#that is not something I vibe with and will be quick to correct | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

munsonslove · 2 years

Note

Hi! I love you writing and I was wondering if you could write a fic we’re Eddie and the reader kinda have like a frenemies vibe going on and then one day they sleep together but Eddie has no idea the reader is a virgin because of people saying stories about her and then they sleep together and he finds out after they did it??

Can I Kiss You?

(18+ only)

a/n: thanks so much for the request, & thank you everyone for 1k followers!!! i’m so happy people are liking my little stories <3 a few notes: reader is dustin’s older sister in this fic, but i make it a point to say that she was adopted, so you can def read this as not white reader still. i also briefly mention the reader’s birth parents passing away when she was very young, so tw for family death. and there’s a part where it’s said that the reader’s last name isn’t henderson (because she kept her original surname after being adopted) so if anyone’s reading this and your irl last name is henderson… just like pretend it’s not for a sec? oh also i hid a taylor swift lyric in here. first person to find it wins! anyways i hope y’all like it!!

summary: Your little brother's annoying DM is always hanging around and trying to bother you. Embarrassingly, you developed a crush on him, you were just too proud to do anything about it.

wordcount: 7.3k

tags/warnings: fem!virgin!reader (18+ and a high school graduate), also adopted!henderson!reader, slight mention of family death, fluff, smut, friends/frenemies to lovers, praise kink, fingering (f receiving), descriptions of masturbation (both f and m receiving), use of pet names (baby, princess), unprotected p in v penetration (she’s on the pill, use condoms irl of course), no use of y/n

“He’s not here,” you deadpan with a roll of your eyes as you open the front door. You weren’t expecting any visitors, so when you heard knocking you were quick to find a makeshift weapon before seeing who it was. Your paranoia diminished when you saw it was merely your little brother's DM.

“I’d be tempted to say ‘how do you know I’m not here to see you?’, but that lamp in your hands has me second guessing myself,” Eddie replies with a laugh, pushing past you to enter your home without permission. “You gonna attack me, princess? Didn’t know you found me that annoying.”

“I’m a young woman home alone, and a lot of really strange things happen in this town,” you explain, setting the lamp back down on the end table. “Sue me for being defensive.”

He shakes off his backpack and tosses on the floor. “Better safe than sorry I guess,” he agrees, though you can hear his amused smirk in his tone. “Why you home alone? Your mom got a hot date or something?”

“Book club,” you correct him while crossing your arms, “And Dustin’s sleeping over at the Wheeler’s.”

Eddie hums in response, licking his lips as he looks you up and down. “Cute pajamas,” he says, winking at you.

At his comment, you realize with a start that your robe had fallen open, and crossing your arms only accentuated the suggestive low cut of your silk nightie. Quickly scrambling to cover yourself and retie the knot, you frustratedly grumble, “What are you even doing here? Dustin didn’t say anything about you coming over.”

He flops down on the couch, kicking his feet up on the coffee table and settling into the well-worn cushions, making himself at home. “He talked me into letting him DM for a campaign, so I thought I’d stop by with my copy of the Dungeon Master’s Guide. He was bitching about only having the Player’s Handbook and Monster Manual, so…” he trails off with a shrug as he leans forward to snatch the remote to the TV from next to his boot.

“Get your dirty shoes off of my mother’s clean furniture,” you scold before physically grabbing his ankles and forcing his feet to the floor. “Can you at least pretend to have manners?”

“I could try, but then you wouldn’t have a crush on me anymore,” he laughs, then hooks one of his fingers into the belt of your robe, pulling you down to be seated next to him. He rests his arm on the back of the couch behind your shoulders, not reacting when you retort with a curt ‘In your dreams.’

You know that logistically you could make him leave- this was your home, after all- but the possibility of him actually going without protest was very low. It seemed like Eddie’s favorite thing in the world was annoying you, and sometimes you find yourself missing the days back when he barely acknowledged your existence. He was originally two years ahead of you in school, but due to him being held back twice he ended up being a part of your graduating class. You didn’t run in the same crowd, in fact you couldn’t have been further out of each other’s social spheres. You were quite popular, invited to many parties, even won prom queen your senior year. Eddie, on the other hand, only showed up at parties to sell drugs, and didn’t attend prom for any of his senior years.

When your little brother entered high school, you worried about him being bullied. You were aware that most of the school’s population were under the impression that Dungeon and Dragons was a devil worshiping cult, and the Hellfire club along with it. Having been exposed to the game for so long thanks to Dustin’s nerdy interests, you knew better than what the propaganda surrounding D&D tried to peddle to the public, but you held concerns that your status-obsessed ‘friends’ wouldn’t be so easily convinced otherwise. Popularity was never something you sought out, it just came naturally to you, and while it was nice always having weekend plans there was no way in hell you were going to let anyone give your baby brother and his friends any shit. If sticking up for your family made the ‘cool kids’ at school not want to have you in their clique, then that was fine by you. To your surprise, everyone seemed to get the message loud and clear that Dustin and his band of misfits were off limits bullying-wise, and you were able to stay relatively well liked by your peers.

The first time you stood up for Dustin, it was a few weeks into his freshman year in the hallway before first period. One of the guys from the basketball team was giving him a hard time, and you marched right up to the meathead jock and shoved him away. You made sure to get your point across that if you ever saw him fucking with your brother again that you weren’t afraid to fight back. The opposing boy cowered away, not expecting one of the most popular girls at Hawkins to so adamantly defend who he considered a ‘nerd’. Word traveled fast, and by lunchtime the hottest gossip was how you sucker-punched Damian Smith square in the jaw outside of Mrs. Hackett’s classroom this morning. It wasn’t true by a long shot, but you found it rather amusing how much the story got twisted when there were so many witnesses. That day was also the first time you spoke to Eddie.

