hear the chatter of teenage voices approaching.
“Hey Mum, we’re gonna hang out downstairs,” Lukas calls out as the group of boys raids the kitchen fridge for snacks.
You smile and give them a little wave. “Hi boys. There’s more drinks in the pantry if you need it.”
The teenagers rumble acknowledgements through mouthfuls of food before thundering downstairs to your home theater room. You chuckle and shake your head. Teenage appetites are truly a phenomenon.
You’re straightening up the living room when you hear the front door open again, signaling Toto’s return from work.
“Hello, liebling,” he greets you warmly, sweeping you into an embrace.
You kiss him in welcome. “How was work today?”
“The usual madness,” he sighs. “But coming home to you makes it all worthwhile.”
You smile up at him adoringly. Even after all these years, your heart still flutters at his smooth compliments.
“Oh, Lukas has some friends over,” you mention. “They’re downstairs watching movies or playing video games.”
Toto frowns a little. “Those wouldn’t happen to be the same friends who were objectifying you?”
You pat his chest placatingly. “Now dear, we talked about this. Don’t make a fuss.”
“Hmph.” He still looks slightly disgruntled. “Well, I should at least go down and say hello.”
You follow him downstairs, where the group of teenage boys are sprawled out on the sofas engrossed in some action movie. Explosions boom from the surround sound system as CGI buildings crumble onscreen.
They look up when you and Toto enter. “Oh hey Mr. Wolff,” one of them says.
“Vati, you remember my friends right?” Lukas introduces. “Jason, Andrew, Ryan, and David.”
“Ah yes, nice to see you boys again,” Toto says smoothly.
Too smoothly.
You can sense the storm brewing beneath his polite façade.
Sure enough, as the teens’ attention returns to the movie, Toto clears his throat. “So I heard you boys were discussing my wife the other day.”
The room goes silent, save for the cinematic explosions still blaring through the speakers. The boys glance around uneasily.
“Um, we didn’t mean anything bad by it,” David finally offers timidly.
Toto raises an eyebrow. “Oh? So objectifying and sexualizing a married woman is not meant to be disrespectful?”
The teens squirm under his icy stare. You put a warning hand on your husband’s arm, but he continues.
“Let me tell you something about my wife,” he says, an edge creeping into his tone. “She is an elegant, successful, and highly intelligent woman. Not some piece of meat for you ogling schoolboys to drool over.”
The chastised boys all mumble apologies and stare fixedly at the floor.
Toto points a stern finger at them. “I trust there will be no further vulgar comments, or you won’t be welcome in this house again.”
“Yes sir,” they mutter. Lukas looks like he wants the leather couch to swallow him whole. You have to stifle a smile at your husband’s overprotective papa bear routine.
“Good. I’m glad we understand each other.” Toto straightens his suit jacket. “Now you boys enjoy your … movie.”
He turns and heads back upstairs, with you following after an apologetic smile to the shell-shocked teens.
Once you’re out of earshot, you swat his shoulder reproachfully. “Toto! Did you really need to traumatize the poor kids?”
“I didn’t traumatize them,” he huffs. “I just … explained a few things.” At your skeptical look, he amends “ … Firmly.”
You shake your head in exasperation. “You’re impossible. I thought I asked you not to make a fuss.”
He takes your hands earnestly. “I’m sorry, schatzi. I just can’t stand anyone disrespecting you. You deserve to be treated like a queen.”
You soften at the sincerity in his eyes. “Oh Toto. You’re too good to me.” You wrap your arms around him in a conciliatory hug.
He holds you close. “Nonsense. I’ll spend every day proving you’re the most important thing in the world to me.”
You snuggle against his chest, reminded yet again how lucky you are. Even when he overreacts, you know it comes from a place of devotion.
“Just promise me you’ll go easy on the boys,” you say wryly as you pull back. “I think you scared them straight for life.”
Toto smiles ruefully. “I suppose I did get a bit … intense. But the message won’t do any harm.”
You laugh and kiss his cheek. “My noble protector.”
He grins. “Proudly.”
Later, as the boys are getting ready to leave, Toto stops them at the front door.
“Before you go, I have one more thing to say,” he announces. The teens glance at each other nervously.
Toto looks each of them in the eye. “If I ever hear of you disrespecting my wife again, I won’t be so kind. You see, she’s actually a MIDF … Mother I Do Fuck.” He enunciates the words pointedly.
The teens’ eyes widen in horror, and Lukas turns bright red. “Vati!” He hisses in embarrassment.
Toto ignores him. “So I would appreciate it if you kept your crude comments to yourselves next time.” He gives them a tight smile. “Are we clear?”
The boys nod rapidly. “Yes sir. Crystal clear, Mr. Wolff,” one mumbles.
“Good.” Toto claps his hands together. “Then get home safely.”
After the front door shuts behind the fleeing teens, Lukas rounds on his father. “Oh my god, Vati! Why would you say that?”
He shrugs unapologetically. “I wanted to make sure they got the message loud and clear this time.”
Lukas just shakes his head in mortification before stomping upstairs.
You slide your arms around your unrepentant husband. “You just couldn’t resist, could you?”
“They left with a healthy dose of fear and respect,” Toto says smugly. “I think my work here is done.”
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helen-with-an-a · 2 days
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I am an adult pt 4
Hi. So this is pt 4 of the I am an adult. I really liked writing it and hope you enjoy it too. I definitely want to do a 5th part but I'm not sure about how many more after that I will do (if you get what I mean). Also, all of the German and Spanish is from google/google translate so if it's wrong, I apologise
Barca Femeni x Reader ; Lena Oberdorf x Reader
Part 1 : Part 2 : Part 3 : Part 3.5 : Part 4
Description: Lena gets the talk
Word Count: 4.1k
TW: Slight smut (undescribed/suggestive rather than outright)
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You weren’t used to waiting at airports for people. Usually, you were the one who was walking off the plane to visit friends and family. But you couldn’t deny the excitement bubbling up – just thinking about who would be walking through the door made you smile. You didn’t quite know the protocol for meeting your long-distance girlfriend off a flight. You were nervous about it – wanting to do it right. You may have gotten into a bit of a TikTok wormhole over couples reuniting; most people went with flowers and a sign, but you were staying in an unfamiliar city for both of you, and you did have a match to play. It was something you agonised over for days before the arrival. Having consulted an unhelpful Ona, a laughing Patri and an amused Jana, you settled on asking Alexia. That was an adult thing to talk about, right?
“Um … Ale, can I … can I ask you something?” You said as you curled up on her sofa.
“Of course, pequeña. Esta todo bien?”
“Yeh, um … it’s about Lena, actually” That might have been a bad way to phrase it. Alexia’s face dropped, her gaze becoming a little icy.
“Que hizo ella?” Her voice was just as cold.
“Nothing, nothing, prometo.” You reassured her. “I wanted to ask you what to get her for the airport,” you explained quietly, a little apprehensive over her response.
“Oh, cariño.” Alexia cooed, pulling her legs up to tuck underneath her as she twisted to face you, her hand reaching along the back of the sofa to pick at the corner of the cushion. “Honestly, I don’t think she’d be expecting anything. I certainly wouldn’t if Olga and I met somewhere in the middle.” Her look softened even more as you nodded furiously, eyes locked on her patterned carpet. She could see you sag ever so slightly – clearly, you wanted to get Lena something. “I think, if you really want to get her something,” she continued, smiling as you perked up at her response. “You could do something small – like a … ugh, what’s the word …” She was so fluent in English you often forgot that it was technically her third language. “It’s small and fluffy; you give it to niñas,” she clicked frantically, clearly trying hard to remember. “Un oso de peluche,” she sighed, wracking her brain to remember the English word.
“A teddy bear?” You asked, helping her out slightly.
“Sí, sí, a teddy bear. You could get her one of those? It would be small enough for her to pack away when she travels, and it is something she can keep with her when she’s back in Germany.” You smiled at her suggestion – nodding happily at her words.
The day was finally here. You were finally seeing Lena again. Madrid airport was a little struggle to navigate but you stood, buzzing with excitement, as you waited at arrivals. You looked down at the goodies you had with you – a little bag filled with a very cute and very fluffy teddy bear, some Spanish sweets, and an iced coffee in your hand. You had also packed a few extra jumpers to sneak into Lena’s bag before she left.
L💚: Just got through passport control and stuff
L💚: I’ll be maybe 5/10 more mins
[Initial] ❤️💙: eeeeeeeeeeeeee
[Initial] ❤️💙: ok – I’m like right by the exit
[Initial] ❤️💙: turn left when u walk through it and im by the pillar post thingy
5 to 10 more minutes … you could do that. With every passing minute, your excitement and anticipation grew. It had been a long few months without Lena by your side. Yes, you texted every day; Yes, you Facetimed 5 times a week minimum; but seeing her in person, being able to hug her and hold her and kiss her and smell her and touch her and … you couldn’t be more excited.
“Hola, mi amor.” Very poorly pronounced Spanish whispered to you as strong, familiar arms wrapped around your waist.
“Lena,” you squealed, clearly having missed her walk up – far too much in your own head.
“mmmm, ich habe dich vermisst,” she sighed happily as you twisted in her grip to hug her tightly. She was warm and soft and smelt of cinnamon.
“I’ve mis- no, wait,” you cut yourself off. She tilted her head to the side, drawing back to look at you. “Ich habe dich auch so sehr vermisst,” you stumbled slightly but the big, wide grin on Lena’s face told you, you had said it right.
“Can I kiss you, Schatz?” she asked gently. You blinked slightly, not expecting her to ask you that in such a public space. “I, we, don’t have to. It’s just it’s been so long, and,” she rushed to get out, hating the fact that she had made you even the smallest bit uncomfortable.
“Liebe,” you cut her off, waiting until she looked at you before you continued. When her warm chocolate eyes met yours, you struggled not to float away in them. “Please, kiss me.” You smiled as she let out a breath of relief. You met halfway, and it was just as perfect as all the other kisses you two had shared, if not more so after such a long time apart.
“As …” she cleared her throat as she pulled away slightly. “As much as I want to continue. We should get going … but later, ich verspreche.” She vowed and picked her bag up off the floor. And extending her hand for you to take.
“No, wait, gimme that.” You gestured for her bag, forcing it from her when she hesitated to hand it over. “Also, these are for you,” you said with a proud smile, giving her the now slightly watery coffee and bag of goodies.
“Schatz, you shouldn’t have.” She began, but you shook your head, denying her the chance to complain. You stuck your tongue out at her, intertwined your fingers and pulled her towards the exit.
Taking the metro back to your hotel reminded you a lot of your first date. Lena looking slightly puzzled over the Spanish being spoken all around you. On your first date, you had shyly stood next to her, closer than two friends would be not enough to make her feel uncomfortable, and quietly translated a bit of the conversation between two girls nearby; you added the voices to differentiate between the two girls and jokingly copied any actions they did. This time, you let her lean against you, one arm sneaking around her waist to fiddle with the belt loops on her jeans and the other holding tightly onto the handrail. Her head dropped into your neck, muttering something in German.
“What was that, Liebe?” You asked softly, mindful that your mouth was quite close to her ear despite the busy train.
“Müde,” she said again into your neck. It took you a minute to sift through the German in your head. You pouted when you finally understood what she was saying. She was tired. That you could understand, travelling was difficult when you understood the language, let alone one where you landed in a country where the language was entirely different and almost no familiarity to yours. You pressed a chaste kiss to her hairline, hoping to comfort her a little.
“Naw,” you cooed. "It’s okay. We’re almost back to the hotel. We can have a nap if you want,” you pressed another kiss to her head. "But Alexia says she has to see you at some point tonight,” you reminded her.
“Forgot ‘bout Alexia,” she whined tiredly, her grip tightening on you.
“I’m sorry, Liebe. I promise she won’t be too harsh or scary. I know she can come off a bit..." you struggled for the right word. “Intense? But I promise she’s really sweet.”
You finally made it to your stop, and you filtered off the train, fingers laced together so neither of you got lost (mainly Lena, as she didn’t know a lick of Spanish). Just as you were walking up the steps outside, a flustered woman appeared next to you.
“Lamento mucho molestarte. Pero estoy intentando llegar al aeropuerto y tienes una maleta. Sabes cómo conseguirlos?” The flurry of Spanish through you off for a second as you had been conversing in English almost all day.
“No, no te preocupes en absoluto. Um, sólo necesitas …” As you explained the directions to the woman, Lena couldn’t help but watch in awe. She knew you could speak Spanish – you lived in Spain, you played for Barcelona, and she’d seen you talking in Spanish on the football pitch. Hell, the first time she had met you, you were finishing a conversation in Spanish with the film and media crews. It had done something to her then, and it was doing something to her now, too. She couldn’t understand a word of what you were saying, but the accent, the rapid words, the hand gestures, your kind smile … she suddenly wasn’t as tired as she felt on the train.
“Sorry, Liebe,” you said as you finished, waving to the woman as she sped down the steps towards the platform. She was asking about getting to the airport—she had seen your bag and guessed we had just come from there.” You explained, taking her (now slightly clammy) hand and leading her towards your hotel.
The hotel room was big and welcoming, a large bed in the centre with your things thrown haphazardly across it called to Lena as she walked through the door. She left her stuff by the wall and flopped heavily down, sighing at the softness that surrounded her. You looked at her from your vantage point by the door. Her top had ridden up, exposing her abs slightly, her biceps were on full display, and the veins in her arms rippled slightly as she twisted her fingers in the bedding underneath her. She was doing things to you – maybe it was because you hadn’t had sex a good few months (it was currently the longest you had ever gone without since you started having sex); maybe it was because she looked so at home amongst your things; perhaps it was the fact that your girlfriend was finally within touching distance. You also realised you didn’t quite care enough to figure it out.
“Incoming,” you yelled as you launched yourself at her.
“Oof,” she huffed, her breath leaving her body as your weight settled on top of her, both of you laughing quietly at your behaviour.
“Hi,” you smiled at her, arms either side of her head, legs straddling her hips.
“Hi,” she smiled back, lift her hands to stroke her thumbs across your exposed skin.
“I…” should you say it? “I’ve missed you,” you chicken out from what you really wanted to say. You knew you told her at the airport that you missed her, but you needed her to know just how much her absence affected you.
“I’m sorry.” She knew the distance was difficult for both of you. You shook your head, refusing to let her think that this was her fault.
“No, there’s nothing that can be done at the moment. I’m at Barca; you’re at Wolfsburg. It is what it is.” You shrugged, hoping it would ease her sadness a little. “But … you’re here now, we have this weekend. And that is all that matters.” You smiled, the wide, soft smile full of love and tenderness that only Lena got to see often. You felt rather than saw Lena crane her neck up to try to kiss you; your smile shifted into a cheeky grin as you pulled back just out of her reach. She stopped looking at you offendedly.
“Nuh, uh, uh,” you teased, your tongue darting out to wet your lips. “I...” You kiss her forehead. This was your chance. “Missed.” You kissed her cheek, backing out again. “You.” You kissed her other cheek.
“And I’ve missed you, Schatz.” Her hands left your waist, coming up to cradle your face, holding to exactly where she wanted. She waited a few moments, letting her eyes scan your face, trying to commit everything to memory (even though she had already done that well before you left Germany at New Year’s). “So much,” she whispered as she finally tugged you down to meet her lips.
The kiss started out slow, sweet and tender, as your love was poured into it. As you parted, her darkened eyes roamed your body, one hand cementing itself in your hair, tugging lightly as the other moved to trace along the waistband of your shorts. Your kisses weren’t a battle for dominance, but you were falling into a pattern of give and take that was uniquely yours. Your top was the first to come off, hers following not too long afterwards. Buttons were undone, drawstrings loosened and more clothing adding to the mess on the floor. Her hands grasped at any available flesh as your fingers slipped inside. Dark spots were bitten into supple skin, moans were melodies as you rediscovered each other.
“Don’t stop,” You panted into her skin as she guided you to the brink of ecstasy.
“Never,” came her reply, equally as breathless.
“What happened to being tired?” You laughed as she snuggled into your side, her once-eager fingers tracing light shapes into your skin. She groaned at your teasing, pressing more weight onto you. You fiddled with her hair as you waited for an explanation.
“Dein Spanisch. Mit dieser Dame am Bahnhof … Es hat etwas mit mir gemacht” You didn’t understand it fully. Spanish … train station? You were a little confused.
“Sorry, I got something about my Spanish and the lady at the train station. What was the last bit?” You were trying to learn German, but you had started with the most practical things – the greetings, stuff that happened in daily life, cheesy lines you could say to Lena to make her blush.
“Um … it’s a bit embarrassing, really … you were speaking Spanish to that lady at the station,” she blushed profusely. You just smiled, letting your fingers comb through the mess her hair had become. “Es war wirklich sexy.” Your grin doubled in size. So, you speaking Spanish turned her on? That was useful to know.
“Well,” you said after a moment of silence. “If me giving directions to the airport is sexy, you should hear me when I say something truly seductive,” you teased, squeezing her gently as she buried her head in your neck again.
“Mmmm, déjame pensar. Cuando llegue a casa, debo acordarme de llamar al administrador del edificio.” You laughed as you felt her blush, the new heat obvious against your skin. You also couldn’t help but notice the slight shift of Lena’s hips against your thigh. “Liebe, I just said I needed to call my building manager – that is not sexy.” She pulled away from your skin.
“Uh, everything you do is sexy,” she countered. “Say something else? Something that’s actually hot,” she begged, ignoring your teasing smile, and raised eyebrow.
“Hm, vale, vale,” you wracked your brains, trying to think of something that you actually considered sexual. “Quiero que me tengas en todas las formas que quieras. Quiero destrozarte una y otra y otra vez.” You usually weren’t that explicit about your wants, but you were reliant on Lena not really knowing what you were saying.  Lena was gobsmacked. She had not a clue what you had just said but the way you had said it – the slight rasp in your voice, the rosy hue to your skin, the sticky sheen of sweat, the hickeys she had sucked into your skin. She rolled you over, balancing above you as her legs slotted between yours.
“Redonda Dos?” You asked. She knew enough Spanish for that.
Just as things were getting interesting again, your door swung up.
“Y/N? ¿Estás aquí? Ale te ha estado enviando mensajes de texto toda la tar -” Ona cut herself off with a shrill scream.
“Me arden los ojos.” She gagged dramatically. “Ew, mis ojos.”
“Oni, qué carajo en realidad?” You shouted back, dragging the duvet up to cover the both of you.
“Do you want to introduce me?” She grinned evilly.
“No, get out!” You glowered at her. When she made no effort to move, you threw a pillow at her.