He had cornered you in the cafeteria, and was attempting to use his ‘bad boy, outcast’ demeanor to intimidate you into leaving Dustin alone. Some of the cheerleaders got the attention of their boyfriends, and pretty soon a group had gathered to see why someone at the bottom of the food chain was messing with you. You called them off with a wave of your hand, then took Eddie’s arm to drag him out into the hall and figure out what the hell he was talking about. He clearly had the wrong idea, because he was telling you off about ‘pretending to stand up for the nerdy freshmen’ and how he ‘knew this was part of some elaborate prank’.

He had no idea you were Dustin’s sister. It made sense, you didn’t look all that similar and you didn’t even share a last name. Your biological parents were family friends of the Hendersons, and they died when you were fairly young. You were legally adopted by your godmother, and were raised as a member of the family. Most everyone who you’ve told has tried to console you after learning the truth, and while it is sad that you didn’t get to grow up with your birth mother and father, you know you were lucky to be a Henderson (by love, not by name). Family is family, even if there’s no blood relation, and that’s exactly what you told Eddie. You let him know that he could accuse you of being one of those airheads whose main concern is how many pages of the yearbook they make it on, but that wasn’t going to stop you from beating the shit out of anyone who tried to give your brother a hard time.

With Eddie becoming a close friend of Dustin’s, even somewhat of a role model (much to your dismay), you saw him pretty often. He was always finding excuses to come over, and you suspected it had something to do with his new life mission of bothering you at every waking moment. The two of you didn’t hate each other per se, on the contrary you actually always secretly enjoyed spending time with the metalhead, despite your differences. That being said, your rapport consisted mainly of jestful bantering, constantly trying to have the one-up in the exchange. You both finished high school together, he actually gave you a ride to graduation (not without a snide comment on the length of your dress, prompting a middle finger from you). Now you were taking a gap year before college and he was staying in Hawkins to focus on his music, the plan being to move to Indianapolis when the final member of Corroded Coffin graduated. With the freedom awarded by not attending Hawkins anymore- from both the stressful preparation for another four years of school and the pressure to stick to the status quo- you found yourself spending a lot of downtime with Eddie. You’re not quite sure either of you would readily call the other a friend, but maybe relationship labels were overrated. All you knew was that if Dustin was hitching a ride home, you could count on Eddie’s van being parked in the driveway for at least a couple hours while he berated you inside.

Lately though, the playful bickering between you two morphed into what almost felt like flirting. Eddie seemed to be laying it on thicker and thicker each time he came to see you, as if he was testing the waters for how much he could get away with without you getting upset. What he didn’t know, however, was that you’ve been harboring a secret crush on him for a while now. After actually getting to know him through the excuse of you both caring about Dustin, you came to the realization that he’s not all bad like his reputation.

Eddie switches on the TV, turning it to your favorite channel without asking and setting the remote back down on the table. It’s the little gestures like these that have you falling harder for him everyday. You lose your train of thought getting lost in fantasies of doing exactly this with him, only while being able to call him your boyfriend. You’re ripped back to reality when his arm shifts from the back of the couch to actually over your shoulders. His face doesn’t show any sign that he thinks of this as overly intimate, so you try to not let any reaction show.

Some hours pass this way, and you wonder how long Eddie plans to stay for. You silently pray that your neighbors won’t say anything to your mom about his van parked in the driveway, but even if they do, the tingling you felt in your chest was well worth it- and besides, no matter what she said, you were an adult. Just as you're thinking this, Eddie stands to pick his bag up off of the floor, slipping the books he brought out onto the coffee table, before zipping it back up and holding it awkwardly in his hands.

“I guess I should probably get going,” he says with a shrug, “It’s getting late, and your mom will be home soon.”

“She said they were going to drink wine,” you respond. “You know Claudia, she wouldn’t drive after having even a sip. She’s going to sleep on her friend’s couch.”

“Oh,” he says, his eyes lighting up a little before he purses his lips and looks out the window. “Well, it’s pretty dark out now. I don’t wanna keep you up…”

There’s a brief pocket of silence, neither of you wanting to be the one to suggest what you’re thinking for fear of the other not returning the same feeling. You don’t want your disappointment at the idea of him not staying to be too evident, but you’re not sure how convincing you’re being. Your gaze drops down to his pretty lips, distracted by how he’s biting them, and wishing you could bite them instead. Faintly, so faintly you’re almost unsure if you even really heard it, he speaks your name, bringing your attention back to his eyes. You watch as he gathers the courage for his next words.

“Can I kiss you?”

It’s like time stops. You resist the urge to squeal like a little girl with a crush, but that is exactly how you feel. Slowly, you nod your head before moving your lips to say, ‘Yes,’ though no sound escapes you. He drops the bag, and kicks it out of the way when it lands at his feet before taking long strides toward you. The both of you lean forward, and he tilts his head slightly to make room for your noses. His breath fans your lips as he hesitates to close the distance. Impatient after months of pining, you grab him by the zipper of his jacket and finally do what you’ve been dreaming about for so long.

His lips are as soft as they look, and you conclude that your theory about his chapstick addiction is correct. With as much as he smokes (medicinal or otherwise), he must moisturize them pretty often. He actually tastes very faintly of tobacco, and you remember how he said he was trying to quit and only smoked cigarettes when he was jittery. You wonder if that meant that you make him as nervous as he makes you. The dirty taste was thankfully mostly covered up by a strong minty flavor, and that only makes you wonder even more, this time about if he also obsesses over little detail when he knows he’s going to see you. Whenever Dustin would inform you Eddie was on his way over, you would find yourself primping in front of the mirror, making sure your hair fell in place just the right way and your skin was clear of any blemishes. You even did this before you fully understood your feelings for the man were romantic. Picturing him having the afterthought to pop a mint before driving over to see you had you smiling against his lips.

“What?” he laughs, pulling away from you slightly and raising an eyebrow with both curiosity and amusement.

“Nothing,’ you reply, giggling softly. “Just thinking.”

“Oh? What about?” he asks, leaning in once again to peck you chastely before simply resting his forehead against your and gazing into your eyes. He walks you backwards, back to the couch and sits, pulling you down next to him.

You shake your head, still smiling. Your mind was racing a mile a minute and it was too much to explain, especially when the only thing you wanted was for him to kiss you silly. “Not now. Just come here,” you whisper as you thread your fingers through his hair and push yourself flush against him, ending up fully sat in his lap with his hands gripping your thighs.

You two last like this for a while, (mostly) innocently kissing, just enjoying the feeling of finally giving into temptation. Pretty soon, Eddie’s touch begins to roam, and your hips begin to rock. It was very quickly crossing the line from PG-13 to R. When you feel his cock harden beneath you, you make up your mind about what you want to happen.

“Eddie,” you moan while his tongue circles a bite mark he left on your neck, soothing the sting. He dismisses the sound, lost in his own world as his hands find purchase on your butt, assisting your movements against him. “Eddie,” you try again, shaking his shoulders slightly.

He immediately slides his hands up to a more modest area on your waist, and he lifts his head away from your neck to look at you. His pupils are blown wide, and his hair is wild. “Yeah, baby?” he says, sounding out of breath.

“Do you want to go to my room?” you ask. You can tell by the way he glances back down at your lips, then to your thighs, and finally back up to your eyes, that he knows exactly what you are implying.

“A- are you sure?” he forces out, barely believing what he’s hearing.

“I’m sure,” you confirm. “I’m ready.”

You’re both hurrying down the hallway, nearly tripping over each other’s feet in your haste. The walk to your bedroom is short, but after putting off the inevitable for so long, you can barely wait and have to resist jumping his bones before reaching your destination. Throwing open the door, he ushers you inside and shuts it behind him.

Eddie’s heavy leather jacket thuds as it hits the floor, his shirt being discarded soon after. Your mouth waters at the sight of his tattoos, but you barely have time to admire his partial nudity. He’s on top of you in a flash, pressing you into the wall and kissing you passionately. His curious hands rake over your body, and their wandering loosen the knot on your robe’s belt, causing the thick fabric to open slightly and expose your collarbone. Like a man starved, Eddie’s lips never lose contact with you as he rips the tie from your body, almost making you fall with the force behind it. He steadies you with his hands back on your waist, this time underneath the robe, and you can feel his touch so much better with only the thin silk of your nightgown between you. Shrugging the robe off, he helps you pull it down your arms before tossing it onto your carpet, and the cold air of your bedroom is fought off by his body warmth invading every inch of you.

“Do you want this as much as I do?” he whispers gravelly after parting his lips from yours.

He doesn’t need to clarify what exactly he wants, because you want it all with him. “I do,” you confirm.

He leads you over to your bed, a queen-sized four-poster, still unmade from this morning. You climb on top and turn to face him while sitting on your knees. He looms over you, standing at the foot of the bed with you kneeling on the mattress in front of him. His pretty eyes darken as he looks down and takes in your form.

“God, I like you like this,” he laughs from above you, “Is this what I gotta do for you to shut your mouth?”

“You like my mouth” you shoot back, sitting up to reach him and tangling your hands in his curls. You make a fist, thus pulling his hair slightly.

He grunts as you tug on his locks, but doesn’t let the innuendo in your last comment go. “You do have a real nice mouth,” he says as he swipes his thumb against your bottom lip. Before he can retract his hand, you open your mouth and suck the digit into it, swirling your tongue around the tip while looking up at him from behind your eyelashes.

“Fuck, baby,” he brokenly breathes out.

The only thing you see in his eyes is pure unadulterated lust, and you feel your belly grow warmer at the thought of what he was going to do about it. He withdraws his hand only to place it on your neck, his palm on the front of your windpipe. He’s not applying any pressure, so you can’t call it choking, but just the implication of such a touch has arousal pooling in your underwear. His thumb is warm and wet on your throat, and when he trails his hand from your neck to the back of your head, the breeze of air on the leftover saliva makes your skin feel cool. Eddie drops his head and his lips meet yours once again, but only just barely making contact. You try to deepen the kiss, but he’s returned the favor of holding onto a tuft of your hair, making it impossible to press against him more firmly without your hair being pulled. He laughs at your cries of protest, but gives in, sucking on your bottom lip and nipping at it before licking his tongue past the threshold of your mouth.

Kissing like this isn’t the most comfortable, what with the springs of your mattress digging into your knees and your neck craning up to be able to reach Eddie, but you could stay in this position for hours if it meant he was going to keep touching you the way he was. The hand not tangled and tugging at your hair was sliding up your side, dragging the silk of your nightie up. He bunched the fabric up in a fist, which caused it to be lifted enough that your cotton panties were on display. You briefly worry about whether he was going to think the underwear you had on was sexy or not, considering it wasn’t silky or lacy like your nightgown was. It was just a simple and comfortable pair of navy blue panties with a white elastic waistband.

While you were busy overthinking, Eddie bent at his knees and kissed down your jaw, releasing your hair to raise the fabric on the other side of your nightie up to the same level, then backed away to pull it the rest of the way up over your head and off your body. You felt a little self conscious, bare chested in nothing but a pair of underwear that wasn’t even sexy. Your arms went to fold in front of you, but Eddie dropped the silk and grabbed your wrists, stopping you.

“Don’t cover yourself,” he whispers, his eyes glued to your body, “You’re so beautiful.”

Blood rushes to your head as you bite back a smile at his compliment. Any anxiety you previously felt about him judging you vanishes, and in its place comes even more need. Eddie tells you to lay down as he softly nudges your shoulder, and you do as he says with no contest. He hooks his fingers underneath the elastic of your panties before waiting for one last head nod from you. When you give the okay and lift your hips, he slowly pulls the fabric off of you, sucking in a breath when your bare pussy finally crosses his line of sight.