“Ale says to come to her room.” You flicked your finger at her, letting her know your displeasure. Turning uour attention was fixed back on Lena, you heard her cackling outside.
“Scheiße, Scheiße, Scheiße. Alexia wird mich töten. Ich bin tot. Ich werde sterben. Ich hatte praktisch Sex mit ihrer kleinen Schwester. Oh, mein Gott. Ich werde sterben. Fuck.” Lena was panicking – real, genuine anxiety spread throughout her chest as she sat up against the pillows.
“Liebe, it’s ok,” you soothed, grabbing one hand in yours and swinging your other arm across her shoulders. “Liebe?” you tried again.
“Alexia is going to kill me.” Lena said, looking into your eyes for what she genuinely thought might be the final time.
“No, she won’t.” You smiled softly, not wanting to laugh at Lena’s ridiculousness. “I won’t let her,” you vowed, squeezing her hand tight in promise. “Now, we should probably get some clothes on and head to Ale’s room.”
As you reached for your hoodie, your world darkened suddenly as fabric landed on your head. You lifted it up to reveal a very familiar Adidas hoodie, turning back to see a sheepish Lena.
“How did that get there?” She asked innocently.
“I don’t know, Liebe. How did it get there?” You played along. “There’s only one Adidas athlete in this room, and it’s not me.” She shrugged, snatching your Barca hoodie out of your reach.
“I don’t know, Schatz. But it looks like it’s your only hoodie, and I want you to stay warm.” She was a terrible actor.
“If you wanted me to wear your clothes, you could have just asked,” you laughed as you slipped on the material, getting slightly lost as you tried to find the head hole. You heard a sigh and footsteps before the fabric was rearranged on you as your head burst through the top.
“Guten Tag,” you beamed at her.
“Hallo, Schatz,” she smiled at you before stealing a kiss. You hummed gently, allowing yourself to melt into her just slightly.
“Vamos, vamos.” You spun her around to face the door. “Let’s not keep Ale waiting,” you laughed and tapped her on the bum to get her moving.
Alexia’s room was exactly the same as yours – a wide, comforting bed with a mountain of pillows dominating the space. You tapped on the door, knowing that she would probably have at least 3 of the other girls in her room with her.
“Schatz, I know I said I would endure this for you … for us,” Lena said when it was clear Alexia was making you wait a little. Was she second guessing this? Was she regretting you? “And I will, I will.” She added when your head snapped back to look at her. “But I’m really freaking out here.” You softened.
“Oh, Liebe. It’s ok,” you said, pulling her into a hug. “I understand, really, I do. This isn’t exactly how I wanted you to meet Ale, but I promise you,” you squeezed her to emphasise your point. “She’s a giant softy with a tendency for affectionate bullying. If she starts speaking in Catalan, just ignore her; that’s what I do,” you joked, trying to lighten her mood a little. “She’s just like Alex and Svenja are to you. She’s just looking out for me – even though I don’t need her to and certainly not in this case,” you were rambling now, unknowingly easing Lena’s anxieties in an instant.
Someone cleared their throat behind you, cutting your talking off. Lucy. You smiled at her, pushing past as you guided Lena to sit on the edge of the bed, taking her hand in both of yours when you sat next to her – providing quiet but noticeable support. There were more people in the room than you were expecting. You knew Alexia would call on Lucy, Irene and probably Paños and Marta to give the talk, but Ingrid’s presence surprised you, as did Ona’s and Patri’s.
“Entonces, quieres presentarnos a Lena?” Alexia asked, leaning against the desk in front of you, Paños on her left, Lucy on her right. Irene and Marta stood blocking the path to the door – all of them with what they thought were tough expressions on their faces. Ingrid looked annoyed to be there, Ona was trying to look hard, and Patri had an amused smile dancing on her lips.
“In English, Alexia. It’s not fair on Lena to speak in a language she doesn’t know.” You said calmly, breathing deeply to keep your emotions in check. They had promised not to treat you like a child.
“Do you want to introduce us to Lena?” She asked again, voice artificially calm.
“Not if you’re going to treat us like children.” You raised an eyebrow, reminding all of them of their promises to treat you more adult-like.
“That was before we found out you were having sex,” Lucy started. She stood up from where she was leaning, you matching her behaviour by squaring your shoulders.
“Suficiente, vosotros dos.” Alexia ordered before you had the chance to comment. As much as she wanted to give a protective big sister talk, she realised that maybe this was what you meant when you said that you wanted to be treated more like an adult. It was silent as she studied you and Lena – sitting so close you were practically on top of each other, your thumb never wavering in its soothing motion against the back of Lena’s hand, the way Lena’s eyes kept flitting back to your face in search of any discomfort. She didn’t need to do the grandiose speech she was planning to give – she didn’t need to let every one of the older girls chime in with their threats. If Lena harmed you, Lena wouldn’t harm you – of that, Alexia was sure. “Everyone out. Not you or Lena,” she said as you shifted to leave. “Ona, quédate también por favor.” Alexia ignored the other’s protests; Lucy’s whining was heard even with the door closed. She had allowed Ona to stay in her role as your best friend – she wasn’t about to deny her this opportunity (especially since she knew you had promised Lucy you would exact a painful revenge if Ona ever came to you crying over something about their relationship).
“Lena. I am going to say this one time,” Alexia began, watching as Lena’s eyes grew wide and gulped noticeably. You just rolled your eyes at her antics. “If you hurt her,” she paused for dramatic effect. “I will hunt you down … and end you.” Alexia was quite pleased with herself – she considered that to be restrained enough to appease you whilst instilling enough fear in Lena to make her slightly nervous. Lena nodded, taking a breath to start making promises of never ever hurting you.
Ona cleared her throat from her perch on the windowsill, drawing all of your attention to her. She took a deep breath before letting out the sentence she had been practising since you first mentioned a German footballer had caught your eye, “Ich werde dir die Beine brechen.” The pronunciation was horrendous, but Lena knew what she meant. It was the worst threat Ona could think of with Lena being a footballer.
“Oni,” you whined, although you had no leg to stand on – your threat to Lucy had been so much worse.
“There, we have said what was needed to be said. Let’s go to dinner, sí?” Alexia smiled at the three of you, the polar opposite of the menacing Captain that stood in her place moments before. Ona laughed, looping her arm through Alexia’s and heading to the door.
“That wasn’t so bad,” You joked, nudging Lena. The tension was still very much in her body, however.
“I need them to know, and you need to know it too. I won’t hurt you, ever, Schatz. I promise, ich verspreche, prometo.” She looked deep into your eyes, willing you to understand how deep her vow went. She made the promise to herself in the shower after your first date; her mind kept replaying your almost-kiss, your bubbly laugh and the feel of your soft hand in hers. She had vowed that day to never let your smile fade, and she wanted … no, needed … you to know that.
“Liebe, I know that. They know that.” You reached up to cradle her face in your hands. You took a deep breath and said the words that had been playing on your mind for weeks now: “I love you.”
I hope you liked it <3<3<3
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valeskafics · 1 day
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"In(toxic)ated" - Rafe Cameron x Reader
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a/n: from an anon request for reader who enjoys rafe's toxicity combined w/ rafe and reader making each other jealous requested by @diiickbrainn made girly pop a bit toxic too hehehe 🩷
Summary: If love is supposed to make you crazy, then you and Rafe are definitely doing it right.
Word Count: 3,000
Rating: 18+, MDNI
TW: afab reader, she/her pronouns, profanity, innuendo, jealousy, toxic relationship, physical violence (not against reader), they both high key kinda psycho, dom!rafe fighting dom!reader RIP, reader gets dommed, edging, choking, spanking, pussy slapping, p in v sex, unprotected sex, creampie, light bondage, hair pulling, daddy kink
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Outer Banks characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.
Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are immensely appreciated 🩷
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By the time Rafe gets to school, he’s already in a pissy mood. He sees you standing at the end of the hallway, chatting away to your best friend, Scarlet, and his younger sister, Sarah, as if you don’t have a care in the world. As if you didn’t just fucking blow him off over text. He runs a hand over his face, trying his best to calm himself, before walking over to you. His bad mood is abated a bit by how fucking good you look today in that uniform skirt, the one he knows you had hemmed so that it could show off those fucking thighs of yours. Shit, he hates getting horny in the morning.
He walks over to stand beside you, giving you a charming grin, “So what’s up with not answering my texts?”
“I was busy,” you reply airily, slamming your locker shut.
“Busy with what? Not with me, that’s for damn sure,” Rafe frowns, Scarlet and Sarah deciding to make themselves scarce, not wanting to be on the frontlines for another one of your fights, “The fuck were you ‘busy’ with?” He demands, using air quotes, which just pisses you off even more, “Too busy to text me back? Be for real.”
“I don’t know, you know who you should text? Elena,” you retort, flipping your hair over your shoulder and turning to walk away, “You two seemed really fucking friendly in chem yesterday.”
He stares at you incredulously, grabbing you by the wrist and pulling you in toward him. Rafe grips your chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing you to look him in the eyes.
“You really think I give a shit about Elena? Who am I in love with, Princess? Answer me that.”
“Yourself.”
Rafe clenches his jaw, visibly annoyed at your sassy demeanor this morning, “Don’t be a fuckin’ smart-ass, Princess.”
“Whatever, Rafe,” you roll your eyes, “Can you, like, move? I have to get to econ.”
“Uh, no, sweetheart, I can’t move.” He shakes his head, “You just don’t fuckin’ get it, do you?” His hands move to the hem of your skirt, ghosting along the soft skin of your thigh, “You think all I care about is myself? You think I don’t notice every little thing about you, baby?”
You try turning your face away in annoyance only for him to grip your jaw in his hands and force you to face him again. As much as you hate to admit it, the whole thing is kind of turning you on. You love when he gets bossy like this. You give him a petulant look, wanting to make the moment last a while longer.
“You know how cute you are when you pout?” He coos, almost mockingly, “Makes me think about how pretty your lips look when they’re wrapped around my dick. You know you’re the only one I got eyes for, pretty girl.”
“I don’t like how close she sits to you,” you finally relent and mumble, crossing your arms, “You’re mine.” You gaze up at him, batting your long lashes that frame your doe eyes, making him melt at the sight, “Just don’t talk to her anymore?”
“It’s not like I talk to her for fun, only when we have to do shit for chem. But you’re my princess and I’ll do anything you want,” he chuckles.
You beam up at him, pecking him on the lips, “Thank you, babe.”
“Yeah, yeah, just quit being such a brat,” he nuzzles his nose against yours, pressing a kiss to your forehead as the two of you begin walking toward your classroom.
The crowd in the hallway parts, making way for the self-proclaimed King and Queen of Kildare Academy. And the two of you just soak it in as you walk, your heads held high, hand in hand. The looks of envy on your fellow student’s faces are unmistakable as you pass.
“You love it when I’m a brat.”
Well, he can’t deny that. He does love it.
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Rafe comes to walk you to trig, one of the two classes you share along with chem. You take your usual seats at the back of the classroom, Rafe pulling your desk closer to his. You cross your legs, your foot resting against his calf, and lean against his shoulder, waiting for class to begin. Of course, the peaceful moment doesn’t last long, considering Rafe grows irate with jealousy when the kid who sits in front of you, Toby, turns around to smile at you when passing back your quiz.
“The fuck are you smiling at her for, nerd?” Rafe demands.
“Rafe, what the fuck?” You hiss, “What is wrong with you?”
“He was checking you out! And you were letting him!”
“You’re literally insane,” you shake your head, “He smiled at me.”
“No, he smiled at your tits. Why are you fuckin’ defending him? You think he’s hot or something?”
“No, I don’t think he’s hot,” you whisper, trying to remain quiet so as not to hurt Toby’s feelings, “Jesus, Rafe, he’s not my type! What do you think he’s going to do? Calculus on my pussy or something? Be for fucking real.”
Rafe wants to crack a smile at your words, but holds himself back, “Stop talking to him.”
“He does my trig homework. No.”
“Well, he can stop. You’re so smart, baby, smart enough to do it yourself.”
“If I can have someone do it for me,” you say slowly, as if you’re speaking to a small child, “Why would I do it myself?”
Rafe narrows his eyes and crosses his arms. Fuck, he looks good with his shirt sleeves rolled up like that, but you do your best to ignore it, focusing on leafing through your binder to find your homework. He leans in close to you, the smell of his cologne filling your senses. Stupid dick.
“You can do anything yourself. You don’t need a man to do it for you.”
You scoff slightly, “You literally are always telling me ‘don’t worry, Princess, Daddy will take care of that for you’. Make it make sense, Rafe.”
He scowls, grabbing your nose, pinching slightly, ignoring your whines of protest, “That’s different. I’m your boyfriend. I’m supposed to take care of you n’ shit. Now stop arguing with me.”
“Owwwww, Rafe!”
He snickers at the nasally tone of your voice, finally letting go of your nose to ruffle your hair, earning another frown from you, “That’s what you get for talking back to Daddy, Princess.”
Rafe watches with affection as you open your compact and immediately begin fixing your hair, retouching your makeup and lip gloss. He rests his cheek on his palm, content to ignore the teacher lecturing at the front of the classroom and just keep looking at you. Does he find it slightly annoying that you’re not paying attention to him? Yes. More than slightly, really. But he can fix that.
“Hey,” he whispers, nudging you, “Guess what?”
“Hm?”
“I blocked Elena on Insta just now,” he says proudly, waiting for your praise, every bit a puppy looking to get scratched behind the ear by its owner.
“Good job, babe,” you reply, barely giving him a second glance as you continue writing your notes.
Rafe pouts slightly, and if you’d seen it, you might’ve even felt a bit sorry for him, “Can I get a thank you or something? You don’t sound very appreciative.”
You turn to face him, your tone biting, “Thank you, babe, for blocking the bitch whose follow request you shouldn’t have fucking accepted in the first place. Well done.”
Shaking his head, he lets out a huff before giving you a rueful smile, “You’re fuckin’ sassy today, baby. Maybe I’ll just have to punish you for it tonight. Spank that cute little ass and remind you who the boss is around here.” Rafe pauses, glancing around before leaning in, his breath hot against your neck, “I could even do it here at school. Drag you into one of the empty classrooms. Fuck you nice n’ slow till you’re creaming all over my cock and learn not to be so rude to Daddy.”
Though his words make a shiver go up and down your spine, you’re too determined to remain pissed off to let it show, “I’m not being fucking rude,” you hiss, crossing your arms, “God. Do you realize how lucky you are to be dating me? All the guys at this school would kill just for a chance with me. You should know that.”
“And I’d kill them for fuckin’ looking at you,” he replies, “And just so you know? If you were to leave me, which you won’t, I’d have a line of bitches begging to go out with me.”
“Oh, would you?” You smile at him, sickeningly sweet before letting your lips curl back in a sneer, ripping the charm bracelet he gave you for your birthday from your wrist, tossing it in his face, “Then go date one of them!”
Rafe sits there for a moment in complete shock before shaking his head, “Fine? You wanna be a brat? We’re done.”
“Okay,” you shrug, grabbing your backpack and strutting off toward the door to the classroom, “Bye.”
He’s completely frozen for a moment before rushing after you into the hallway, all of your fellow students watching your third breakup so far this school year play out, “Hey! Don’t you walk away from me like that! Get that cute little ass back here!” You ignore him, continuing to walk, going out toward the student parking lot. Rafe manages to grab your hand, turning you to face him, “You’re not walking away from me right now, baby. You’re mine and you’re gonna listen to what I’ve gotta say. Throwing tantrums and breaking up with me over nothing? What’s got you acting so crazy, huh?”
“Oh, so now I’m crazy?” You laugh, glaring up at him. Rafe can’t help but think how adorable you are when you try to talk tough, “Suck my ass, Rafe!”
He watches as you get into your car and drive away, your tires screeching on the asphalt as you lift your middle finger high in the air and leave him in the dust.
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Rafe wonders if you’re going to show up to his party tonight or not. This is the longest a breakup between the two of you has lasted, and he’s not sure if you meant it for real this time. He keeps that Chanel charm bracelet in his pocket, standing in a circle with a few of the other seniors, including none other than Elena. Is it petty of him? Yes. Extremely petty. But he knows that’s what he has to do to get your attention.
You walk in, making sure to wear your hottest dress, your strappiest heels, both of which were presents from Rafe of course, your hair pulled back to highlight the immaculate job you’ve done with your makeup. Your dress is black with parts of it cut out to show off your arms, your stomach, your cleavage, and of course, your legs. You walk into Tanneyhill as if you own the place, brushing past Rafe, slamming your shoulder against Elena’s, making her spill her drink. You smirk to yourself, seeing Scarlet waving you over.
Rafe calls after you, “Hey! Where are you going? I was waiting for you!”
You turn toward him, sneering slightly as you give Elena a sidelong glare, “Really? Doesn’t seem like you were waiting around. What happened to only talking to her for class? But whatever,” you give him a false smile, “I don’t own you. You can do whatever you want. We’re not even dating anymore.”
His jaw drops as he watches you saunter off to your friends, Sarah shooting him an awkward smile and a wave. He lets out a hiss of annoyance when he sees one of Scarlet’s friends chatting you up. You’re looking up at him, running your hand along his forearm with those pretty manicured fingers, batting those long lashes and giggling at everything he says. Before Rafe even knows what he’s doing, he’s puffing his chest out, storming over to where your group stands.
“You think flirting with my girlfriend is fucking funny, huh?” Rafe demands, shoving the guy away from you, “You think touching her like that is okay? The fuck is your name, bitch?”
“Babe, stop-” You let out a yelp of surprise as Rafe’s fist goes flying, straight into your new friend’s nose, “Rafe! Oh my God!”
Rafe ignores your squeal of protest, throwing punches, looking ready to kill. Looking like he’s enjoying it. Topper and Kelce try to pull him away, but to no avail. He keeps wailing on the poor guy, no doubt breaking his nose. And you? You just watch, biting your lip to hide the smile that spreads across your face. Rafe knows you love this. When he’s willing to fight for you, when he’s willing to get those knuckles all bruised and bloody to keep you with him, to show everyone who you belong to.
When he’s finally satisfied with the damage he’s done, you walk toward him, gently taking his hand, intertwining your fingers with his, “Let’s go to your room and fix you up, yeah?”
He nods, spitting at his rival before allowing you to lead him away.
Rafe smirks at you as you clean the cuts on his knuckles, his eyes darkened with lust, nostrils flaring slightly, “You do this on purpose. Turns you on when I go rage mode. You little psycho.”
You shrug and giggle as he pulls you into his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck, “What can I say? You just look so sexy when you’re mad.”