He crawls onto the bed and kisses up your torso, starting at your hip bone and making his way all the way up to your clavicle. The hard tent in his jeans rubs against the delicate skin of your inner thigh as he spends extra time marking up your neck, and you get impossibly wetter at the proof of the effect you have on him. When he pulls away, the mattress dips by both sides of your face due to him propping himself up by his arms. His legs bend as he sits up, successfully caging you in, and he takes a moment to just look at you.

“I’m gonna get you ready for me, okay baby?” he says quietly, one of his hands leaving their spot next to your head as he traces his fingertips lightly down the dip in between your breasts, over your belly button, and caresses your dripping slit.

“Yeah, okay,” you mutter out your consent. With your brain as cloudy as it was, you weren’t entirely sure what he was proposing, but you were at a point by now where you would agree to anything.

His middle digit slips easily past the soaked folds around your weeping hole, and he circles the entrance teasingly, collecting your juices before finally breaching, and just his fingertip enters into you. An embarrassing high pitched squeak escapes from your throat, and you raise yourself up onto your elbows to get a better look at what he’s doing to you.

“You wanna watch as I warm you up with my fingers, princess?” he croons at you sweetly. “It’s pretty, ain’t it?”

You take a deep gasp of air as his finger disappears further into you, his hands are bigger and tougher than your own, and the difference is very noticeable. He bends and straightens his wrist over and over, pumping in and out of you with ease, and the foreign feeling is strange yet pleasurable. Another finger slides inside, and he works them into you, opening you up. He’s determined to make the next step after this as satisfying for you as possible.

“You’re so wet and tight, baby. You’re gonna feel so good on my cock,” he practically mewls. There’s a wild look in his eyes, and it only steers you closer to your climax. “You want that, baby? You wanna make me feel good? Make me crave you all the time, even more than I already do?”

His words are slurring together as he rambles on about how perfect he knows your pussy is going to feel around him. For the life of you, you can’t form any response that isn’t loud moaning, but Eddie doesn’t seem to mind one bit. You feel the build up inside of you start, and your entire body tenses involuntarily as you prepare for what you know will be a mind-blowing orgasm.

“Are you gonna cum? My princess is gonna cum?” he asks, and you nod your head to the best of your ability given that the muscles in your neck are locked up. “You’re squeezing my fingers so fucking tight, baby. Show me how pretty you are when you cum. Show me, and I promise I’ll fuck you so good, so right. I’ll fuck you as many times as you let me, and I’ll do it anyway you want. Hard, slow, soft, fast… Just show me how perfect my girl is when she’s cumming around my fingers and I’ll give you what you need”

His promises push you over the edge, and you finish while crying out his name. Literally, you feel moisture leak from your eyes as your head pushes into the pillow beneath you. Eddie leans forward to kiss away the tears, all while still fingering you, helping you to ride out your orgasm for as long as possible.

“That’s it, that’s my girl,” you hear as you start to come back to the world. His hand slows down slightly, more focused on a deep and sensual rhythm, and you feel his hot breath on your temple as he continues to soothe you through your come down. “Did such a good job, sounded so pretty moaning my name, wanna make you make those sounds forever…”

He trails off as he pulls his hand away, and you both stare at his hand and watch how the light reflects off the glistening slick coating his fingers. He plunges them into his mouth, and groans around them at the taste as your jaw drops in disbelief. It was the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. Still recovering from both your shock and intense orgasm, you grunt out in annoyance when Eddie rolls off of you and stands up. You’re about to complain at the loss of contact, until you realize his reason for doing so was to unbutton his jeans. You instantly rise. Your head feels dizzy from sitting up too fast, but you push through the lightheadedness in order to give your full attention to what was about to happen.

Eddie hurriedly moves to yank his tight jeans down his legs, stumbling slightly but regaining his balance enough to not fall, then succeeds pulling down the denim and kicking his legs out of it. His legs are pale- as could be suspected from wearing nothing but full length pants in Indiana- and they look rather soft. You want to reach your hand out and graze his calf to see if they’re as soft as they appear, or if looks are deceiving and his dark wisps of leg hair actually have a coarse texture. There’s no time to dwell on that instinct, as very soon after discarding his pants he follows his boxers with them, and you’re distracted by hair in another area.

Eddie’s cock springs to his stomach when he straightens up from pulling off his underwear. The sight of it both makes you want to spread your legs and squeeze your thighs together, but the choice is made for you when Eddie takes your knee with one of his hands and settles between your legs on the bed. His lips met yours as his shaft grazed your soaked lips, brushing against your clit and causing you to buck up into hip, but your hips are pinned down by his pelvis. The pressure allows some relief, but you crave more.

“Fuck me,” you beg, “Please fuck me, Eddie.” You sound pathetic even to yourself, but you’re far past the point of no return as far as shame goes.

“Do you have protection?” he asks, in between kisses. “I didn’t bring condoms. I didn’t think- I didn’t expect you to actually-”

“I’m on the pill,” you cut him off. “Just fuck me.”

“Oh my god,” he groans, “Are you sure, princess?”

“Please, Eds,” you whine, “I need you.”

“You need me, baby?” he smiles against you while you nod your head. His teeth clash with yours as you try to pull him somehow closer to you than he already is. “I know what you need. I’m gonna give it to you, don’t worry.”

He lifts himself up so that he can grasp the base of his shaft, and slides up and down your slit before he positions the head of his cock to be poking your entrance. There was a stinging sensation as he stretched you out, sinking in slowly inch by inch until you can’t take anymore and have to stop him.

“Too big?” he asks, and the tone of his voice leads you to believe he’s asking this with genuine concern rather than inflating his own ego. He really doesn’t want to hurt you.

“I just need a s- second,” you stutter out while adjusting your pelvis, trying to ease the dull ache.

“Take all the time you need,” he murmurs while pecking you on the tip of your nose. Your hand immediately flies up to guide his lips to your own, and the emotion behind the kiss distracts you from the tenseness you feel, allowing you to loosen up slightly.

“God,” he moans, “you feel even more perfect than I imagined.”

A smug smirk crosses your face and you lift an eyebrow at him. “So you’ve imagined?” you ask, tilting your head and chuckling.

“Don’t act you haven’t fucked yourself with those fingers of yours while calling out my name,” he responds with a challenging look, “I can just picture it now, your sheets all crumpled from you tossing and turning, your hands cramping up but you ignoring it cause you’re so desperate to cum. Tell me, princess, when we would hang out, how long would you wait after I left to run up here and start rubbing this pretty little clit.”

As he tortures you with these (very true) accusations, his right hand snakes its way in between your bodies to start playing with your clit. He touches the nub with the tip of his thumb, applying pressure before rolling it in gentle circles. It’s too much and not enough at the same time.

“I asked you a question, baby,” he says, his lips now moving against your jaw as you focus on relaxing and getting used to the feeling of him inside you. “You gonna be a good girl and answer me?”

His vulgar words combined with his hand’s actions send you a wave of slick arousal, and suddenly you’re ready, and you want him deeper. “Eddie,” you whine, “more.”

“Nuh-uh,” he mutters, not moving an inch and keeping that deviously slow pace with his fingers. “I wanna hear about you touching yourself, princess.”

“Ugh!” you groan, kicking your leg out like a kid throwing a tantrum. “Eddie! It’s embarrassing!”

“No it’s not,” he comforts you, his left hand stroking your cheekbone as he leans down to kiss you sweetly on the lips. “When I’m thinking of you, I like to go nice and slow at first…”

Your breath gets stuck in your throat as you realize what he’s about to do. He’s going to tell you about him getting off to dirty thoughts of you. It should disgust you to know the boy who was teasing you and picking little fights for the past almost two years has been fantasizing about you, but it only gets you going more. You force your eyes open to look at him, and he’s already staring deeply at you, his face showing no signs of mocking.

“I think about those pretty lips, so soft. I think about what they’d feel like on my skin, around my cock.” His unabashed admissions are doing nothing to help with how impatient you’re getting, but his fingers stop circling your clit when you try to slide down deeper onto his dick yourself.

“I know you want it baby, but I’m trying to talk to you,” he whispers, “You don’t wanna be rude, do you? You already wouldn’t answer my question.”

“Sorry,” you whimper weakly, hoping that if you play along he’ll hurry up.

“So sweet for me,” he says as his hand starts up again and he nips at the sensitive skin in the crook of your neck. “I knew you’d be sweet. I knew your tough girl act was a show. All the times you got mouthy and bratty with me, you just wanted to be my sweet, good girl.”

“I take off everything but my panties. And then I lay down in bed, with the fan on cause I get hot. And I start feeling up my stomach-”

He cuts you off with a chuckle. “What are you talking about, princess?”

You bang your head on the pillow and start squirming. “I’m answering your question,” you whimper, “You’re taking too long, Eddie, I need it!”

His fingers circle your clit fast and he finally, finally sinks the rest of the way in you, bottoming out and filling you up so deep and full. “Keep going,” he orders as he starts rocking in and out of you at such a cruelly slow rate. As if reading your mind, he adds on, “I’ll go faster if you keep going.”

“Fuck, Eds,” you moan out in ecstasy, your mind empty and only able to think about his cock and what he’s doing to you. But you want- no, need- him to go faster, so you summon every brain cell you have and force yourself to speak semi-coherently.

“I feel up my stomach til I get goosebumps, and I start massaging my tits and thinking about what it would feel like if it was your h-hands,” you start to stutter as his left hand mimics your descriptions, tickling your abdomen as it makes its way to your chest. “And while I did that, I would spit on my fingers a little bit then stick my hand in my underwear, and I would start rubbing my clit.”

“And you imagined it was me doing it?” he interrupts, now thrusting into you a little harder and a little deeper, his hand massaging your breast before taking a nipple in between his thumb and pointer finger and rolling it gently.

You nod your head, too lost in the feeling to answer verbally. He really started to pick up the speed now, hitting a spot in you that you were never quite able to reach on your own, and it’s so sinfully delicious that you feel like you’re going to black out from the intensity of the pleasure. He feels so perfect moving against you, the velvety skin of his cock merging so right with your inner walls. You chastise yourself for holding out for so long, if you had known how blissful it would be, you would have confessed the day you realized your feelings. The idea that you could have been doing this for nearly a year has you cursing whatever forces that kept you apart, though a bitter voice in the back of your head reminded you it was your own stubbornness.

“Then what do you do?” he urges you on.

“Um, I would stay like that for a little while,” you continue, finding it difficult to get your thoughts out into full sentences, “and then when I was close I would… um, like stop playing with my tits. So that I could use that hand to finger myself.”

“Fuck, princess. The way you describe it… I bet you look so pretty when you’re touching yourself,” he groans, now pummeling in and out of you in a steady, fast rhythm. His eyes keep switching between watching you and being scrunched closed, like he’s trying to focus on making this last but still wants to look at your face. “I wanna see it someday. Will you show me?”

“Yeah, mhm, sure,” you agree, not even really paying attention to what he was asking you due to being too lost in what you were experiencing. Your orgasm was near, and you wouldn’t be able to hold it off for much longer. “Eddie, I’m close,” you warn, your nails digging into his back as your arms tighten around his neck.

“Me too, baby,” he says back. The rocking of his hips combined with the closeness of his face caused his lips to brush against yours in a repeated pattern, and the intimacy of that only builds your climax up faster. “Where do you want it?”

Eddie Munson, the bane of your existence for the past couple of years is asking you where you want him to cum. “Inside,” you answer without thought. “Inside me, Eds, I wanna feel you leaking out of me.”