Before you know it, the two of you are locked in a fiery kiss, your teeth clashing as you fight each other for dominance. His hands slide under your dress, groping at your ass, your thighs, any bit of flesh he can get his hands on while you tug at his hair, nails raking along his scalp, smirking as he moans into your mouth. You push Rafe down on the bed, straddling his waist, grinding your hips against him, your lacy panties against the rough denim fabric of his jeans. You moan, moving your hips faster and faster, grinding harder and harder, your fingers twisting in his shirt. Rafe lets out a growl of annoyance and flips the two of you over so that you lay beneath him, his hand reaching for the Chanel ribbon you left in his room the last time you came over, the one that had wrapped the very charm bracelet you threw at him earlier today. Only now? They’re tying your wrists together above your head.
“Such a little fucking brat,” he snarls, “You need Daddy to remind you what happens when you talk back, huh?”
You let out a low moan as he flips you onto your stomach, lifting your dress just enough to land a series of slaps against your ass. You bury your face in his pillow, whining his name, pressing your thighs together, seeking the friction you so desperately crave. But Rafe won’t let you do that. He nudges your thighs apart and tugs your panties down, landing a slap right against your wet folds, making you throw your head back and cry out his name. You struggle against the way he’s tied your hands together, wanting to reach out for him.
But he’s won this battle. He’s in charge right now. You feel him palming at the flesh of your ass, his cock pressed against you as he slowly slides inside, a low groan escaping his lips at the feeling of your pussy squeezing around him. He lands another smack against you, admiring the subtle jiggle of your flesh, the way your body tenses around him, squeezing him so tight. And then, he moves to grab your throat, fucking into you like he hates you. His long, fat cock fucks into you so deep that you’re sure if you were on your back, he’d be pressing down against it, watching you squeal. But right now? He just wants to tug at your hair, choke you, whispering filthy words in your ear.
“This fucking pussy is all mine, Princess,” he growls, each thrust deeper and harsher, your climax quickly approaching, your walls fluttering around him, “You’re mine. You’re all fucking mine and no one can have you except me. Not ever. You’re mine. Say it.”
“I’m yours, Rafe,” you sob, holding onto the pillow for support, “All yours, Daddy. Please, need to come so bad…”
And just as you’re about to, he pulls out of you. Before you can protest, he flips you onto your back, lifting one of your knees over his shoulder and fucking into you even deeper. Your eyes roll back, toes curling as he continues to restrict your airflow, vision dancing with dark spots, getting closer and closer and closer until finally? You reach your peak, white hot pleasure shooting through your entire body, your mind barely registering the fact that Rafe has decided to cum inside you, filling your pussy, his eyes dancing with delight as he watches it leak out, his fingers moving quickly to push his cum back in, snickering to himself at the way you whine his name.
Rafe then collapses on the bed beside you, reaching out for his jean pocket. He undoes the ribbon around your hand and places your bracelet on your wrist once again, pressing a kiss to every one of your fingertips.
“I love you,” he says seriously, staring you straight in the eyes, his hand resting on your cheek, “And only you. Don’t you ever fucking forget that, baby. And don’t you ever try to fuckin’ leave me again. Cuz I might just tie you to this bed and keep you here forever.
Your eyes dance with mirth as you reply, “Promise?”
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rxzennia · 3 days
Text
picky eater
– tales of the voracity pathstrider
✎𓂃 leviathan? dog under the table! avvy, won’t you come home in 18 hours 30 minutes? final tribute to you before your release <3
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aventurine shows up in your office without knocking, as he often does. you look up from your work, raising a brow – you’ve gotten so used to him doing this that you’ve given up asking him what he wants altogether.
“what, i can’t even visit my own secretary?” he teases, trotting up to your desk and setting down a delicate bag of… something. “lunch, my dear, lunch. you skipped it again, didn’t you?”
you ignore his pet name for you and stare at the bag, then at him, then back at the bag
it’s quite endearing how he tries to make sure you eat regularly
even though your composition doesn’t quite need you to eat the way other people do
not that you can’t, you just don’t really need to, so you don’t
it’s just less effort for you and more efficiency
but who are you to deny your boss’s goodwill?
“thank you,” you say, giving the entire bag a quick sniff. “the usual?”
“the usual.” he confirms
more like if he gets anything else there’s quite a high chance that you won’t like it
he’s realized that you’re picky as hell
even though you literally eat monsters for fun 
okay, maybe not for fun
his point still stands, though
when it comes to your taste buds they’re the most hard to please things ever
it’s okay, someday he’ll find your favorite foods
in the meantime he’ll keep getting you stuff he knows you’ll eat
this information is obtained through trial and error, by the way
read: a lot of trials and a lot of errors. mostly errors
you flash him a small smile under your scarf
he doesn’t miss it; he’s known how to read your expressions by the changes in your eyes now
you set your papers aside and carefully put the few boxes of takeout on your desk
you have limited space on your desk because of the way you set it up
you don’t like big, wide spaces
when you finally pull down your scarf, aventurine’s entire person lights up with joy.
“what?” you ask, because he looks like that every time he sees your face.
“nothing,” aventurine chuckles, “just thinking about how you used to kick me out whenever you had to take off your scarf.”
you look at him from the corner of your eyes, your spoonful of rice half-raised
you are unimpressed
“would you like me to kick you out?” you offer very kindly
so cold
but he knows you’re not actually going to kick him out
still. so cold.
“hey, i brought you food!” he whines
you nod in agreement. “and i said thank you.”
why are you like this
please, as much as he loves these back-and-forths with you, have some mercy
then again the sight of you eating well is really heartwarming
plus the fact that he’s the one who's treating you
worth it 10/10
you’re using utensils like everyone else, but somehow you still eat really quickly?
what in the sorcery
you finish the contents in the boxes that smell familiar
the trustworthy boxes™ 
and that leaves you with… one delicate little box
it smells… ominous. like a crime against your tongue.
you look at aventurine with doubt in your eyes. what is he trying to feed you this time?
“cake,” he says, “i asked around for the best cafe in town.”
“you asked topaz.” you slowly take off the ribbon and open the box.
ouch, must you be so truthful?
because who else is he supposed to go to for these things?
it’s not like he can just ask anyone!
and he really wants to know your preference towards sweet things
you’ll eat very, very lightly sweetened things
but what about proper dessert? 
you’re gentle towards the box; you’re staring at the canary-shaped cake
more examining than staring, actually
seems like you appreciate intricately decorated things
he’s making a mental list of things you like and don’t like
even though you’re not very cooperative with him on this
like
c’mon, he wants to know everything about you! he wants to treat you right! let him!!!
(you do not know of the existence of such a list)
you pick up the mini cake and sniff it
pokes it with your tongue when you think it passes your sniff test
sweet, but nothing too bad so far
time to take it further
you try a tiny bite in the corner
your senses get assaulted by sugar, if that even makes sense
no. 0/10 would not recommend.
but you keep your face blank so as to not be blatantly obvious
“hmm.” you set the pastry down on your desk like you’re deep in thought.
“how is it? you like it?” aventurine awaits your answer eagerly, watching you closely. a little too closely, to be honest.
“please do not ever visit that store for cakes again.” you say, getting a spoonful of the unbitten side and offering it to your boss. “mm.”
you’re telling him to try it? 
the way you’re asking is so adorable
not even words, just a little hum and a small wave of the spoon
he does have a try of the cake
and have you feed him while he’s at it
very happy right now
would be better if the cake wasn’t sugared like it’s a day’s calories concentrate
he understands your response now
trying his best to not cringe
also knows to never ask topaz for dessert recommendations again
“if you don’t like it, let’s just toss it out,” he suggests, because he wouldn’t be able to stomach that either
no
you got this from him
territorial snake moment when he tries to take it from your hands
you hiss
jumpscare, he did not expect that
also oddly happy that you’re protective of the stuff he gives you
also concerned
“you’re not going to force yourself to eat that, are you…?” 
“what are you saying, of course not,” you say, setting the barely-eaten canary cake on your desk all the while keeping aventurine’s hands away from it. 
then your scarf comes and swallows the thing in one gulp.
what.
“it…” aventurine points a shaky finger at the white fabric that morphed into a faceless serpent’s head at the ends. “it ate it? just like that?”
“if it can swallow monsters whole, it can eat an overly sweet cake.” you shrug, finally wiping your mouth and pulling your scarf back up.
aventurine’s jaw would be on the floor if it was physically possible. unfortunately, it isn’t. “i thought you could still taste when your scarf eats things?” 
“monsters.” you reply, patting your scarf as it settles into a regular piece of cloth again, “it tastes monsters. not food.”
so that's how you managed to finish even the things you absolutely hate? by having your scarf eat it?
aeons, there’s still so much he has yet to learn about you, isn't there?
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moonstruckme · 8 hours
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hmmm how about james potter and shy reader’s first kiss? 💘
Idk how this sat so long in my inbox, thank you for requesting (and for your patience) angel!
James Potter x shy!reader ♡ 998 words
You know James has been holding back on your account. He’s still a thousand times braver than you are, always with a hand cast over your shoulders or resting on your back or clasped around yours and compliments dropping from his lips like they’re nothing. You find it easier to reciprocate when he makes the first move like that. To lean into his side, tighten your fingers around his, smile and tell him he looks lovely, too. 
Tonight he seems to be taking things further, and you suspect you know why. He’s seemed reluctant to let you out of arm’s reach all night. Instead of just holding your hand, he’d played with your fingers while you’d sat in the cinema. He’d pushed your hair out of your face when you turned to talk to him, and a couple of times he’d wiped chocolate from the corner of your mouth that you suspect wasn’t really there. Now, as you’re walking home, he’s rubbing a slow, absentminded back-and-forth across the back of your hand with his thumb. It feels like he’s testing the waters. 
You’ve been dating for a while now. You’d wondered when it would come. 
James walks you up your front steps, every smile he beams your way worsening the bone-thuddering beat of your heart. It’s not necessarily James that scares you. He’s perfect and lovely and kind, and you want him close so badly it’s humiliating. 
He squeezes your hand in his, and your nerves misfire, the toe of your shoe catching on the top step. You gasp as you pitch forward, but James is quick. He grabs you around the middle and you save yourself with your other foot. 
“Whoa,” he laughs. “You alright, sweetheart?” 
“Yeah,” you breathe. “Sorry, I don’t know how that happened.” 
“They are your own front steps,” James points out. There’s a knowing in his eyes, in the soft curl of his bottom lip, that makes your cheeks warm and your stomach flutter. “I hate to think of what unfamiliar steps do to you if you’re falling right outside your own home.” 
“I know.” You look down, pretending you need to check your shoelaces or brush off your pants or some other ruse he won’t believe, and try not to be so acutely aware of how he hasn’t let you go. “It’s humiliating. The neighbors will talk.” 
“Let me know if they do. I’ll set them straight.” 
You grin up at him, and James’ expression is as warm as his voice. His eyes go molten as they meet yours, a look now familiar and yet newly thrilling every time. It makes your spine feel rubbery. 
“Thanks for coming tonight,” he says, voice gone a bit softer than usual. “I had a really great time.” 
“I did, too,” you reply earnestly. “Thanks for inviting me.” 
“You’re always invited, sweetheart.” His touch slips from around your middle, taking your hand again. “See you Friday, then?” 
When you’d told James how busy you’d be this week, he’d penciled himself into your schedule for Friday, when the pandemonium will have ceased. He wants to cook you dinner. You think you’ll likely deliquesce into a heart-shaped puddle when he does. 
“See you then.” You smile, and he smiles back, and then intention solidifies in his gaze.
You hold your breath. 
“Can I kiss you?” he asks. 
“Please.” The word leaves you on a sigh, and then James is stepping closer to you, your fingers tightening on his. 
The first soft press of his mouth is gentle and chaste. Warm, like the rest of him, like sunlight given form. His hand comes up to hold the side of your face, and you lean into the touch on instinct, slotting your nose alongside his to get him closer. It starts so slow and lovely you’re not sure you can handle anything more, but then James parts his lips and you mirror him reflexively and his sunlight is pouring into you. 
You let go of his hand to wrap both your arms around his neck, and James smiles against your lips as you press closer to him, his hand gentle on your face as he slows you both down again with sweet, soft kisses to your bottom lip. 
“Easy,” he says, his own voice slightly hoarse now. It sends shivers down your spine, light as a feather’s touch. “Let’s give the neighbors one headline at a time, yeah? Don’t want to overwhelm the presses.” 
You’re lost for words. You let your forehead rest against his, eyes still closed, savoring the warmth emanating from your lips. 
“Sweetheart, you with me?” James tilts his head up so his nose bumps into yours. You feel your lips curve of their own volition. “Was that okay?” 
You hum. “You’re right,” you say, impressed with how normal you manage to sound. “I think we should go inside so they’re left to wonder.” 
That earns you a hearty laugh, James grasping your shoulders when you’re forced away from him by the raucousness of it. 
“You said you were tired just a few minutes ago,” he reminds you. 
“I feel awake now.” 
He laughs again, delighted, and your face warms at your own brazenness. James lets his touch slip down your arms to your hands again, taking them in his and squeezing reassuringly. 
“As much as I’d like to,” he says, “you’ve got a big week. I should let you get to bed. Plus—” he gives you a roguish grin “—keeping you wanting more is how I get you to let me in here on Friday.”
You grin down at your shoes. “That’s very conniving of you.” 
“Oh, yeah, I’m nefarious that way. But one more.” 
James tilts your face up with a hand, pressing one quick, sweet kiss to your lips before pulling out of your reach. You know you look as surprised as you feel, because his eyes dance with amusement as he backs down the stairs, his smile poorly repressed. 
“See you Friday, sweetheart.” 
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erwinsvow · 1 day
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really, rafe hadn’t even realized he’d done anything special. 
he was used to having sarah’s litter of friends over at tannyhill, as annoying as it was. after one of them had needed an ambulance and a stomach pumping after too many shots snuck in upstairs in his sister’s room, he was trying to keep a handle on things, keep an eye on the situation. be proactive, be the man of the house, which he was when ward wasn’t there.
he thought he’d heard a bunch of girls scurry out in the morning, but he must have been wrong, because when he’s walking to his truck, he finds you, sitting on the ground next to your bike, blocking his exit.
you look angry, mumbling curses under your breath while you fiddle with something he can’t see—though your bike is tipped over and the wheel looks slightly deflated. 
the first thought in his head is to tell you to move with your bike or he’ll run you both over. but that’s not what the man of the house would say, so instead he gets closer, crouching next to you.
“what’s goin’ on?”
you look up, startled. you were so focused on your broken bike that you hadn’t heard the footsteps of sarah’s older brother, the one she always complains about.
“everyone left for the beach already, i was gonna bike there. i got on and the wheel just gave out and i fell off. i don’t know what’s wrong with the stupid thing.” you’re facing your bike now, looking at the various gears and chains trying to make sense of it. you don’t look back at him but he’s still staring.
rafe doesn’t think he’s met you before, thinks he would have remembered—you were too pretty for him to forget.
he hoists the bike upright, spinning the tire until a gleam of silver comes around.
“nail in the driveway. your, uh, little bike didn’t have a chance.”
“crap. i don’t have the thing with me.”
“the thing?”
“the air pumpy thing. you know, the thing?” you look up at rafe to see his furrowed eyebrows.
“yeah, kid. sure.” he takes a step back, leaning the bike against his truck. “lemme go see what i can find.” you’re still perched on the ground, but pressing your palms flat on the pavement to get yourself up. “here-” he offers you his hand, helping you up.
even standing, you still have to look up at rafe to see his face. 
“you don’t have to do that. i’m sure you’re busy. i can always walk-”
“nah, it’s fine. you saved my tire from getting that nail. stay here, i’ll be back.” 
and you listen, twiddling your thumbs waiting for rafe. he comes back with a tire pump and other things that you don’t recognize, but you watch intently. when he pulls out the nail, he offers it to you, and you offer him your cupped palms to drop it into. 
finally, rafe stands and moves the bike slowly, testing it out.
“here, kid. good as new.”
“wow. thanks rafe!” you beam, smiling brightly. “that was so nice of you. you’re so nice.” you think you sound a little dazed—but you are. rafe is so nice to you, nothing like what sarah had told you about him.
at first rafe can’t tell if you’re just joking or not, but he decides not when you don’t immediately get on your bike and ride to where your friends are.
“uh, thanks. it’s nothin’. m’not just gonna leave you here like your shitty friends did.” you laugh, still smiling at him. “well, uh, i’ll see you around, kid.” for once, he actually hopes he does.
after the beach that day, you swing back home, making sure to ask sarah what her brother’s favorite dessert is. you pack a big batch of oatmeal raisin cookies in a pretty pink tin and put them in the wicker basket attached to your bicycle, riding over to sarah’s place. 
instead of going upstairs like you normally do, you wander into the kitchen, where rafe is standing, looking at some papers spread out on the island.
“hi, rafe,” you say, and when he turns to look at you, you smile big. 
“hey, kid. uh, i don’t think sarah’s home yet-”
“oh, i didn’t come for her.” you open the tin, placing it on the counter infront of him. “i just wanted to say thanks for this morning. sarah said you like oatmeal raisin.”
he looks up down at the cookies, then at you. 
“thanks. y’know, you didn’t have to do that.”
“maybe. you were just so nice this morning, i felt like i should do something.” you’re looking up at him with big, fluttery eyes and a thudding heart. “is there anything else i can do? that you want? to say thank you?”
he cocks an eyebrow, tilting his head, hoping he’s understanding you correctly while knowing that he is.
“yeah-yeah? anything else?”
“i just want to thank you properly,” you sigh, getting closer. being bold’s not new to you, but this is only the second time you’re talking to him. you’re sure he understands, with the tiny dress you wore here, the one with the low neck and thin straps.
“yeah. alright, kid. c’mon, upstairs.” you beam, darting up the stairs and giving him a show in the process. he stares from the foot of the stairs for a second before joining you.
you’re so glad you stuck that nail in your tire.
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rootbeerworshiper · 13 hours
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means something
matt sturniolo x fem!reader
summery: your best friend stopped talking to you suddenly but you need one last chance at closure
warnings: angst lol
a/n: short and sweet (and sad) but i had fun writing it. alsoooo it’s based on the song but you don’t need the song playing in the background bc the pacing is different
love, sienna <3
you let out a defeated sigh as you focus your attention on a blank sheet of paper. it was supposed to be easy now, easier to let out your thoughts and begin to reconstruct your views on the situations that bring you sadness. at least that’s what your therapist advised you.
but instead you have nothing but small doodles of hearts on the top of the paper, serving as nothing but a sad reminder of your own life and how it lacks the love you always read about.
‘hopeless romantic’ used to feel like the wrong word, because there was a point where you had hope for a story like you see in the movies. a classic romantic comedy plot line was one you had always yearned for.
it’s silly how badly you’ve wanted it. you know you’re a complete person without it, you have strengths and aspirations and you cannot base your worth onto stupid boys.
but he wasn’t stupid. not in the slightest, regardless of what others said about him.
he was thoughtful and caring in ways no one else has been to you. never in your life have you seen someone so in touch with their own emotions at that level.
that’s because he’s special. to you and to so many other people.
April 17th, 2022
dear Matt,
i’m not entirely sure how to do this whole thing but it’s a step in healing that i’m more than inclined to take. part of me just really wants to get better so i have to do something to help me.
it might seem really random that i’m mailing you a letter, and trust me i understand how odd it is. but for once i needed you to hear me, and i can’t really send this message to a blocked number.
i can’t see anything in life without thinking of you. i saw a street sign the other day and i had to squint because, for a moment i thought i saw your last name plastered on the plastic. and i thought that it meant something. like the universe was trying to tell me something.
how pathetic is that? you know i can’t even have most of my favourite snacks anymore because they were our favourite snacks. the new foods you introduced me to when i forced you to watch ‘to all the boys i’ve loved before’ with me in middle school are practically forbidden from my apartment.
“this is the dumbest movie concept ever” Matt speaks, an annoyed undertone to his voice as he looks to me.
“you haven’t even watched it yet how can it be dumb? you know you might end up enjoying it if you watch it with an open mind” i reply, snuggling into his arm as my body rests on the soft couch cushion.
it definitely doesn’t take long for him to become invested.
“wait someone sent the letters?”
“why is she kissing him? doesn’t she like margo’s boyfriend?”
“damn they’re really just making out in a public hot tub”
the movie comes to a close, a cute song playing as the credits roll. “so, what did you think?”
“i think that i really like root beer and i really need the second movie now” he exclaims, sipping his bubbly liquid before looking down at me with the same blue eyes that can easily make me dizzy.
“i thought you’d come around Matt”
now i’m just a girl getting sad over a canned soda and a familiar brand of chips because it reminds me of all the good that once was.
along with this, i know everything about you.
i know your zodiac sign, me and leo’s are really compatible, which i never failed to mention to you despite how little you believe in astrology.
i can’t lie, the amount of silly little compatibility quizzes i took throughout middle school with our names punched in was a bit excessive, but every time without fail i would get the answers i had hoped for. and i thought that meant something.
i know how hard it was growing up for you. but i was there for you when you needed someone to force you to go to school in the morning, or when you needed help ordering food at the gas station across the street.
i used to think we were soulmates. not always romantic, but we just understood each other so well and i considered it to be sacred.
whenever i went through my own shit you were there for me. it was always so easy. knowing that if i had a bad day i had someone to go to who would listen with open ears… i guess it’s just been hard to live without that.
“Matt why did he break up with me? am i that unlovable?” i cry out, my head buried in matt’s chest as he rubs small circles on the back of my head.
he just pulls my head off of him, hands placed on either cheek as he looks at me. “i don’t think there is anyone on this planet that is more lovable than you”
i sniffle, trying my best to suppress the numerous tears that want nothing more than to escape my eyes. “so why did he break up with me out of the blue? after eight months why did he just decide he’s done with me?”
“because he’s an idiot who doesn’t understand the girl he just lost”
i cried for hours that night when my boyfriend broke up with me, and i know you remember. the next morning i woke up in your arms and i immediately felt guilty for keeping you up so late with my sob stories, but you didn’t care.
you said you wanted what’s best for me and you would make it your life’s goal to make me happy. and then you had the audacity to run your fingers through my hair as i thought about what to do next. that along with the constant reminders of how much i deserved love, that it was a definite thing for me.
how is that okay? do you not see how that was so completely confusing? did it mean absolutely nothing?
i haven’t kissed many people in my life, something Chris loved to tease me about. what he doesn’t know is that you were my first.
we never talked about it. maybe that was for the best, because every time i see a picture of you all i can think about is how good your lips felt on mine.
“i can’t just kiss you!” i laugh out, taking another swig of my drink before wiping my lips and looking back at the boy who has a serious expression resting on his face.
“sure you can. i don’t want jack to have an unfortunate ending to your guys’ date if u end up like… licking his bottom lip or some shit” he argues, holding his own drink in his own hand but keeping his attention solely on me.
“you’re just saying that because you’re drunk”
“maybe” he replies, sensing my hesitance. “is the idea of kissing me that bad?”
“no! no of course not, i just don’t wanna make it weird between us” i say, suddenly feeling a pool of anxiety form in my stomach.
but then, before i could form another overwhelming thought you just kissed me. just like that your lips were attached to mine and everything felt okay.
it was short lived, although i know i could have been like that forever. “nothing could ever make things weird between us, promise”
it’s funny isn’t it? how many times we assured each other that our friendship was solid, unbreakable.
i think the worst part is the not knowing. there’s nothing to comfort me with.
you left one day and you simply never spoke to me again. was it my fault? was it something i said?
i can’t help but wonder if the reason you cut it off is because you noticed all the small glances i would take in your direction. or if you noticed that the reason why i love romance books so much is because i imagine we’re the main characters.
that’s the thing though, i’ll never know. i feel less like myself without you, but maybe that’s part of growing up.
i have to learn what my own favourite snacks are and i can’t reply on you to have my back when i get my heart broken. instead i’ll be crying in an empty bed wondering what could’ve happened differently.
this wasn’t supposed to be a long letter but i promise it’s the only one you’ll be getting from me because i have to do the same as you, i have to move on.
i just have one question for you.
did all of this mean something to you? like really mean something to you in the way that i interpreted it.
i’ve wondered if i was delusional when i caught you staring at me from across the classroom, or when i found those compatibility tests in your search history.
but the kiss? drunk or not i thought something was there, with you or with us or whatever else. i didn’t think i was just another girl that Matt Sturniolo kisses and then forgets about but that’s exactly what i became.
anyways, i hope this letter finds you well. i had to ask Nate for your address but please don’t get mad at him. you know how stubborn i am when i want something and he tried to say no.
i guess i just love you, and i’m trying my best to make that sentence into past tense.
thanks for listening, y/n.
you grab an envelope that resides on the edge of your desk and open it up. folding up your letter and placing it gently inside before licking the tip of the envelope and closing it.
it all feels metaphorical. pouring your heart out just for it to get concealed by a thin piece of paper and shipped away.
regardless, you breathe out, standing up and making your way over to the garage to start your car. if you don’t do it know you won’t do it at all, and you need him to hear you.
a/n: if u want a part 2 you might get one maybe… we’ll see what i’m feeling anyways hope you enjoyed this blurb
taglist: @lolasnoww-blog @tastesousweet @ivypoison @disturbedwoodelf @sturnswift @junnniiieee07 @ellie-luvsfics @sturnified @madsdogst @justlivinglive @sluttycupsworld @flowerxbunnie @mbsbaby @sturniolossmut @lustfulslxt @69isabella69 @dracoflaco @mattslatinagf @raekensluver @worldlxvlys @greatooglymooglyyy @breeloveschris @st7rnioioss @imwetforyourmom @sturniolololover @immuneweed @its-jennarose @taco-taco-posts @luverboychris @gracealwaysdisgrace @gamermattsgf @mattscoquette @nervoussagittarius @sugrhigh @jnkvivi @sturnsmia
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kotoku · 2 days
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Hiii~
Can I request aventurine and Dr ratio (separately or together ur choice) with klee reader
Maybe Sunday too?
I just want chaos to unfold-
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Take care ☺️
ꜱᴜɴᴅᴀʏ, ᴀᴠᴇɴᴛᴜʀɪɴᴇ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴅʀ ʀᴀᴛɪᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ ᴋʟᴇᴇ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ
pairings - sunday & klee! reader / aventurine & klee! reader / dr ratio & klee! reader
content - reader is gender-neutral/ klee! reader/ platonic relationships/ familial relationships/ chaos
warnings - a bit of angst (?), might be ooc i'm sorry guys T_T
⋘ ʟᴏᴀᴅɪɴɢ... ⋙
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↻ Whether you met Sunday because you’ve been unknowingly stirring up trouble in the dreamscapes or you met him by chance, he’d be a bit worried and concerned about a child roaming alone in Penacony
↺ He may or may not slowly adopt you into his routine as he always finds himself being greeted by you on the streets of Penacony (or called by a family member because mayhem has been occurring in certain parts of the dreamscapes)
↺ Gazing upon the damage you had done in the dreamscape as you stared at him with wide innocent eyes, he couldn’t be upset with you but rather surprised by how much power this unknown child has
↻ Sunday would be a lot like Jean, but he’d be a little more lenient when it comes to you
↺ He’d probably have a small area/room that’s your designated play area whenever you’re with him and sometimes he’d have to give you a time-out for blowing up something in the dreamscape
↺ Said time out wouldn’t last long as he’d feel guilty looking at your saddened state
↻ Sometimes whenever the other family members had a meeting with Sunday, they would see you playing around with your favorite stuffed animal but wouldn’t dare question your presence (you had quite the reputation for being.. explosive…)
↻ I think when it comes to each character with a Klee! Reader, they’d have those animal backpacks with the leash attached to it just because you’re so chaotic
↺ One moment they would be walking with you and then the next you’ve run off to somewhere that caught your attention
↺ For Sunday’s mental well-being, he got you this backpack to help him keep an eye on you whenever you were distracted
↻ As I mentioned in previous posts, Sunday, whenever he’s anxious or worried for you, would pace around his office with his feathers just puffing up and some of them popping right off due to his stress
↺ When you are found safe and sound, he’d give you a tight hug and you’d start playing with the feathers that were scattered on the ground
↺ He’s.. amused by it
↻ Honestly, Sunday had no idea what to do with you as you were found to be alone and it didn’t seem like you knew any of your family members (Just going to ignore Albedo and Klee’s mother for my sake…)
↺ Eventually, he warmed up to you a lot and considers you his little sister, which Robin also adores having around
↻ Sunday would be very protective of you but a little.. nervous about your abilities, he knew to an extent you were capable of handling things yourself
↺ But you are still a child so he’s extra cautious about the dangers in the dreamscapes and makes sure that you don’t get into trouble
↺ Otherwise, he’d have to confiscate your bombs.. which he really didn’t want to do because then you’d be super upset
↺ He tried to confiscate them one time but that ended up with you ignoring him for the remainder of the day and you were sulking in your playroom
↻ Sunday, during the Charmony Festival, would keep a very close eye on you because of what has been going on within Penacony
↺ He’ll keep you in his line of sight at all times, whether it’s him personally accompanying you around or having you sit near him in his conference room, he wouldn’t want you wandering too far off
↺ You’d find Sunday mumbling to himself while looking at some documents, but you never really understood them so you always stuck to what you were doing
↻ Sunday is very fond of you, and he’d do anything to ensure your safety
-----
Sunday was seated at his conference table, hand holding his chin in thought as he scanned through the multitude of documents. He carefully looked them over and over again, thoroughly reading through the letters written by a family member he assigned an assignment to. 
With the Charmony Festival coming in full swing, Sunday wanted to make sure that things would run as smoothly as possible, despite the growing concern that was nagging him from the depths of his consciousness. He couldn’t afford to become distracted…
That is what he thought, but yet he still found himself engaging in your little antics. Although things were growing busier and busier by the day, he wanted to ensure that you were alright and safe, playing a couple of your games when you pleaded for him to stay. He didn’t find the idea of playing with bombs safe, but if it was what made you happy, then your wish was his command.
As he stood up to roam the halls of his mansion, he gazed out into the open through the grand windows, a million thoughts racing through his mind. The future of Penacony contained countless outcomes and he could only grow restless every time he thought of it. But having you around to distract him from his worries with your silly antics, even if for just a fleeting moment, made him feel as if everything was going to be alright…
He would make sure of that.
-----
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↻ Aventurine would also find your chaotic nature interesting, in fact, he might even indulge in it by taking a role in your little schemes
↺ He’d be a little concerned when you go a bit too far with your bombs and antics, so he’d try nudging you into a not-so-concerning situation
↻ Aventurine would find you when you got into a little scuffle with his subordinates, somehow destroying some IPC property and getting an earful from his coworkers
↺ Those IPC grunts would be terrified of you if they saw what you could do, especially because you’re a CHILD playing with BOMBS (They’re seriously concerned about who raised you and why you are the way you are.. or how you even managed to have bombs on you??)
↻ He’d send them off to go do something else (or to go bother someone else..) and bend down to your level to ask about your guardians or caregiver
↺ When you are confused about what he is talking about, his concern would only grow before he’d take you to find a trusted person to watch over you as he was busy with an assignment
↺ However, he would only come back to find that you escaped a worker’s watchful gaze and were playing with that bomb toy you had on you (Docodo? Cododo?? Whatever you said its name was…)
↻ When Aventurine hangs around you a little more during his free time (whether he’s done with work or doesn’t feel up to gambling), inquiring about the little fella you had on you and about your background
↺ He’d kind of take you under his wing from there on out, having you accompany him on missions if he determined they weren’t dangerous and were minor assignments
↺ Topaz would find it surprising seeing him around with a little kid, she’d even be wary about his intentions with you as he had suddenly popped up with a small kid out of nowhere
↺ She’d introduce you to Numby who, to your delight, would play and spend a bit of time with you
↻ Sometimes you’d accompany Aventurine on his casino trips, but he’d try leaving you out of them as it wasn’t really a kid-friendly setting
↺ So sometimes you’d in up in a more appropriate setting like a small daycare where you were safe (yet you’d sometimes pop up next to him in a game and catch him off guard)
↻ Aventurine, as someone with a lot of money to freely spend, would spoil you with a variety of things that he’d think you would like
↺ You aren’t necessarily a spoiled child, but he’d still get you the things that have caught your interest, whether you voice what you liked or not
↻ When he passes by a shop that has a showcase of kid backpacks, he would see one with a plush animal and a leash and he’d automatically get it for you 
↺ You wouldn’t really care about the leash part as you’re too distracted by the cute plush animal backpack, so it really was no problem for Aventurine
↺ He’d be walking around the IPC’s headquarters or Penacony with the backpack leash in his hand, you following him yet straying whenever you saw something
↺ He’d have to give the leash a small tug to make sure you weren’t wandering too far off though
↻ If you did something dangerous such as blowing up something that belongs to the IPC, Aventurine would vouch for you, becoming your partner in crime (Him sending a sly wink your way as you giggle innocently, hands covering your mouth to stifle your laughter) 
↺ Topaz would be the one scolding you before Aventurine tries defending your honor, but then he’d end up getting scolded by her too
↻ Aventurine would try his best to protect your innocence, not wanting you to see the dangers that linger on the different worlds he ends up on or what may invade the IPC’s headquarters
↺ He’s seen and witnessed firsthand hand of losing his innocence at a young age, those memories of his past still haunt him to this day and he doesn’t want you living with the same burden so he tries his best to protect you from danger (even if you’re somewhat capable of protecting yourself)
-----
“_____, did you destroy a piece of the IPC’s belongings again!?” Topaz asked, a stern look on her face as you stood there innocently with your hands tucked behind your back. 
“No… I didn’t do anything I swear! You can even ask Dodoco!” You answered, shoving Dodoco out in front of you as if to emphasize your statement. Topaz sighed, shaking her head.
“_____… I know you want to play around but sometimes you need to be careful of where you are. You could get hurt or, well.. damage things that aren’t yours.” Crossing her arms, Topaz looked at you with a softer gaze. You persisted in your stance. 
“But I swear! I didn’t do it!” You cried out, holding Dodoco closer to your chest. “Y-you can even ask Mr. Aventurine!”
“I heard my name?” Aventurine slinked to the spot right next to you, giving Topaz a questioning yet sly look. Topaz couldn’t help but groan when he popped up next to you, feeling as if she was on the verge of being teamed up against. 
“Mr. Aventurine! Please tell Miss Topaz that I wasn’t the one who blew up some of the IPC’s equipment!” You begged, tugging at his coat as he looked down at you with his cat-like eyes. 
He gave you a closed-eyed smile, patting the top of your head. “Is that what’s going on? Well, I have unfortunate news for you Topaz, as little _____ here was busy helping me out with an assignment.” Aventurine had a smug smile on his face as if to tease Topaz and tick her off, which worked.
Topaz, rolling her eyes, heaved a deep sigh. “Fine, I believe you, _____. You can go run off and play now.” 
With a joyful smile on your face and a cheer, you thanked Topaz before turning to thank Aventurine, bowing slightly with a quiet giggle.
“Thank you Mr. Aventurine! Promise we’ll play next time?” 
“I promise, _____. Now go play with Dodoco in your room, okay? I’ll check up on you later when I’m done with work.” 
“Okay!” 
-----
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↻ Dr Ratio wasn’t necessarily fond of children…
↺ He understood that they weren’t the brightest of stars, but he could barely handle some of the behaviors they exhibited
↺ I imagine he’d be so disgusted because of how kids can be known for doing the weirdest stuff… (Picking their boogers, touching a variety of items, being unsanitary... the list goes on)
↻ When he meets you for the first time, he’s curious about the construction of your bombs and how you were able to make them
↺ To his disappointment, you are only able to draw crude drawings of the construction of your bombs and poorly explain how you built them
↺ He takes it upon himself to sample one of your bombs to see what they’re made of and how they’re made
↻ You’d invite him (more like drag him) to help you create and play with your bombs and he’d reluctantly follow you to where your room is
↺ Aventurine walking in on you playing dolls (or your bombs) with Ratio
-----
“How are you doing?”
“Mister Ratio, say it in your girl voice.”