“Oh fuck. You can’t say shit like that to me. How am I supposed to keep living my life like normal after this?” he whines, “Are you gonna cum for me, baby? I want you to go first.”

As he finishes telling you this, the wire snaps and you feel electricity shoot throughout your body. Your second orgasm is much stronger than your first, and considering how the first one had you nearly losing consciousness, that was really saying something. The shockwaves make you feel like you’re literally vibrating around him, and being able to feel his dick twitching as he released his load into you only added to that feeling. You were a moaning mess, gasping in and puffing out little breaths of air as you hopelessly cry out, ‘I’m cumming, Eddie, you’re making me cum,’ along with assorted swears over and over and over. His grip on your waist loosened as he wrapped his arms around your middle and held on tight, burying his head into your neck as he rode out his own orgasm. He muttered something into your skin that you couldn’t quite make out with it being muffled, but it sounded suspiciously close to, ‘I love you,’ and your heart leapt at that possibility.

After a few minutes, after you both gathered yourselfs, he rolled over onto his back and you cuddled up to his side. Your head rested on his bare chest and your arms hugged around his stomach, pulling him as close as you could.

“So,” he starts, his arms folded behind his head and a crooked grin adorning his face, “was I the biggest you’ve taken, or does that happen with all the guys you bring home?”

You furrow your brows in confusion as you turn your head to look at him. “What do you mean?” you manage to mumble out.

“I mean, how tight you were. And how you couldn’t take all of me at first,” he says, like it was obvious.

“Well, in sex-ed they said the first time usually hurts. This wasn’t as bad as I was expecting though, just kinda stung a little bit at first,” you explain, laying your head flat against him once more and scraping at the nail on your index finger with your thumb.

Eddie stops moving and is quiet for a good thirty seconds. You start to feel a trickling of doubt, and become anxious that you somehow said the wrong thing. He reaches up to take your hand in his, effectively stopping your nervous finger picking and stealing your attention. When you glance back up at him he’s staring at you with wide eyes and an open mouth.

“Princess,” he says slowly, like somehow you were the one in this situation not making any sense, “You’re not telling me that was your first time.”

Oh. You suppose that was a pretty important tidbit of information you withheld that he probably would’ve liked to have known before you engaged in intercourse. In your defense, there was no reason for him to assume you weren’t a virgin. You only graduated high school the year prior, and during your time at Hawkins you never had a serious boyfriend. Even when you were being crowned prom queen, your date to the dance was James McKenna, and he came out as gay the week after graduation before moving to New York. Sure, you were privy to the rumors thrown around in the boy’s locker room about what you did to this guy under the bleachers and what you did to that guy at Skull Rock, but there was no more gossip surrounding you than the average cheerleader.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize, suddenly feeling guilty for not being completely transparent. “I guess I just thought you knew, or like, would be able to tell?” you say, your intonation changing to a questioning lilt by the end of your sentence.

He starts blinking his wide eyes frantically, his head shaking in disbelief as he tries to think of what to say. That self conscious dread from earlier starts to sneak it’s way back in, and you begin having second thoughts, worrying if he- like your high school friends- thought it was weird that you waited to have sex. He must have noticed the fear in your eye, because he held you tighter against him and comfortingly rubbed up and down your forearm.

“It’s nothing bad, I promise,” he says, speaking quickly. “I guess I just assumed. I mean, you were so popular. Everyone wanted you, anyone would have been lucky to have you-” you smile and blush at his words- “And those guys on the basketball team were always bragging and telling stories-”

“If a plate of spaghetti grew legs and started walking around, those guys would claim that they fucked it. Why would you listen to that noise?” you interjected, your annoyance clear.

He held his hands up in defense. “You’re right, I don’t know why I believed any of that crap. I know you have better taste than that. I mean, you like me, so that proves you have a much more sophisticated taste in men.”

“Sophisticated is one word for it, I guess,” you mumble while rolling your eyes, before sitting up to grab your nightie from the foot of the bed.

“If you weren’t active, why were you on the pill?” he questions you while rubbing your back.

“I’m a grown woman. I figured it was going to happen eventually, and I wanted to make sure I was ready when it did,” you answer distractedly as you work on turning your pajamas the right side out.

Eddie hums in understanding but is otherwise quiet as he watches you redress yourself, except for a cheeky wolf whistle when you need to bend over to pick up your panties. Once you're covered up again, you turn around to see him staring at you in amusement.

“What?” you ask with a smile, climbing back onto the bed and throwing a leg over his thighs, settling onto his lap. The tips of your noses brush against each other as you see that gleam in his eyes you recognize as him trying to stifle laughter when teasing you. “What is it?” you repeat, shoving him gently on his chest before looping your arms around his neck.

He shakes with silent laughter then leans back to quirk a brow at you. “A plate of spaghetti?” he asks. You grab a pillow to hit him in the head with, but drop it when you’re tackled and pinned down, giggling and kicking your feet as he kisses up your collar bone.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #stranger things fanfic #stranger things smut

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yoha-oa-art · 3 months

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Hello! Just popping in to ask something really quick.

I was wondering if you could draw Jack Howl's family, like you did for other TWST families. I didn't see a link to a post for anything like this, so I'm assuming you haven't drawn them. Feel free to correct me if I'm wrong.

I've just been very curious about Jack's more personal life as I've gotten more into his character. It's said that he has a little brother and sister, as well as parents and grandparents, but they are never named or seen, so I've just been very interested to see what they'd look like!

Of course, this is totally optional and all and you are definitely free to ignore this if you aren't interested, too busy, or just don't take requests for drawings.