“Sigh… How you doin’? 💅”
*Aventurine laughing before Ratio throws the doll he’s holding at him*
-----
↻ Ratio, knowing him, would tutor you if you went to a daycare or school, helping you understand your homework and teaching you about different subjects
↺ You wouldn’t comprehend half the things he’s teaching you but you follow along anyway
↺ Ratio would be genuinely happy if you were able to learn something new from him and apply it to your life
↻ Ratio is the type of teacher figure to give you random quizzes to test your knowledge and understanding but he rewards you with things like snacks or trinkets he gets from his trips
↻ Ratio would be delighted to talk about his trips to you, explaining the history and geography of the planets he has traveled to you when he comes back
↺ He would draw a small map for you to understand the general location of the places he’s visited
↻ You’d be excited to learn about what places he’s seen and you’d ask him a myriad of questions to which he’d patiently listen and answer 
↺ The thought of Ratio being patient with a young child warms my heart, this is how he’d find out that maybe he can tolerate specific kids
↻ Ratio reading stories to you to help you fall asleep, but those stories would probably be academic books he uses to teach his students
↻ If you were to get in trouble for blowing something up, he’d show his disappointment and sternly give you a punishment that isn’t too harsh on you (he’d give you school work lol)
↺ Ratio would check in on you here and there when you’re in your room, if he finds that you’re asleep he’d tuck you in before looking over your work
↺ This makes me think of Ratio walking in to see that you had drawn him an artwork of the both of you with Dodoco (who he came to know as your prized friend)
↻ Ratio doesn’t have a clue who your parents or guardians are, so he tries to locate them at first to no avail (he ends up pretty much adopting you as his own kid)
↻ Sometimes you’d sit near his desk in his lecture hall when he was teaching his students, swinging your legs back and forth as you eyed everyone in the room
↺ His students find you adorable and get distracted by your presence at first before their professor sends them a chalk their way
↺ His students give you little gifts or snacks as they leave the room, a part of them hoping that Ratio’s rampage on his grade book will be softened by your happiness at the gifts you received
↺ He finds out what his students are doing, but lets them do it anyway since it’s making you happy (he’d probably set some limits though before you get way too much stuff)
-----
Veritas had just finished up his lecture with his students, organizing their work into neat stacks on one side of his desk. Once the last student had left his classroom, he took off his plaster head and sat it in front of him. In his peripheral vision, he saw a small empty chair to the left of his desk. It was where you normally sat. 
The violet-haired man was then reminded of your absence due to the sudden sickness you had caught the day before. With a sigh, he turned back towards the ungraded stacks of paper on his desk and got to work. He’d try to be home before midnight. 
…..
By the time he finished, it was already 9. Walking out of the campus, he was met with the emptiness the night brought with it. Students were already long gone, the handful of teachers that had stayed late already packed up and left for dinner, but he was running a bit late. So with a brisk pace, he set off in the direction of his home, the cool night air hitting his skin.
Once Veritas reached his destination, he quickly unlocked the door and went inside, the warmth of his home greeting him. His shoulders fell, the weight that had been put upon himself leaving his body as he could see a faint light coming from your room. 
Slipping off his outerwear, he quietly walked across the hardwood floors and stopped outside of your bedroom door. Veritas listened for any signs that you might be awake, but nothing. He placed his hand on the door and gently pushed it open so he was able to enter. 
You had left your bedside lamp on, with a couple of papers and crayons scattered across the desk you normally drew at. His eyes had landed on your small, curled-up form, snoring away beneath the comforters of your bed. He softly chuckled to himself, walking towards your bed and lifting the blanket so it reached your shoulders. You had stirred but only shuffled to get comfortable. Placing a small kiss on your forehead, Veritas got up to put away the crayons and papers you had left out.
While picking up and putting away the crayons in the correct order that was directed on the box, the bright, grainy colors on a paper caught his eye. He gently picked up a piece of paper that you seemed to have been working on while he was gone. It was a drawing of the both of you in a field of flowers, your best friend, Dodoco, in between the both of you. Veritas had to admit that it was cute, a small smile appearing on his face before he gathered the rest of your drawings and slid them into a folder. 
When he had finished making sure that everything was neatly put away, Veritas moved to turn off the lamp, wishing you sweet dreams. 
-----
⋘ ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇ! ⋙
note - hey ya'll.. nice weather we've got here... 😀 i really need to blast through my requests-- wearesobackipromise.
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babygazette · 2 days
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Please can we get more soccer mom and rafe??<3
RIGHT UNDER THE DOG’S NOSE
synopsis : sequel to done deal. weeks after your deal with coach cameron, you’re pregnant. with your libido through the roof, rafe helps you out and you two figure out future plans.
pairing : coach!rafe x soccermom!reader
warnings : minors dni, 18+ smut, mean husband, cheating (again fuck cheating, don’t do it), pregnant sex, p in v, reader calls rafe ‘coach’ like once, cheating while in the same house as the husband, unprotected sex
word count : 2,119
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📠 📰 ────────*𑁍༘⋆ ────────
coach cameron stands there watching the game with his arms crossed and his legs wide in an intimidating stance, he chews on a piece of gum while his eyes slowly wander from the boys running around to you. he smirks at you, sending you a wink that makes every other mom around you start giggling like teenage girls. you keep eye contact while grinning at him, almost wanting to blow him a kiss to let everyone know that he’s yours but that ring on your finger stops you, so does the fact that your son is on the field just right there. it’s been a few weeks since you said yes and making that deal with coach cameron was one of the best decisions of your life. it solved so many of your problems– your husband was no longer running his mouth (about your son at least), your son looked a lot happier, and he gets along with rafe quite well. 
the most important thing is you actually got to cum almost every week unlike before where it was once a month if you were lucky. rafe fucked you anywhere and everywhere he could: his office, the janitor closet, one time in the locker room, his house, any other secretive place you could possibly think of. therefore it's not much of a surprise when the stick has two vibrant red lines confirming that you were indeed pregnant. 
you let out a deep exhale before leaving the bathroom with the test in your hand over to where your husband lounged on the couch. you know your son’s asleep, it's midnight, but you still check anyway. once you are sure that the coast is clear, you clear your throat to get your husband’s attention, “honey?” his eyes are too focused on the bright tv, his face being illuminated by the flashing television and nothing else. you roll your eyes at him, before trying to get his attention again by tapping his shoulder. “fuck, what do you want? how many times do i have to tell you not to bother me when i’m watching?” he scolds you, only giving you one scornful look, you smile but your thoughts are anything but polite. what a sleazeball. 
“honey, i have something important to tell you.” you step in front of his view with the sweetest expression on your face, your husband groans but decides to listen begrudgingly. i'm having an affair with our son’s coach and “i'm pregnant!” with rafe’s baby probably. you didn't know his facial expression could look more annoyed until now. “you’re messing with me, you managed to get pregnant from one time? the fuck is wrong with you?” he doesn’t seem to have a clue that there's a possibility of it being another man’s. maybe because he’s too arrogant to assume he got cheated on. “you’re not happy?” you pout, tilting your head at him, you really couldn’t care less what he thought.
“no, i'm not jumping with joy at something that’ll drain my damn money. jesus christ, i'm going on a drive. it's all on you, not like i'll be taking care of it.” you watch as he collects his coat and slams the door shut, he’s definitely going to the bar which gives you about two hours maybe? you stare at the television and exhale in relief that he was finally gone, a divorce lawyer commercial? funny. you turn off the screen before wandering back to your shared bedroom and slumping on to the plush comfort of your mattress. the whole house is so silent, it’s nice but it leaves you in your thoughts. you glance at the positive pregnancy test still in your hand before sliding your phone off the nightstand, you dial up a number. ring, ring, ring–
“hello?” he picks up after a few rings, his voice all groggy and deep from his slumber. you bite your lip before speaking up, “hey.” almost instantly you hear shuffling from his side once he realizes it’s you. “hey, something happen? do i have to come get you?” rafe lets his words stumble over each other as concern washes over him because you don’t usually call this late. you grin at his cute worry and shake your head even though he can’t see it. “mmh.. just miss you is all.” you hear his raspy chuckle that makes your heartbeat a lot quicker. “no, you don’t. i can hear that sly tone in your voice, baby. my boys try to trick me everyday, you think i don’t know that voice?” he scoffs over the phone before he softens up again, “tell me.”
“i’m pregnant.” you finally say and there’s a very long pause. the silence is killing you, nibbling anxiously on your bottom lip, begging that he’s gonna be happy. “i’m coming over.” he blurts out, you furrow your eyebrows in utter disbelief because that was way too risky for him to do so casually. “what, rafe? someone might se—“ a click of the line and the call ends right then and there. what just happened? you sit there on your bed, thinking about what just transpired, it’s not the time for this. he’s actually coming here when you had no precise idea when your husband was coming home. you rush out of the room, checking to make sure your son was not gonna wake up any time soon, seems alright. you pace around the living room as you await rafe’s sudden visit because his reaction was too unreadable. was he glad or was he angry? not a clue.
minutes later, you hear heavy knocks: it sounds urgent almost, you look through the peephole to see rafe but he was less put together than normal. this was a terrifying sight but you open the door anyway. your eyes widen as rafe immediately wraps his arms around you in a tight hug. “it’s real right? you’re actually pregnant? don’t— don’t tell me i came all the way over here for no reason.” he kneels down instantly to feel your stomach which is barely even growing a bump. “yes, it’s real. i still have to go to the doctors to confirm but knowing how my first one went. i’m sure.” he looks up at you and gets up with his hands holding onto yours. his eyes, those ocean eyes are killing you, you haven’t seen eyes that full of love in forever. “i’m gonna take care of you. i’m gonna take real good care of you and this baby, you– you understand? fuckin’ hell, baby!” rafe cheers in happiness, walking around the room with his palms over his eyes.
────────*𑁍༘⋆ ────────
rafe stayed true to his word. in the past two months, he went to every appointment that your husband didn’t, constantly checked on you, when your husband wasn't home; rafe would come over and help you in any way he could. your husband was clueless. the only thing that frustrated you was he hadn’t fucked you in forever and now you were too horny, currently in your second trimester, you desperately needed to get off. 
so that’s why you’re desperately grinding against rafe’s lap in your living room at the dead of night with your husband and son sleeping just upstairs. “hey– shit– you said there was an emergency.” rafe tilts his head back onto the couch and holds onto your hips tightly. “it is an emergency!” you whine out, needily rolling your hips on his growing bulge, “it hurts, rafe, pleasee..”
he groans and his hands try to stop your movements in distress. “baby, you can’t do this to me— c’mon. you’re pregnant. i— i can’t be..” rafe pauses his scolding when he feels how you’re soaking his pants. he did promise he’d take care of you. “alright, alright! you want dick so badly? gonna be a needy little mama?” he holds you up on his lap while his other hand unbuttons his pants hastily. rafe slides his pants and boxers down, stroking it quickly before he slips his fingers to your drooling pussy. “fuck.. it’s soaked, baby. needed me to fuck you in his house, huh? i’m not doing anything. you want it, you do it.” he leans back against the couch, settling into the plush cushions and watching you squirm.
like a flip of a switch, you’re bouncing on his cock, moans slipping past your pouty lips. your slick causing easy access, he’s filling you up just how you needed. everytime his cock would slip out from how wet you were, you pushed it back in greedily. “jesus, calm down. know you want it, baby. don’t forget where we are.” he grunts out, cupping your face in his hand, thumb slipping into your mouth to muffle your mewls. 
“love it, coach..” you babble around his thumb, words coming out in a slur, he chuckles at you. “gotta call me that in bed? dirty girl.” he teases you but rafe knows he loves it too. you’re riding him like there’s no tomorrow, somehow gathering a huge amount of stamina that left as soon as you became pregnant. his other hand guides your hips up and down his cock. 
you needed it so badly and now that you have it: you can’t stop. the pregnancy fatigue is catching up with you soon enough and now you’re just relying on rafe’s hand to help you ride him. he notices that you’ve slowed down a lot and flips you onto your back. he said that he’d do nothing but he can’t help it, rafe’s gotta ease your pain. his hips slowly roll into you while he tries to keep his body uplifted to not crush you. one hand holding him up and the other still in your mouth. rafe can tell you’re close now by the way your eyes roll back and your whines increase in volume. your walls flutter around his shaft causing him to groan, his hands slipping to your sensitive clit, aiding you to your orgasm. “cum for me, baby. come on. let it all out, i got you.” he coos at you and soon enough you were creaming on his cock, rafe following soon after. 
“all good?” rafe questions and you nod sleepily, he gives you a kiss before sliding down to kiss your growing baby bump. he puts his pants back up and cleans you up carefully with the tissue by the coffee table as you get yourself together. “when your water breaks, you call me alright? i want to be there. and if that guy tries anything i’ll stop it.” rafe brings up suddenly, tossing the dirty tissue somewhere, pulling you back onto his lap. he taps your cheek lightly to make sure you’re listening to him. the seriousness of the topic snaps you out of your after daze and you smile at him, “mhm, got it.” he grins back at you once you confirm, looking down to adore your future child. 
a few seconds of cuddling pass and you were getting sleepy, wanting nothing more than to sleep here with him on this couch. you can’t though and you know that. “i gotta go, baby, before they wake up. think you can handle yourself?” rafe asks, not wanting to leave either but he has to. you get up from his lap unwillingly and nod at him that you were gonna be okay. he gets up with a sigh and leads you by the waist to the door. you follow him out, wanting to spend every small second together. 
rafe turns around once he’s out the door and gives your hip a gentle squeeze. “you leave him and you come to me.” he whispers to you and tilts your chin up, his eyes telling you not to argue back. you do, of course.  “but—“ you aren’t even sure why you hesitated either. “no buts, the fuck you need to stay with him for?” your son, you think to yourself but don’t say because he’s right. you’ve been checked out of this marriage a long time ago and the only reason why you stayed was for your son. now that you have rafe, it was time. “m’kay.” you agree and he gives you a nod, kissing your cheek again. “get back inside, it's cold.” rafe ushers you inside and doesn’t leave until he makes sure you’re inside the house. 
you get back into bed, back to your husband as he snores, that night you dream about rafe playing with your son in his backyard while you hold your baby girl. rafe comes over to you with a smile and takes the baby in his arms, bouncing her while he coos at her. 
a new shiny ring with a pretty diamond on your hand. 
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deathbecomesthem · 1 day
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linecook!Eddie Munson x server!reader | 1K
*not proofread, just thrown together and offered into the Tumblr void.
You’ve come to look forward to the slow days. Even with less bills lining your pocket, you still walk out of the diner with a smile on your face. The slow days are when you get to talk to Eddie. He sits with you at the counter and rolls silverware with you - one roll of his for every three of yours. Your hands move automatically, no need to watch the flashing of knives, forks, and spoons. Eddie’s eyes stay on the napkin as he works. And you watch him.
“...that racoon really had it out for me. I had no idea they could hold a grudge like that.” Eddie’s telling a story, he tells a lot of stories. You missed the first part of it, hypnotized by the way his lips form words. He didn’t shave this morning, you can see short bristles above his lip and know exactly how it would feel to run your finger along them.
“I’m sorry,” you put your hand up, halting his speech, “rewind. I zoned out. Start over.”
Eddie laughs, and you take note of the way his smile cuts into his cheeks. You could curl up in those lines, take a nap in his dimples. “I can’t believe you’d disrespect Frank the Racoon like that. Be careful, or you’ll end up on his shit list too.”
“Well, tell me. What did you do to Frank? It must have been bad if he’s got a vendetta against you.” Eddie looks up at you, and you dart your eyes to the silverware tray between the two of you as if you had not been staring at him for the last several minutes. 
“I didn’t do anything. Not on purpose. Frank is unreasonable, he always has been.” Eddie sighs, and resumes his slow and purposeful work. He picks up a knife, sets it on the napkin in front of him, and then a fork, and then a spoon. You risk a look up at him and find his eyes cast down on the set in front of him. “Frank’s been hanging around outside my place for a while now. I couldn’t sleep on night about 6 months ago and found him eating the cat food I leave on the porch-”
“You leave cat food on your porch? Do you have a cat?” You break in, desperate to know if he has a feline pal. He’s never talked about one.
“What? No, I don’t have a cat, per se. There are cats that hang around my place, and I feed them. Kermit, Jonesy, Mint, and Jelly - but we’re talking about Frank right now.” Eddie looks up and points a spoon at your face to emphasize his point. You tilt your head in acceptance, and he continues, “Anyway, so I’ve been feeding the cats salmon flavored Whiskas for years now. I’ve never heard any complaints, and Frank was obviously enjoying it too. About 4 weeks ago, the Kroger on Harris stopped carrying it.”
At this point, you’re really listening with interest. You want to know how this story can end with a racoon plotting Eddie’s demise. You reach into the tray to grab a fork, and Eddie’s hand goes for one at the same time. A rare brush of fingers has you pulling your hand away from his as if you’ve been burned. 
“Sorry,” an automatic apology stumbles from your lips. A stupid thing to be sorry over, because Eddie doesn’t even seem to register that small touch, “please go on.”
“Well, I had to start buying the chicken flavored Whiskas. It took me a couple of days to realize the food wasn’t going as fast as it normally does. One morning, on my way to the van, I saw him. Frank was sitting just in the shadows with his little hands held together. I wasn’t watching where I was walking, looking at the way his eyes kind of flickered at me. It was kind of creepy, he looked downright menacing. Just as I made it to the van door, my foot kind of skidded.”
Eddie’s stopped rolling silverware completely. He’s talking with his hands, motioning to show the way his foot slipped. His eyes are wide, as if disbelieving his own story.
“Ok, your foot slipped. What’s that got to do with good ole Frank?” you ask, diverting Eddie’s attention back to you.
“That son of a bitch shit right outside of my van door. And I know what you’re thinking, ‘Eddie, you can’t prove it was the racoon’,” Eddie’s fully mimicking your voice in a rather unflattering way, offering an argument you did, in fact, start churning in your mind, “but that little fucker laughed. Well, it was a squeaky sound that I assume is a raccoon laugh.” Eddie waves his hand as if to shoo the idea of it away, “I know it was him. And I know it was because he doesn’t like the chicken Whiskas.”
“You know? Hmm. Ok, sure. I accept your version of events. Have you tried apologizing?”
“Oh, I apologized. I even started driving to the other side of town to get the salmon Whiskas after 6 straight days of raccoon shit waiting for me outside the van’s door. I even started parking it in a new spot, but there it was - more shit.” 
“Oh, I’d like to meet Frank, he seems tenacious,” you say absently, not thinking about what meeting Eddie’s raccoon friend would entail, “and the cats. I love cats, but my landlord won’t allow them.”
“Well, you should come over and meet them. All of them. Don’t worry, I flea treat the cats once a month, and I had them all fixed.” 
Eddie’s invitation is something that’s never been done before. He has invited you to do something with him outside of work. You open your mouth to respond, you have no idea what will come out, when the bell at the front door jingles.
It’s the first customer you’ve seen in 2 hours, and Eddie’s gone back to the kitchen before you have a chance to realize the invitation was never accepted. It just hangs there, over the silverware tray.
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ginnsbaker · 2 days
Text
fic: if i bleed (you'll be the last to know) (8/?)
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Part summary: Leigh heads off to Palm Springs with Danny, while you grapple with what to do about your feelings for her.
Pairing: Leigh Shaw x Fem!Reader, temporary Leigh x Danny | Word count for this part: 5.000+ | Warnings : Slight angst | Author's Note: No, I did not forget about Danny still not being honest with Leigh and R not tattling on Danny. Just let these loose ends dangle for a while. Anyway, enjoy! :)
Masterlist | Part I Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII
-
The morning after you gave Leigh a puppy for her birthday, your phone is flooded with texts from her, filled with questions ranging from vaccine schedules to the best chew toys. She shares a story about how Rogue, their previous dog, had always been Matt’s, and how she often felt left out of his care. Now, with Logan, she feels a full sense of ownership and is eager to get everything right.
You still flinch slightly whenever she mentions her late husband. It’s as if she forgets that you and Matt had something significant too, as if you weren't once the secret he kept close. Sometimes, you wish you could just erase his presence, simplify everything about your relationship with Leigh. 
But you recognize that it’s selfish to wish him away, because Matt was a significant part of Leigh’s life, a major influence on who she has become. And who she is today is a lovely person—someone you've come to admire very deeply.
[6:20 AM] Leigh: Logan’s an angel, slept through the night.
[6:35 AM] Leigh: So, house training... how do I make sure Logan doesn’t turn my bed into his personal bathroom like he did five seconds ago?
You grimace at the message, picturing the hassle of laundering the sheets and possibly needing to call a cleaning service for the mattress.
[6:54 AM] Leigh: And shots? Rogue was all up to date because Matt was on it, but I’m clueless. Where do I start?
As you work your espresso machine, a grin spreads across your face, the kind that makes you feel like a complete fool but in the best possible way.
[6:56 AM] You: Good morning! You’re lucky I don’t bill for text consultations 😆
You typically charge $18 for a twenty-minute chat with a client.
[6:58 AM] Leigh: Oh. How much do I owe you? I want to pay.
Your smile falters a little at her missing your joke.
[6:58 AM] You: I was just kidding. Your texts are more than welcome, Leigh.
Feeling bold, you follow that up with something you've been wanting to make clear since last night.
[6:59 AM] You: This is what friends are for, right?
Waiting for Leigh’s reply feels like an eternity, and you're about to send another text to walk back your hint at friendship when your phone vibrates.
[7:00 AM] Leigh: I’d feel better paying. Can I drop by the clinic later?
Reading her message, you're hit with a rush—excited at the thought of seeing her, yet downhearted she's talking about paying, as if that's what's between you. But then, those little typing dots appear. You're practically holding your breath.
[7:00 AM] Leigh: We’re friends, which is why I’m paying.
It's a good thing you don't have a roommate, or else you'd never get away with grinning like an idiot at your phone. It's a bit ridiculous, you think, how high school this all feels—waiting for a glimpse, a moment, anything.
[7:01 AM] You: Absolutely, come by anytime. Looking forward to it 🙂
You hit send and lean back, trying to act like you didn't just have a mini celebration over a text. 
And then, spurred by Leigh texting you first thing in the morning, you decide to add her on your social media accounts. You spend an extra fifteen minutes getting ready that morning, simply because you lingered longer in the shower, listening to songs that remind you of Leigh and how this crush is dangerously close to becoming something uncontainable.
-
[10:13 AM] Notification: Leigh accepted your friend request.
-
As it turns out, Leigh is a serial texter. 
It’s odd, really. For someone who might come across as reclusive and somewhat untouchable, she is surprisingly talkative over text. The messages start coming in more frequently after this morning's exchange, just moments after you've finally left home to drive to your clinic. What's even more interesting is that this time, they're not about Logan.
And they’re all unusually random and unrelated to one another: memes that make you laugh out loud, articles on topics ranging from the philosophical implications of artificial intelligence to the best way to juicing recipes. You find yourself waiting for these messages, eager to see what tangent Leigh's mind has wandered off to now. You get into it, dissecting the articles she sends over with the seriousness of a scholar. You type back your thoughts, trying to sound as insightful as possible, maybe even a bit witty, hoping to impress her. You imagine this might be her way of initiating deeper, intellectual conversations between you two.
So, when you send back a paragraph or two analyzing the latest article she's shared, maybe touching on its impacts on modern society or offering a counterpoint to the author's thesis, Leigh's responses aren’t what you expect. Instead of engaging with the discussion, she sends a  simple thumbs-up emoji or, even more baffling, a random factoid about her day, like her opinion on the Kani salad from a sushi bar near the Beautiful Beast gym.
[12:15 PM] Leigh: [sent a photo] Just some store-bought crab sticks and diluted mayo. Don’t try it. Their saké though is 👌👌👌
You wonder why she’s having Japanese rice wine this early in the day.
[12:22 PM] You: Thanks for the heads up. I know a place for authentic Japanese food. You want to check it out with me some time?
Your text remains unseen for the rest of the afternoon.
-
You find yourself staring intently at the wall clock in your clinic, keenly aware of each minute slipping by, and with it, the dwindling chance of Leigh arriving before the doors lock for the day. As it nears 8 in the evening, Suzie is already wrapped up in her end-of-day tasks across the lobby. Leaning your cheek on your palm, you watch blankly as she meticulously arranges her desk, perfectly aligning each item, then moves on to gently pull the blinds closed on each window.
Suzie’s not blind. She throws you these knowing glances every time you let out one of your heavy sighs. Finally, after you've probably sighed loud enough to be heard next door, she stops what she's doing and plants herself in front of you.
“What’s going on?” she asks.
You try to look puzzled. “Nothing. Why?”
Suzie rolls her eyes. “Please, you’ve been mooning over that clock and sighing like you’re carrying the world on your shoulders. What’s up?”
You crack a smile, partly at her description, partly from being caught moping like a lovesick teenager. “It’s just… I thought maybe Leigh would come by. She said she would,” you say, wincing at yourself when the last part comes out a bit whiny. 
Without missing a beat, Suzie pivots from her closing duties and makes her way over to you. 
She’s not delicate with you this time. “You’re doing that thing again. Waiting around for something that’s probably not gonna happen. It’s not doing you any good.”
You know she's hitting the nail on the head, but it's tough to swallow.
Suzie continues, “You're young, you're attractive, and it's honestly weird that you're pining over your ex's ex. At first, I thought it was kind of adorable, in a bizarre, romantic-comedy kind of way. But now, it's like you're always hung up and disappointed.”
“Thanks for saying I’m young when I’m five years older than you,” you say with a sheepish smile, hiding your disappointment that she isn’t saying the things you want to hear, such as the possibility that Leigh just got busy.
Suzie shakes her head in disapproval. She's fed up, and her next words aren't going to be sugar-coated. “Snap out of it!” she barks, the command hitting you like a cold splash of water, and you jerk back in your chair, wide-eyed. Seeing you shrink back, quivering, she softens a bit and shifts back to the harmless receptionist you’re used to.
“Look at me, Y/N,” Suzie says, ensuring she has your full attention. You manage to meet her gaze, even though your eyelids feel heavy. “It's not fair to Leigh, either. You're giving meaning to everything she does—or doesn't do. It's putting her in an impossible situation. And honestly, it's not fair to you. You're missing out on your own life, waiting for someone who... well, who might never show up the way you want her to.”
Suzie knows she’s being tough, but sometimes love means being the friend who won’t let you settle for anything less than you deserve.
“I hear you, okay? It’s just… it’s the way I’m wired. I latch onto a person like a leech, refusing to let go until I see it through,” you mutter, shielding your face with your hands, a bit ashamed to even say it out loud. You get so tunnel-visioned, missing out on maybe better things and experiences because you're stuck on one track. You fall hard for your choices, never by chance.
“Good. You know what’s wrong with you,” Suzie says softly. 
You let out a weak chuckle, the sound tinged with a bit of self-mockery. You're half-hidden behind your hands, peeking out at Suzie as if she's got all the answers. Suzie pries your fingers away from your face and then pinches your cheek so hard, you start to whine a bit.
“Ow! What was that for?” you protest, rubbing your assaulted cheek.
“That's for being a pathetic little bitch.”
“Excuse me, I'm still the one signing your paychecks,” you shoot back, trying to sound offended but it’s hard to keep a straight face.
“Sure thing, boss,” she laughs, and you join in. 
“Okay, so what do you suggest I do then?” you ask as the last of your chuckles die down.
“Go on a date,” comes her swift response. “All that stuff they say about love finding you when you're not looking? Biggest lie ever.”
You look at her curiously, assessing her physical features. “W-With you?”
“Dude, no! Not with me!” Suzie exclaims, laughing nervously. “I mean, sure, I'd take you out if you weren't my boss, but I don't see that happening anytime soon unless you fire me.”
“Got it, got it,” you say, still chuckling. Suzie realizes too late that you were just teasing her and huffs. “Not with you. But seriously, go on a date? Just like that?”
“Yeah. Just meet someone.”
“You make it sound like it’s easy.”
“Because it is,” she says with a shrug. “Here. Give me your phone.”
-
Leigh doesn’t know what to do with the fact that you may or may not have feelings for her. 
So, she does what she does best: Pretend.
Leigh pretends you’re not EspressoEyes. In her mind, it could just be a coincidence, and you might not be the person who wrote to her advice column. Without any concrete evidence, she holds onto this notion, using it as a shield to fend off the uncertainties and doubts that would follow if she believed otherwise.
Leigh pretends because she needs your help to figure out how to care for Logan. Because maybe she wants to be friends. When you join her for a run, you don’t press for conversation, a rare companion who's not afraid of silence. Having you around feels like having Matt around, in a way that she's reminded of him when you talk about the same things you like, the same books you've read, and the same music you listen to. 
Leigh pretends it doesn’t bother her in case you are EspressoEyes. She’s no stranger to turning heads as she walks down the street, accustomed to the attention. There's a certain power in being desired, and Leigh revels in it. But the idea of you liking her doesn't quite make sense to her; it's like trying to fit a square peg into a round hole. It’s not because you’re a woman—she’s been with women before. What Leigh can't wrap her head around is that you, of all people, could actually be into her. After all, she hasn’t exactly been her most charming self since you two met. Even her best friend is keeping a cautious distance. She’s been wearing down the people closest to her, those who are supposed to like her the most.
And this bewilderment doesn't sit well with Leigh. She is someone who thrives on understanding, on knowing where she stands with people and why. So, when pretending isn’t enough, she does what she does second-best: Avoid.
She must have been waiting in her car outside your clinic for the better part of the evening, debating with herself about what to do next. She's parked just out of view, positioned so she can see the clinic entrance without being too conspicuous. She hasn't eaten dinner yet, her stomach growling, but she remains glued to her spot across from where she knows you're waiting for her.
Ever since you subtly asked her out through text, she’s been on edge, second-guessing her actions (texting and sharing posts on the internet with you all morning, what was she thinking?) and wondering what they might have meant to you. Leigh didn’t mean to leave you hanging—she did come to your clinic, sort of. She remembers typing out a response to you, something witty and non-committal, but her finger hovered over the ‘send’ button before pulling back. It felt like too much, too soon. She needed time to think, to figure out why the idea of checking out authentic Japanese food with you left her feeling so conflicted inside.
Leigh's guilt gnaws at her as she sits there, wrestling with how to extricate herself without causing further confusion—or worse, hurt. Eventually, it all comes to a head. She finally gives in, typing out a message to you on her phone with a shaky urgency.
[7:53 PM] Leigh: I'm so sorry, something came up. I can't make it to the clinic after all.
Your reply comes quickly, much to her astonishment, especially since she hadn't opened your message all afternoon.
[7:54 PM] You: It's fine, don't worry about it. I can have Logan's supplies delivered to your place if that works better for you.
Reading your text, Leigh bites her lip, another surge of guilt washing over her. Your kindness, your willingness to accommodate her, only complicates this predicament further.
[7:54 PM] Leigh: Yes, that would be great, thank you.
[7:54 PM] Leigh: How much do I owe you?
As she starts nibbling at her cuticle, Leigh is eager to resolve at least the financial aspect of her obligation. Though she knows she owes you so much more than just Logan’s supplies.
[7:56 PM] You: Like I said, it's on the house. But just this time ☺️
It’s still too generous. But Leigh knows better than to argue further, concerned that insisting might hurt your feelings.
[7:56 PM] Leigh: Thank you. I won’t forget this.
[7:57 PM] You: 😊😊😊
Leigh sighs, remembering her promise that you could visit Logan anytime. She hopes you won’t take her up on that offer too soon, at least not until she has a chance to sort herself out.
-
Danny isn’t too bad once you get to know him. That's what Leigh learns after more than two months of dating him. 
Initially, Leigh wasn't sure what to make of Danny. Their shared wit and sarcasm often put them at odds, like two alphas vying for the upper hand, each one not willing to back down, always aiming for the last word. Yet, in their calmer moments, when the competitive edge fades and they're just enjoying each other's company, Leigh finds something unexpectedly comforting about being with him. He has this confidence about himself that Matt never had, knowing exactly what he wants—and that's her. His straightforward approach makes everything about being with him feel predictable. And lately, she's starting to see predictability as a good thing, a sign of stability. This is a welcome change from the uncertainty that often left her anxious about the future. Plus, all these traits spill over into the bedroom, making the sex between them feel effortless and satisfying in a way she’s never experienced before.
Despite all this, there are days when Leigh finds herself merely tolerating Danny's affections. A part of her remains tightly locked, still bruised from losing Matt, and she's not sure if those doors should—or even can—open again. To compensate, she often says yes when she can, whenever her mood permits her to be giving and amenable.
And it is exactly why she says yes when Danny asks her to go to Palm Springs with him this weekend. 
-
The getaway feels like an extended lazy morning where the concept of time blurs into insignificance. They drift from one hotel restaurant to another, luxuriating in the art of doing absolutely nothing. This routine isn't new to them; it’s the same one they slip into whether they’re at Danny’s apartment or Leigh’s place—only now, the scenery is different, and the sheets they tangle in are expensively soft, boasting a thread count far beyond anything either of them owns at home. 
They're lounging by the pool, sipping Margaritas—Leigh with a book in hand and Danny absorbed in his phone—when your name comes up in conversation.
“So, how are things between you and Y/N?” Danny asks, not looking up from his phone.
Leigh stiffens slightly. She carefully moderates her tone, her face schooled into an expression of indifference as she marks her page and looks over at him. “What about me and Y/N?”
“I don't know... are you guys friends now?”
If Leigh weren’t so preoccupied with her own personal concerns about you, she might have recognized the underlying worry his question poses. What he's actually trying to figure out is whether you've come clean to Leigh about his role in Matt’s secret affair with you.
“Yeah, I guess we are,” she says. To say otherwise would be a lie, because you’ve been nothing but good to her. Danny seems satisfied with this answer, nodding before returning his attention to his phone.
“Why do you ask?”
“Just wondering,” he mumbles. He's back to mindless scrolling, but Leigh can sense the tension from two feet away. 
“No, tell me,” Leigh insists, placing her book on the side table between them with a definitive thud. Danny mirrors her actions, setting his phone face down and turning to her with a seriousness that clashes with their otherwise relaxed afternoon.
“I just don't get why you'd be friends with Matt's mistress,” he blurts out suddenly. 
Leigh is taken aback. They've never fully discussed what transpired between you and Matt, so she hadn't realized he was paying such close attention to her interactions with you. Believing that he wasn't privy to all the details, she quickly jumps to your defense.
“Y/N didn’t even know Matt was married to me,” she explains, trying to clarify the misunderstanding and protect your integrity.
“Yeah? And you just took her word for it?” Danny doesn’t bother to hide his skepticism, and it irks Leigh more than usual. She doesn't understand why every conversation with Danny has to turn into a challenge or an argument.
“There’s no evidence to suggest otherwise,” Leigh replies, her voice tightening as she struggles to keep her frustration in check. “I mean, I even went through your phone to see what Matt had been saying to you, and there was nothing there indicating that Y/N knew he was married.”
Danny feels a lump form in his throat. Fortunately for him, Matt hadn't mentioned anything in their texts about Danny being Nick either. He has been debating whether to disclose his role in everything to Leigh. But things between them have gotten serious, and Danny's not so sure he should come clean. Part of him wants to delay—perhaps until they are married with kids, when he's more certain that Leigh won't leave him over a past mistake.
“Look, I'm not saying don’t trust her, but... she used to be in love with Matt, right? You don't think there's a chance she resents you even a little?” 
Leigh stops for a second, Danny's words prompting her to consider aspects she hadn't really thought about before. Wrapped up in her own insecurities, jealousy, and pain when she discovered the truth about you, she had never stopped to consider your perspective—how you might have felt learning that the man you had feelings for was married. Did you feel just as fooled and stung as she did? The thought bounces around her head for a moment. From what she can recall, nothing in your behavior has ever suggested that you're a bitter ex. But then, what if you're just exceptionally good at masking your feelings?
Do you really like her, or is it all an act—a scheme?
But then, she remembers the night you gave her Logan, how your smile was nothing but warm, your eyes bright with something that, looking back, Leigh realizes might have been admiration. Not even Danny looks at her like that, whose gaze is always bridling yearning and a desire to possess. Leigh shakes her head, almost laughing at the thought of Danny being right about you.
“Danny, honestly,” Leigh finally says, trying to put an end to the discussion, “if what you're saying is true, I can handle it myself.” It seems the quickest way to close this topic, knowing that debating it could easily consume their entire afternoon and completely derail the purpose of their vacation.
“But doesn't it hurt, having her around? Like a reminder that Matt went for someone else?” He's playing on a different fear now, not questioning your integrity, but poking at the scars Leigh's tried so hard to heal. 
Leigh wants to admit the pain never went away. She’s merely learned to co-exist with it. It's like the weather for her: on some days, her mind is a landscape of clear skies, but when the storm hits, it's relentless. For now, she chooses to keep this pain private, unwilling to give anyone the leverage to use it against her or even attempt to fix her. It's her burden to bear, and hers alone.
“No,” Leigh answers, reaching for her book again. “I don’t see it that way anymore.”
Leigh ends her nearly year-long social media hiatus by posting a series of photos from her Palm Springs vacation with Danny. Sharing such personal moments publicly is uncharacteristic for her, especially given her minimal online presence over the past months. Maybe it felt like sending a message to everyone that she’s doing okay. That they can go back to seeing her as just Leigh again—a single, actively dating woman in her early thirties—not as the young widow she was in her late twenties.
Danny's friends are the first to swarm the comments. They tag Danny, peppering the feed with teasing remarks, their comments ranging from jokes about the desert heat to compliments on the couple's sun-drenched physique. It's all typical, light-hearted friend banter, until one comment sharply disrupts the mood: 
“Yo, isn't that your brother's wife?”