Anyways, that was all! Have a nice day/night, and don't forget to take breaks when you're drawing! ★

To be honest i drew his siblings about 6 months ago and forgot about them ｡⁠◕⁠‿⁠◕⁠｡anyway here you go💛

Howl family 🐺🌵

The Howl mom and dad

I wanted to make a dad.... I made a daddy....why does he give Leona vibes? Anyway I'm naming him Rudolph

The mother looks like she gives warm hugs i love how she turned out<3 I'll name her Kaelyn

The little Siblings

MY BABIES I JUST CAN'T

The boy is Jonathan I don't know why but Jonathan it is, the girl I chose for her Celine💚💛

The grandparents

Yes, she's Human I did this on purpose, I couldn't have forgot to add the ears never ⁦◉⁠‿⁠◉⁩...... Heidi

At least I remembered while drawing the grandfather + for some reason i feel he has abs.... I couldn't choose a name for him if any of you have names I'd love to hear them 🩵

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #art #digital art #twst jack #jack howl

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cozycottagetarot · 5 months

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What Do They Fantasize About You 18+

How To Pick A Pile:

Everyone has their own technique for choosing a 'pile'. My recommendation is to clear your mind and focus on each image for a few seconds. The image you find yourself coming back to even when you focus on the other images is the pile for you.

Quick notes on this reading:

I'm experimenting with a different style. -- I've been working on shorter, less structured, formal pacs (and some longer ones). I'm not sure how I feel about it but I'd like to hear your thoughts too! It's 18+ but not explicit. -- I've always shied away from these kinds of readings because I didn't know how to make them authentic and within my comfort zone but I figured it out. It does involve sexual themes but it's not explicit (as in graphic or using strong language.) However, it is not intended for minors, so if your are a minor check out this one here instead.

It's purely for entertainment purposes. -- Don't think I need to explain more. Take what resonates be it all of it, some of it or none at all.

PILE 1

Your person fantasizes of just watching you. Admiring your body, naked or clothed. Watching you enjoy the little luxuries of life. They might fantasize about you being better than them in a way. I'm not sure what's the correct way to phrase it. More like you're of a higher status than they are, and you giving them your attention is enough. You letting them touch you, not even in an inherently sexual way, is a bonus. They might feel like their status is elevated when they get to be in or on your arm/s. They could fantasize about you turning them on or pleasuring them in a coy manner... You know you’ve got it (it being looks, charm, them wrapped around your finger) and you tease them about it-- but it’s so subtle, so gentle, it dances on the fine line of being oblivious versus intentional. Star/Starlet vibes. They love everything about you, all parts of your body gets attention. They could love your hair, especially if it's of lighter hues, or has red undertones (even for brown hair because some brown hair has hints of more yellow while others are more red).

For some of you it maybe that you’re mildly intimidated by them in some format. Shying away from them in some manner so they give off that let me worship you energy to get you more comfortable with them. Another vibe I pick up on is learning to love something about yourself and being more comfortable in who you are and they’re your cheerleader unconditionally cheering you on.

PILE 2

I feel like this is someone you had to warm up to. Their energy is one of being very doting, but the energy I’m reading for you is like "ugh, really?" When it comes to this person initially. It feels like someone who wants to reassure you (or wants you to reassure them), wants to make sure they are pleasing you in every and any way they can properly. This extends to outside of the bedroom. If you’ve got a craving, they’re off to get it before you can even think to bat your eyes. They’ve got eyes for no one but you. Heavy on the princess treatment. They may fantasize about taking control, but still in a gentle or compassionate way. They’re in charge but you’re still royalty for the day. They'd want to make sure you're comfortable and enjoying yourself (more than 'normal'). They may fantasize about having sexual encounters with you in places surrounded by nature. Not anywhere where you could be easily caught though. Fantasies of stealing you away from your responsibilities to have a moment with you. They may favour your chest. I'm also getting soft brushes of the skin with the occasional more forceful touch— how do I describe it? I've talked about this gentleness, but this is more like pulling you closer because they need you in your arms but it's a tad rougher than you'd expect. They could fantasize about light bondage as well. Getting you all dressed up and wining and dining you all while anticipating to take it off.

Pile 3

The energy here feels a little bit magical or unreal, like you two mirror each other greatly, or complement one another well. It's as though you two operate as a unit and less so two individuals trying to make something work together. I feel like that makes no sense but whatever. I very much get a "let's stay in and roll around in the sheets all day and night" vibe with this one... although it's more like any surface or room is fair game. This person may favour your behind over anything else. But it's very much a balance of both of you being in control. Very much in sync. There could be lots of taking turns or incorporating different sensory elements as well. An exploration of one another truly. Fantasizing about aftercare is another prominent possibility as well. Cuddling and pillow talk. There's also being spent after you two are through with each other. Or maybe it's a sense of relief and release. They may fantasize about you the most when they need to blow off steam, (they) just get lost in the thought of being with you. I actually repulled the cards (because there's always one pile) but a few of the same cards kept coming out and it was packed with major arcana. Justice, The Wheel, The Emperor AND The Empress. There’s also the Magician and while I'm not exactly reading the cards how I normally do, it feels like this relationship/connection isn’t ready yet. It's a feeling of something momentous that when it happens, you'll know. That's all I really pick up on there. They could fantasize about just staying in. Maybe both of you are under some kind of scrutiny respective to your social circles or careers. Leaders or innovators of some kind. Or maybe on a more general level, you’ve grown the resolve to not only wear your 'crown', that thing that makes you special, but own it too. A lot of abundant energy and energy of growth. They could really fantasize about shutting out the rest of the world with you.

Pile 4

This person seems so much in their feelings I don't know if to laugh, cringe, or cry for them. So much is going on in the cars, like an internal storm wreaking havoc on someone's life. There are undercurrents of them feeling or being selfish too? This person could be a traditionalist of sorts. It comes across as very possessive like they’re off their rocker worrying about you being into other people. BUT HEAR ME OUT! With my post-reading clarity, I think this person is a catastrophiser. So instead of 'hot fantasies' being at the forefront of their mind when thinking of you, anxiety, limiting beliefs or something else may get the best of them. It sounds absurd but if you've been there you know and if not then tell me your secret! Anyway, it could be long-distance relationship and that's the reason why. They may fantasize about being able to touch your body. They may like to play footsies. You could be very attractive and so they’re worried about losing you to someone else and it’s literally making them crazy. A third-party situation seems likely as well, real but most likely imagined.