Leigh deletes the comment within seconds of seeing it.
A few hours later, you ‘like’ her post. Leigh's eyes fix unblinkingly on the notification. She's been idly wondering if you'd seen the post, and now, you’ve confirmed it yourself. But what does that ‘like’ mean?
Is it a nod of approval, a silent indication that you're happy for her? Regardless of what it means, Leigh discovers she was sending another message—one that’s exclusively for you. It tells you that whether you're EspressoEyes, whether you harbor any feelings for her or not, it no longer matters.
She's with Danny now.
-
Returning from Palm Springs, Leigh feels different—like she’s turned a corner or something. She feels refreshed, and she wants to take on something, such as Drew’s grievances about her advice column. She picks one to start with, something about anniversary ideas, and she's got the perfect story for this.
It was one of those anniversaries with Matt, the kind that stands out from the rest of his surprises because it's so quintessentially him—albeit a little nerdy. He took her away from the city's glare to a secluded spot where the sky was a blanket of stars, untainted by artificial light. After laying out a rug for them to both settle on, he began the painstaking process of setting up a rather complex telescope. It took him nearly an hour, but the wait just made the moment even more special. With the telescope finally ready, Matt pulled out this old, crinkly constellation map and started hunting for one specific star. It was one of the last times Leigh remembered them being truly happy—deeply in love, free from the shadows of Matt’s depression, Leigh’s instinct to fix things, and the small lies that slowly eroded their relationship.
When he finally located it, he excitedly guided her to peer through the telescope. There it is—a tiny speck of light, but it's theirs. Matt turned to her with a bashful smile and revealed that he had 'bought' that star for her.
Leigh shares this story with her reader, emphasizing that it's about understanding what truly moves your partner. For her, it was that star—simple, unexpected, and insanely romantic. She tells her reader to find that one-of-a-kind thing, that personal touch that says “I love you” in a way that can only come from them. Just like Matt did with a star and a starry night.
It's only after she closes her laptop that Leigh realizes tears have been streaming down her face.
-
“We’ve got to stop meeting like this.”
It takes a moment to recognize who you've just bumped into. This encounter isn't as jarring as the last; it’s merely a brush of shoulders as you both maneuver to avoid incoming traffic. That ‘incoming traffic’ turns out to be none other than Leigh Shaw.
She's beaming up at you, and it looks genuine despite the sparse interactions since she last canceled on you. You’re still catching your breath, your heart racing from the speed of your run and something else entirely.
“At least I didn’t make you crash on the pavement this time. I'd say that’s significant progress,” you quip, drawing a soft laugh from Leigh. Last week, you made the firm decision to compartmentalize your feelings for Leigh, resolving to see her strictly as a friend. Yet, when faced with reality, such resolutions seem trivial, particularly when that reality includes Leigh smiling at you with her effortlessly charming grin—a smile that, despite your best efforts, still sends a familiar flutter through your stomach and makes your knees feel like they're made of something much less solid than bone.
“Speaking of progress, Logan’s due for his vaccines this week, right?” You remember the schedule clearly, not just because you’re good with dates, but because Logan has become somewhat of a shared responsibility between the two of you—or at least that’s how you still see it.
“Oh, right. I promise I'll swing by. No bailing this time,” she says, chuckling, but there’s a serious undertone that tells you she’s committed to making good on her word this time.
“You better not,” you tease, “Can’t have Logan missing his shots. He’s still very young, and it’s critical we build up his protection against—”
“I won’t, Doctor,” Leigh cuts in, giving you a playful salute that makes you blush. “So, where are you off to after this? I was actually about to grab some donuts for breakfast—”
Leigh pauses mid-sentence as a woman appears at your side. She’s stunning—slightly taller than Leigh, clad in a sports bra and tight yoga pants, with sneakers on her feet. An absolute goddess; even Leigh can’t resist a quick, appreciative glance.
“Who's this?” the woman asks with a British accent, adding the perfect touch to her 5-foot-7 frame.
“This is Leigh,” you introduce quickly, noting the surprise in Leigh's expression. “Leigh, this is Sara.”
“Lovely to meet you,” Sara says warmly, extending her hand. Leigh shakes it, though her movements are somewhat mechanical. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“Oh?” Leigh’s smile is strained. “Nice to meet you, too.”
You quickly steer the topic back to Leigh's breakfast plan, asking where the donut place is. “It's just down that street,” Leigh points vaguely, but then stops short. Almost as an afterthought, she adds, “Actually, I just remembered I've got to pick up something from the laundromat.”
You frown, thrown by her sudden change of tune. “Are you sure? We could grab a bite after the run.”
“No, really, I should get going. Maybe next time!” Leigh replies hastily, already stepping back, her exit swift and decisive. As she hurries away, you're left there, watching her leave, trying to figure out what flipped her mood from happy to wanting to escape so quickly.
“Shall we?” Sara nudges you gently, already jogging in place. 
You give Sara a nod, but as you start running, you can't help but sneak one last look back. Leigh is quick to put distance between herself and the park. With a sigh, you turn your full attention back to Sara, who’s already picking up the pace, chatting about a new trail she wants to try next weekend.
“Let's go,” you mutter, mostly to yourself, as you push your legs to match her pace.
Meanwhile, Leigh walks briskly to a different restaurant, forsaking her initial craving for donuts. She can’t quite explain why she fabricated an errand; all she knows is that she needed to get away from you and Sara. Earlier, she couldn't help but notice how close Sara was standing to you, assessing you with a look that seemed a bit too interested. Leigh keeps turning over Sara's words in her mind, puzzling over what she meant by saying she'd heard a lot about her from you.
Why were you talking about her with Sara? Who exactly is Sara to you? Just a friend, or something more?
And what Leigh finds even more perplexing is why she's so troubled by needing to know the answers.
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withwritersblock · 1 day
Text
Lover Boy-The First Date
~Lover Boy by Phum Viphurit~
Author's Note: never once in my life have I gone to a Top Golf but I've seen many dates on TikTok occur there. Also he's so soft in this gif like be fr Summary: Y/N and Luke go on their first date Warnings: awk Word Count: 2,275 Luke Hughes x Edwards sister!reader
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She was laying on her bed, staring towards the movie on the screen. Nessa was rambling on about something that had happened during her study group. In all honesty, Y/N wasn’t listening to a single thing she was saying because her mind was filled with the events that occurred earlier in the night.
She couldn’t get the feeling of his lips on her skin off of her mind. Or the way his hands delicately ran along her skin with so much respect and need at the same time. They didn’t do anything serious, clothes remained on but it was amazing. To the point where she couldn’t stop thinking about it. 
“Are you even listening?” Nessa asked while laughing. Y/N blinked multiple times before she shifted her gaze towards Nessa; nodding. “What else is on your mind?” she asked teasingly. 
Before she got a chance to answer, there were three knocks on her bedroom door. Y/N jumped from her bed and walked towards the door. Nessa watched her wide eyed as Y/N peeked her eye through the peephole to see Luke standing outside of her door. She fought the smile forming to her lips as she opened the door and slipped outside.
Nessa gasped as she watched Y/N discreetly leave the room. Luke furrowed his eyebrows as he watched her slip out and lean her body against the door. “My roommate is here,” she whispered. He nodded, a small oh leaving his lips. 
“So for tomorrow, I’ve got ideas but I need your opinion,” he mumbled as he glanced down the hall. Suddenly aware of the public place they were at. Any one of his teammates could stumble upon them. 
“You could’ve texted me that,” she teased as she bit her bottom lip. His mouth opened as his cheeks flushed red as he fought the smirk forming on his lips. 
“Well, texting means I don’t get to see you and I wanted to see you,” he muttered as he looked into her eyes, squinting slightly. She smiled as she continued staring into his eyes. “So,” he started as he bounced slightly, “First option is the basic dinner and a movie. You pick the movie, I pick dinner, or the opposite. That’s up to you,” he paused. She nodded encourgingly.
“We could do dinner, dinner is in all of these options by the way, so then we go to dinner and then go to Top Golf,” he let out as he continued to scan her features, “And then the next option is dinner, obviously, and then we go ice skating which I feel is a little on the nose with the whole hockey thing but anyways.” he chuckled nervously. 
“And then the last option is dinner and then we go on a drive around town. I didn’t really think that one through as much as the others but I think it could be fun,” he mumbled. “We’ll eventually do all of them I’m sure.” 
She smiled towards him, “Let me think it through and I’ll let you know later,” she expressed. He nodded excitedly. She leaned towards him, pecking him on the lips before she slipped right back into her dorm room. Nessa was standing at the door. Y/N stared towards her with her mouth agape. Nessa was staring towards her the same way trying not to giggle. 
“When did that happen!?” she asked in a hushed tone. Y/N shuffled away from her and the door as she fought the smile on her lips. “Wait, I thought you didn't get involved with Ethan’s teammates?” she asked quietly as she followed her towards their beds.
“I didn’t until that one kept looking at me with his eyes and his tallness and his curly hair and his smile and I am in trouble aren’t I?” she rambled on as she collapsed on her bed. Nessa laughed as she sat down on her bed.
“Oh my god, tell me everything,” Nessa begged. A groan left Y/N throat as she held her pillow against her face.
~~~ 
It was the next evening and she was waiting for Luke to knock on her door. She was pacing back and forth, trying to decide if her outfit was perfect enough for her dinner and Top Golf date. She wanted to be casual but cute. She didn’t want to wear anything too tight.
“It’s perfect, stop freaking out!” Nessa let out while excitedly kicking her feet back and forth off her bed. Y/N sighed as she stood still, glancing into the mirror once more. “He’ll think you’re so sexy and hot and-” she was interrupted as three knocks hit their dorm door. Y/N’s eyes widened as she met Nessa’s gaze. “Deep breath,” Nessa mumbled as Y/N took a hold of her purse before walking towards the door.
She took a deep breath as she pulled the door open expecting Luke, but Ethan was standing at her door instead. Her eyes widened as she saw him, “Ethan, what are-why are you here?” she asked, Ethan scanned her frame. His face scrunched together.
“Where are you going?” he asked. Her mouth fell open but she shut it quickly while shaking her head slightly. 
“None of your business, what are you doing here?” she asked as she leaned her body against the door frame. 
“I wanted to see if you wanted to go out with the guys and I but it seems like you’re going on a date,” he said with a teasing smile.
“No, I’m just going out,” she said confidently. He nodded with a smirk before he took a step backwards.
“Have fun, not too much fun. I’m not ready to be an uncle,” he teased walking down the hallway. He walked back towards the elevator. The doors opened quickly and he stepped on. Y/N still leaned against the doorway to see Luke round the corner with his eyes widened. She smiled widely as her cheeks heated up.
He was wearing his baseball hat backwards with a simple black long sleeve with dark wash jeans. “Gotta go,” she muttered towards Nessa before she shut the door behind her. “Hey,” she let out as she walked towards him.
“Hey, that was a close one,” he mumbled. She nodded dramatically as they met up near the elevator to wait for its arrival.
“Yeah, I’m not ready for him to know about anything,” she said nervously. He nodded as he shoved his hands into his pocket.
“Yeah, I want him to at least get to know me before he realizes I’m taking his sister out on a date,” he muttered as the doors swung open. She chuckled nervously as they entered the elevator.
“Oh for sure,” she let out while meeting his gaze.
“I walked out of my room and saw him at your door and I spun around so fast,” he explained while laughing.
“That would ‘ve been one awkward conversation,” she mumbled. He laughed as he dropped his gaze to the floor.
~~~
The dinner was going great, conversation was flowing beautifully. He was the most perfect gentleman. “So if the Devils called you tomorrow, would you go?” she asked before she took a bite of the chocolate cake they were sharing. 
He thought about the question, there wasn’t many reasons why he wouldn’t go. He loved Michigan, he loved the team. He hated school but it’s always good to get some education before jumping into the league.
He tilted his head to the side, fighting a smile on his lips, “I think I can’t say no if they’d ask,” he said thoughtfully. “It won’t be for a few years though,” he muttered before he took a huge bit of the cake. She giggled. 
“You don’t know that,” she said, raising her eyebrows, he shrugged shyly. 
“What about you? What are your plans after graduation?” he asked, meeting her gaze. She shrugged, frowning slightly. 
“I have no idea, I’m an undecided major right now. Testing the waters on some things,” she expressed. He nodded, “I love kids, so maybe teaching. I don’t know yet,” she continued. He listened intently, loving the sound of her voice. 
“You’ve got a lot of time to figure it out,” he expressed as the waiter dropped the bill onto the table. Before she had a chance to reach over to it, Luke was already placing his card down. He chuckled watching her squirm and put her hand back into her lap. “You didn’t think you were paying did you?” 
“I picked the restaurant,” she said nervously. He smiled softly.
“I wanted you to pick a place you were comfortable,” he muttered as he ran his hand over his chin, “Also you’re never paying when I’m around,” he said with his eyebrows raised. She smiled shyly.
“What if Ethan’s with us?” she asked teasingly. His mouth opened and shut a few times before he chuckled.
“Touche, but I’ll still find a way,” he said with a smile.
It was a little while later and Luke was driving them to the Top Golf place a few miles away from the restaurant they were at. He was playing soft country music as they rode in silence for most of the ride. 
It was soft and easy. The only thing that was bothering her was the fact that he hasn’t touched her yet. Despite yesterday and how touchy he was then. Just as the thought entered her mind, he reached over and took a hold of her thigh, rubbing his thumb across the fabric of her jeans. She tried to contain her excitement as the soft gesture meant a lot more than he probably thought it did. 
Although, he was freaking out too. He was trying to decide when the best moment was to make a move. It was subtle, and to him, she barely reacted to it. 
They climbed out of the car, Luke quickly jogging towards her side of the car to open the door for her. “Thank you,” she muttered as she met his gaze for a few seconds before he rested his hand onto her lower back. He guided her towards the entrance of the facility.
After around ten minutes they were ready to go. He went first, to show her how it was done. He looked back towards her with a smirk and she nodded before she stepped up. Awkwardly trying to figure out how to hold it. 
“What are you doing?” Luke asked while holding back a chuckle. She turned her head towards him as she was trying not to laugh. 
“How do you hold this thing?” she asked, pouting slightly. He laughed as he walked towards her.
“You wanted to do Top Golf and you don’t know how to hold a golf club?” he asked as he walked towards her, standing beside her, delicately adjusting her arms and hands to hold it correctly. 
“I don’t know how to skate either,” she mumbled as she met his eyes for a brief second.
“Your brother plays D1 hockey and is drafted to the NHL and you don’t know how to skate?! How does that happen?” he asked while shaking his head. He stepped away from her while crossing his arms over her chest. 
“I played volleyball in school,” she said simply while chuckling before she swung and hit the ball very pathetically. She looked towards him, frowning slightly. He pursed his lips forward trying not to laugh. 
“Don’t laugh at me,” she said as she walked towards him, setting her club up against the chair before she looked towards his gaze again. He smiled as he scanned her features.
“Not laughing,” he muttered while shaking his head, he pouted his lips forward to stop the smile forming on his lips. He lowered his gaze towards her glossed lips for a brief second before he met her gaze one more time. 
“You’re literally laughing,” she said with a pout still on her lips. He took a hold of her hip and pulled her towards him, he kissed her urgently. He’s been trying to find a moment where he could kiss her. 
He missed the feeling of her lips on his since yesterday. It’s all that he’s been thinking about since. She smiled into the kiss as she rested her hand onto his chest. “This has been so fun,” she mumbled against his lips as his phone rang in his pocket. 
“Sorry,” he mumbled as he pulled his phone from his pocket. Ethan was calling him. He looked towards her panickedly. She shoved him softly, encouraging him to answer it. He cleared his throat before he pulled it to his ear. “Hey man,” he said, smiling awkwardly towards Y/N.
“Some of the guys are going to the bars tonight, you in?” Ethan asked. Luke tilted his head back, muttering a few curse words before he met her gaze.
“Not tonight, I’m out on a drive right now,”
“Oh come on, don’t be lame,” Ethan countered. Luke’s eyes widened as he took a deep breath.
“I-uhm, I don’t really feel like it tonight, what about tomorrow?”
“Alright, I’ll hold you to that Hughesy,” he mumbled before he hung up the phone. Luke slowly pulled the phone from his ear as he looked deeply into her eyes. 
“Are we going to lie to him forever?” he asked, swallowing hard.
“I don’t know,” she muttered as she delicately shoved him forward to continue his turn. She glanced down towards her phone to see a text from her brother.
E: Bars tomorrow? Nessa can come too. 
She stared towards the text, her heart beating rapidly.
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Text
𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐔𝐏 𝐌𝐘 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃
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summary: when you ask about your boyfriend's home, you get more than you bargained for; but considering it's him, you don't mind, right?
pairing: jade x gn! reader
warnings: fluff, a little suggestive, nonsexual nudity; i’m suffering from a serious case of eel on the brain so you must suffer with me; can’t stop thinking about bioluminescent eel brothers and just mixed that in with jade’s ceremonial robes home screen lines
twisted wonderland masterlist
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“I’m captivated by the human custom of changing clothes to suit the occasion,” Jade hummed as deft fingers tied your previously crooked tie and then straightened out the collar of your uniform shirt. “It reminds me of fish who change their scales to match their environment.”
“That sounds like an interesting ability to have,” you chuckled as you combed the long black strand of hair behind his ear, mesmerised by the way the ambient light of the nearly empty Mostro Lounge reflected in his heterochromic eyes. Even with him sitting down and you standing between his legs, he was tall enough to where you were nearly on eye-level. “I’ve never really thought about it, but I guess mers don’t really wear clothes then?”
“It depends on the mer, really, though accessorising is far more common than what you humans would consider clothes. Those in brighter waters seem to enjoy bejewelling themselves for outings, though it doesn’t serve much of a purpose in the deep.” Jade smiled, though this smile lacked the usual nerve-wrecking edge it held when others were around. When he was satisfied with his work, his hands slid down to rest on your waist. 
“On top of having to learn how to walk, having to wear all these layers of clothing must have felt really restricting,” you said, your hand mapping the path from his jaw down to his shoulder to play with the lapels of his blazer. “Though I have to say, you do look very good in your school uniform.”
“Fufu, you flatter me, my pearl,” the merman chuckled. “Even so, you look much more lovely in anything you wear. I’m still not accustomed to clothes with excess fabric. My people aren’t like aquarium fish with their long tail fins, after all.”
“I’m still in awe you managed to pull off this transformation of body and habitat so gracefully,” you thought out loud. “If my living conditions changed so drastically, I would’ve felt like a fish out of water… Quite literally, I guess.”
“Admittedly, those first months were rather rough, that’s true. But the world above the Coral Sea holds so many new experiences, I do not regret my decision.” His hands gently squeezed your sides at that, his eyes never leaving yours. Faintly you wondered whether his people could enrapture humans with just their gaze or if it was your own heart which rendered you defenceless against him.
“I’m also glad you came here, Jade,” you confessed, voice coming out barely above a whisper. This time you couldn’t stop your palms from cupping his cheeks between them as he brought you just close enough to where Azul couldn’t reprimand him for indecency. “Would you mind telling me more about the differences you experienced? I want to learn more about your home, too.”
“Gladly,” the moray smiled at you and it warmed your heart despite the hint of sharp teeth showing through. “Let’s see… Ah, I enjoy looking up at the stars, especially when out in the mountains. It’s a very different feeling than from the ocean and it makes me forget the passage of time, even though I have no particular interest in astrology.”
“Sounds like a date in the making, if you ask me,” you grinned knowingly. Every so often, Jade pestered you into switching clubs to the mountain lovers club and while you had yet to relent, you did join him on hikes frequently.  
“I will hold you to that,” he promised, eyes crinkling at the edges as if he had gotten just what he wanted. Knowing him, he probably had been gunning for exactly that without you noticing. “Now then, what else did I find astounding when I first came here? Most of it are probably minor things to you, like sneezing, cracking your joints or getting a sunburn. Still hearing the first two was very alarming initially. Azul and I thought Floyd had broken a bone.”
“To be fair, sometimes it does sound like something went incredibly wrong when someone cracks their spine or neck,” you shuddered, reminded of the sounds Ace and Deuce had produced in the past which had you halfway to the nurses office already. “A sunburn must have been a nasty surprise though.”
“That it was,” Jade sighed. “There’s hardly anything worse than drying out for a merman, so we didn’t spend much time in the sun anyway. But to learn that a human’s skin is so easily burned by something they need for their health… Speaking of sunlight, considering it does not reach the depths of my home, everything seemed excessively bright up here too in the beginning.”
“Woah, maybe I underestimated how cold and dark your home is, by my standards at least. Like, no sunlight at all? I’d probably freeze,” you laughed, goosebumps forming under your blazer and shirt at the mere thought.
“Hm, I guess it must seem so to you. When I first learnt about the summer temperatures at land I also thought it wouldn’t be bearable,” Jade chuckled, a spark of mischief in his eyes that you couldn’t place yet. “But an environment devoid of light gives way to many new possibilities in which life can evolve. Sure, you have to always be on guard for what’s lurking around the next corner but you also get to appreciate the colourful glow of bioluminescent fish and plants.”
“The first part sounds terrifying, to be quite honest.” You knew he only ever brought these things up to get a reaction out of you but you still wondered what his life was like to be able to say it with such a calm expression. Instead, you chose to focus on something more pleasant. “Though the bioluminescence sounds beautiful. Back home there were beaches where algae turned the sand and waves a fluorescent blue, so I wonder what it would look like underwater.”
“Would you like to see?” Jade asked, one hand sneaking from your waist to intertwine his fingers with yours. Anticipation was almost tangible in the air, yet you couldn’t figure out why for the life you. So despite the hairs on your neck standing on end, you nodded. Immediately, Jade had risen to his full height and was pulling you along through Octavinelle’s winding hallways.
“Jade! Where are we going?” You laughed, not expecting the sudden switch up. Though that was probably on you; despite hiding it much better than his brother, Jade still tended to do only what was fun to him. 
“Oh, you’ll see,” your boyfriend smiled conspiratorially over his shoulder, eyes twinkling like a kid’s on Christmas. He was seriously cute when he got excited about something, even if it meant finding yourself at the end of his teasing more often than not. Considering he was very fond of growing all sorts of things in his terrariums, perhaps he had managed to raise some sort of luminescent plant and this was a ploy for him to gush about his terrariums? 
Confusion set in once more, however, when you walked in a different direction than his room. Sure, you didn’t know the structure of Octavinelle all too well but you’d think you’d find the one room you had visited most in the dorm. Wracking your brain in order to figure out what was happening in his, you almost bumped into the moray as he came to a halt in front  of one of the many doors. You had never been here before, so you braced yourself for any- and everything as he twisted the doorknob.
The first thing you noticed was the smell of salt and the humidity in the air. Then you noted how you couldn’t see anything in the pitch black darkness. As if he heard your thoughts, a small, dim light flickered on above, revealing tiled floors leading up to a large pool. Of course Octavinelle would have a pool of this size. 
Following Jade to the edge of the pool, you peered into the water to find only your reflection staring back at you from the water, the lack of light turning it from clear to near intransparent.
“Seems kinda of irresponsible to cultivate plants or fish in a school swimming pool, don’t you think?” You voiced your doubts as you remembered why you came here in the first place. “How deep is this thing anyway? I can’t see anything in there.”
“Who said anything about fish or plants?” Jade’s chuckle reverberated around the room from behind you and when you turned to see what was so funny, you saw him neatly folding his uniform blazer before starting to unbutton his shirt.
“Wait, hold on.” You held up your hands as you tried putting one and one together, just to end up at three. “Not that I particularly mind where this is going but what’s happening right now?”
There was a shit-eating grin stretching across Jade’s lips and revealing his sharp teeth as he shrugged off his shirt, sauntering over to where you were standing as he slipped his gloves off. 
“Didn’t you say you wanted to see bioluminescence for yourself?” At his newfound proximity, you quickly averted your eyes from his swimmer’s body, to feign at least some form of decency, which seemed to amuse him even more. “Have I never told you that my people possess a form of bioluminescence ourselves?”
“You conveniently forgot to mention that.”
“An oversight on my part, my apologies,” Jade hummed, a hand placed over his heart, sounding not sorry at all.
“That aside, it’s not like I brought any swimwear,” you sighed, looking at his eyes and decidedly nowhere else. “Nor can I breathe or open my eyes in saltwater.”
Out of thin air, seemingly, Jade procured a small phial of shimmering liquid; the same one Azul had given to you when you went to the Coral Sea. At his unreadable smile, you raised an eyebrow but nonetheless took the potion from him. “How much of this did you plan out?”
“Fufu, do you really think I would carefully steer a conversation a certain way just to give me an excuse to bring you here?” When your answer was a resounding ‘yes’, he grinned even wider. “I see, this is the impression you have of me.”
“Also, this still doesn’t solve our first predicament,” you reminded him, yet already finding your resolve to deny him weakening. Damn the effect he had on you.
“I can’t see the predicament you speak of at all,” Jade mused, hands landing on your hips again as his fingers pinched the fabric of your uniform. “Perhaps this is a good chance for you to experience how a merperson would feel, swimming freely without any restrictive layers. You were so eager to learn earlier.”
“Jade Leech, are you suggesting I go skinny dipping in a public college pool?” You only received a closed-eye smile as a response as his hands tugged more of your shirt out of your pants. “I can’t believe you. And I can’t believe myself for going along with this…”
The vice housewarden was more than okay with undoing his former handiwork and helping you out of your tie, blazer and shirt. When it was time to remove the rest of your clothes, he left you to your own devices to do the same. For a second you contemplated leaving on your underwear but decided against it at the thought of having to walk back to your dorm with it either soaked or missing.
A splash behind you drew your attention as you draped your last article of clothing over the back of a chair you had found and you chugged down the potion, then ambled over to the pool’s edge again. Dipping your toes in, you breathed a sigh of relief when the water wasn’t too frigid, yet still settled for sitting down and hanging your legs in first.
After a minute or so of acclimating to the temperature, you wondered where your boyfriend had gone, unable to see anything in the dark water. Just then, a cold hand wrapped around your ankle. Despite knowing what -or rather who- it was, you still jerked your leg upwards, but it wasn’t like you got very far, Jade’s strength keeping you exactly where you were. A pair of mismatched eyes stared at you from right under the surface before Jade’s head emerged and broke through the water’s surface. 
“Looks like I caught myself a pearl,” he mused before gliding his webbed fingers up your bare claves, sending a jolt up your spine, but not from the coldness. Crossing his arms over your knees, he laid his head down on them so he could look at you properly, his bare chest resting against your legs. If it weren’t for the long shadow of his tail moving right under the water’s surface, he would have reminded you of an overgrown housecat.
“Oh no, whatever shall I do now?” You played along, running your hand through his wet, teal hair and gently caressing the fins where his ears would be. Sighing under your touch, his long nails absentmindedly traced over your thighs, careful not to  hurt you. “Please don’t eat me.”
Cracking his left eye open at your teasing, he pressed a lingering kiss above your knee, his teeth lightly gracing the skin there as he pulled away. Definitely not enough to hurt in any way, but enough to remind you of the danger he could pose; a notion that sent adrenaline racing through your body for all the wrong reasons. He winked at you, maybe as a promise for later. “We’ll see about that.”
As he parted from you, he pushed himself up in a display of awe-inspiring core strength and pulled you against him by your waist and thighs, taking you with him as he slowly sank under the surface again. Your hands tried finding purchase on his shoulders, yet continued to slip over the slick covering his skin. Jade, however, had no difficulties holding on to you.
On instinct you had closed your eyes and held your breath as you submerged but the careful caress of a thumb over your cheekbone prompted you to open them and take a tentative lungful of air. Just as back in the Coral Sea, the sensation was weird and unfamiliar but you didn’t drown, which you noted down as a pro.
Whatever you wanted to say died on your tongue as you looked at Jade. Bright spots glowed on his chest and the stripes running over his ribs glowed in an equally stunning teal. Backing up so he was a good arm’s length away, you studied the rest of him, finding that the stripes over his hips as well as clusters of spots on his arms and fins all seemed to be luminescent.
“You’re so beautiful,” you whispered, more to yourself than to him, yet he still pulled you flush against his torso again. Without much hesitation you started tracing the constellations you could reach. “They’re like stars.”
The moray was glad you couldn’t see his face from your position for an uncharacteristically genuine expression of shock decorated his face. Nobody back at home had ever complimented him so genuinely without any ulterior motives. Yes, he had been the one who instigated this little stunt but he hadn’t factored in that you always managed to tug on his heartstrings in the end. At first, he had been a little wary, wondering what you thought about his merform, especially after he had chased you around the sea like this before, but he realised he shouldn’t have worried.
“And you flatter me yet again,” he chuckled instead, tone and expression back to his usual show of amusement. Still, he looped his long tail around your middle once as his hands wandered over your curves and stroked along your skin that was so much more delicate compared to his. “Should I perhaps be wary that you are lowering my defences for nefarious reasons?”
“Ah and here I was hoping you wouldn't notice,” you sighed, fingertips brushing over the bright spots littering his tail as you held his gaze, his yellow eye almost glowing against the darkness that surrounded you. “Despite all the warnings I’ve intended to steal from you. This, to be precise.”
Maybe it was the fact it was just the two of you down here and the rest of the world was forgotten, that drove you to be so straightforward and sappy. But the rhythmic beating of his heart underneath your palm dispelled any feelings of shyness or awkwardness at the -frankly cliché- confession of affection. 
Not that Jade seemed to mind either. Before you caught up to what was happening he closed the gap between you and pressed his lips against yours. Perhaps taking the potion earlier was inconsequential after all as Jade moved with the intention of robbing you of all air anyway, the webbed fingers on the back of your head keeping you exactly where he wanted you. You cursed your lungs for burning with the need for oxygen, never having yearned for gills as much as in this moment, if it meant you could keep kissing him for just a second longer. Before he parted from you completely he bit down on your bottom lip, not enough to draw blood but just so to leave it tingling from his attention. 
“What a silly little darling,” Jade mused, tracing the shallow indents of his teeth with the pad of his thumb as he drank up the expression on your face. The coil of his tail around you grew just a tad tighter, yet still careful not to hurt you, as a sudden wave of possessiveness washed over him. “Everybody knows you can’t steal what’s already yours.”
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macfrog · 2 days
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hi queenie, love of my life 😌 i’d like to ask the following for 🩵: d’you think there was ever a moment where joel really thought holy shit. she drives me insane… i gotta fuck her. ???
(rly hoping there was 😌)
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ily, sister! thanks for the gif. feeling really. normal. about him. right now. oh, yeah. he had his moments. let's get into it.
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compensation 1.1k words | duckie's baby shower 🩵 warnings: literally just joel masturbating to the thought of his neighbor. good shit.
she can’t have been older than twenty-five, when she moved in.
hell, she’s not even thirty yet, as it is. she’s too fucking –
you’re too fucking young for him, and that’s the end of that.
at least – that’s what joel’s telling himself, trapped on your front porch. watching you relive the story of the ups driver who almost wouldn't let you sign for his package.
doing his best to keep his eyes on yours, and not the thin tank top you’re wearing.
“…she’s like, how do i know you’re gonna get this to him? i’m like, uh, what the fuck do i want with my boring ass neighbor’s mail? no offense, joel. but c’mon. i’m literally signing for it. anyways.”
you turn, bending down for the box by the stairs, and joel drags his eyes upwards.
his hand shakes at his side. jaw ticks, watching you turn back, the package leaning against your front. your breasts – oh, jesus.
he swallows. his throat feels like carpet burn.
“’s heavy,” you mutter, edging towards him. “rock collecting?”
“mind your business,” joel clips, slipping his hands around the box. the back of his wrists brush against the swell of your breasts, and he stares so intensely at his own address on the label that he hopes it’s burned forever into his vision.
you huff as the weight passes into his hands. a little sigh.
something twitches beneath his belt buckle.
joel sits the box on his hip. “well, thanks for this. and for calling me boring.”
you cross your arms. it only pushes your tits up more. “stay humble, old man.”
he should walk away. right now. he should take his package, and his pride, and the fucking rock in his jeans – and head on home.
but then you slump against the doorpost, one ankle crossing over the other, and say, “s’posed to get pretty hot this summer.”
“’s already pretty hot.”
“hotter, jackass. they’re sayin’ record temperatures.”
“they say that every year.”
you poke at the inside of your cheek with your tongue. the way you always do, when you’re trying to annoy him.
and it’s working.
“actually, uh –” joel shifts between feet, “– i was gonna ask you a favor.”
“mhm?”
his gaze trickles down your figure. each curve and swell of supple skin. the shorts he’s getting a little too used to seeing you in, too used to looking for. your bare legs, and the glow of sun on them.
when he looks back up, you’re smirking at him.
christ, he wants to wipe that smirk clean off your face. wants to twist it into something darker, something…something louder, and filthier, and –
“joel. hellooo?”
you wave your hand in front of his face, and he snaps back.
“huh? oh, shit. sorry – i, uh…” a flush rises like an inferno up his neck. he shakes his head, fighting it off. “yeah. a favor.”
“you good? don’t pass out on my porch,” you warn. “wait until you’re back on your own land to do that.”
he breathes a laugh – panting, almost. “i’m good. i just – i need someone to water my, uh – my plants. i’m outta town next week, visitin’ my brother. if you wouldn’t mind…”
he feels like a fucking moron when he finally meets your eye again.
you blink back at him, frowning. head tipped, looking him up and down. “i don’t mind,” you say, something cautious in your voice, “but i expect generous compensation for my time.”
“compensation,” joel agrees, nodding. he’d do anything to be off this goddamn porch right now. “how about i’ll owe you one?”
“works for me.”
“alright. thank you, again,” he holds the package up, “and, uh – i’ll see ya.”
he’s gone before he hears your response.
too young. she’s too young. you’re so young. goddamn it.
you drive him fucking insane. you and your little shorts, the simper on your face. he swears he could see through the white of your top, two perfect circles where –
oh, fuck.
he spills into his bathroom, a heavy hand slamming down on the valve. the water roars from the showerhead, louder than the blood in his ears.
joel hauls his tee over his shoulders, the fabric peeling from his muscles and crumpling in a damp pile on the floor. he shucks the rest of his clothes off, kicking them to the side, and steps straight into the cubicle.
he looks down, and – fucking hell.
his cock sways between his legs, all rosy and already dripping. he can feel his pulse hammering at his tip; hisses when the stream sprays over it.
his hand lifts, curving around air.
shit, he just wants to touch himself. wants to relieve the ache between his hips. he has to.
he balls his fists against the tiled wall. his head drops low between his shoulders. the water pours down over him, pastes his dark hair in soaking flicks around his face. he can taste the salt of sweat and sun as it slips from his skin.
once. if he only did it once, would it matter? he’s hard now, anyways. there’s a quick fix.
you just – you caught him off-guard. he only went over there to pick up a package. he didn’t fucking know you’d be – oh, christ – he didn’t know you’d be in that shirt. no bra, no nothing beneath it.
he can still feel the plush of your tits on his knuckles. the way they moved as you leant against the doorframe. he can still see the summery shine on your skin.
he thinks about slipping his hands under the hem of your tank. up, up, up, across your smooth skin until he’s cupping them. squeezing them; circling his thumbs over the hardening peaks.
the short breaths from your lips, your smirk melted into a delicate o-shape. voiceless, nothing but whimpering and gasping when his teeth take your nipple.
before he even realizes it – he’s stroking his cock.
and quickly.
he groans, lips turning to his bicep. he bites down on the skin, hard.
he’d slip your shorts down your hips; see whatever slutty little panties you wear. he’d pull your thighs over his shoulders, unfold your sweet cunt and –
“shit,” joel pants, hips stuttering. his fingers splay out on the slippery tile.
you’re so infuriating. loudmouthed and fucking bratty. and he could shut you up, he knows he could. he’d sit you on his cock, wrapped perfectly around him, and fuck you dumb. fuck you until you’re nothing but a sobbing, soaking mess.
fuck you with that scrap of a tank top on. tits bouncing beneath it, the fabric riding higher and higher until they’re exposed.
what a good fuckin’ girl, taking all of him. letting him split you open, letting him fuck you raw. so big he’ll leave an ache deep inside you; so hard that he makes you come three times over before he’s even close.
but – fuck, he’s close, right now.
“c’mon, baby,” he mutters into his skin. teeth gritted; fist so tight the skin threatens to split across his knuckles. “make me come, c’mon.”
it’d dribble from your cunt, and he’d push it straight back in. make damn sure you keep it all in there, make damn sure you’re walking around all full of him. the seam of your thighs slick, semen seeping into your panties.
“goddamn,” he groans, and with a throb, coats the shower wall.
his cock twitches, pulses until he’s empty. the ache begins to thaw.
he shuts the shower off, still massaging his softening dick as he steps back out. he lifts a towel and drags it across his tingling body.
and he swears, when he notices the sun dipping below your roof –
it will never happen again.
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