Because this isn't a psych analysis, I pulled more cards. Quickies and stolen moments are the vibe for this pile. Initially, I wrote something about it that just seems so wrong but again I think it's more of not allowing oneself to fantasize about good things happening. I could only keep describing it as if being in the mind of someone tormented. Fantasies of finding home within you but something lingering in the distance, never really enjoying one to fully enjoy the moment unless their eyes are closed. They could have fantasies of having influence over you... being able to convince you to stay. (more so if you two are together physically instead of having to separate in distance again). Fantasies of holding you tight. Wishing they could give themselves to you fully.

While I was reading a song that came to me was 'Lose You' by Sam Smith — word for word that song embodied a lot of the emotions and energy I was picking up.

#pick a card reading #pick an image #pick a card #pick a pile #pac reading #cozycottagetarot

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hina-hina · 1 year

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Last request! (I apologise if i request too much) I have a funny idea inside of my head, Could you do a dad headcanons of Ghost, Soap, Alejandro + König found out his and F! s/o's child has a innocent crush or how they act towards on their crush. How the 141 boys would react?

I can imagine if their child is a boy, I think they might tease their child about the "crush" thingy. If their child is a girl, ohh boy I think they're a type of a dad who said "no boys until you're 18 young lady" or being protective dad.

bonus: I think some of them might cry on their child for being " grown up so fast"

Hello again!! Don't worry about requesting too much, I love every request I get!! But this idea is so stinkin cute （〃｀ 3′〃）Thank you for requsting and I hope you enjoy!!

We have a healthy mix of boy!child and girl!child, I really just used whatever I felt fit the best within the character. The child in this is like middle school age or younger here.

→ COD Masterlist

|| How Ghost, Soap, Alejandro + König Would React When Their Child Has a Crush ||

Warnings: Some angst (not really)

Female!Reader // Romantic + Platonic

|| Ghost

The child is a girl because Girl Dad Ghost brain rot is real

I have mentioned this 100 times but he is observant, right?

So he is back from base for a leave and decides he is gonna go and pick up your child from school

And while he is awkwardly standing among the other parents, he notices you talking with a young boy

He is horrified because you are blushing profusely

Doesn't say anything to his kid but as soon as he comes home and the kid runs off to her room, he just latches onto you and is like "We need to talk."

And your immediately worried because you think something is seriously wrong

Then he just tells you about her blushing at the boy and you let out a little relieved laugh

But then you tell him there is nothing wrong with someone her age having a harmless crush but he can't help it

He is incredibly protective and knows just how cruel young boys can be

He just doesn't want her to get hurt

Expect the next time that he goes to pick her up, he is just glaring this boy down

If they do start dating, the boy better be prepared for the most terrifying shovel talk ever

|| Soap

We will do a boy child for him

So, I imagine the kid is like smiling at his phone or something at family dinner

And Soap jokingly asks if he is talking to a girl and when the kid blushes and tells him to stop he knows he unintentionally was correct

He is very quiet all throughout dinner until the two of you go to bed

You ask him what's wrong and he just starts silently crying because his son is growing up and he misses so much of it because of work

You just hold him and let him cry it out until morning

You reassure him that you and your son know that his work is important and that you both will also be there for him when he gets back

He has a mildly awkward heart-to-heart with his kid after that about how, despite him having to leave so often, that he would also be there for him

He would then go on to give the kid really bad dating advice

At that point, your quick to swoop in and dispute what Soap says for no other reason to see him get flustered when you explain how he embarrassed himself when the two of you met

|| Alejandro

We will do a female child for him because, once again, girl dad vibes

Very, very, protective girl dad vibes

When you jokingly mention that your daughter is fostering a crush on someone from school? He needs to know everything

What is this boys name, who are his parents, when did you find out

You will need to take a moment to calm him down before telling him anything else

He would want to talk to the boy immediately, despite you telling him that it's nothing more than a innocent crush

When the two of them meet one time, say your daughter introduces him to the two of you at pick-up one day, he is all intimidating glares

The boy is clearly very nervous so you have to shove him to get him to lighten up

When he sees how happy your daughter is when hanging out with him, he softens

"As long as you're happy, hija."

God help this boy if he ever hurts her though-

|| König

To keep it even, we will do a boy child for this one

I see him absolutely loving spending one-on-one time with his kid from time to time

So during one of these outings, he admits that there is a girl he likes at his school

He is in shock because of course the kid is at that age but he is still completely caught off guard

If the kid tries to ask for advice he would just have to be like, "Your mother kinda just threw me over her shoulder and I accepted it."

He is not that big of a flirt but he does know a thing or two

Encourages the kid to be observant (not in a creepy way) to pick up on the things she likes

He overall just encourages his kid to be nice and to pay attention to what she likes

He also encourages him to be more outgoing because he regrets not being as open when pursuing you

When König tells you about this later, your all over him with kisses and "awe"s

And who could blame you truly?

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thechekhov · 6 months

Text

Dungeon Meshi Quick Reacts: CH:23

Senshi's need for culinary pursuit is stronger than any dragon.

This has huge Aeor vibes and I'm very much here for it. Not a direct comparison, of course, but the idea of a long abandoned city full fo magic.... yes, good. Goooood.

This man has his priorities in order. You can't find flour just ANYWHERE in the dungeon. No better time than now.

Also - aww, they got rid of the frog costumes... :(

NOOOOO THE PUBBIES?!?!??!?!

On the bright side, this thing is probably exhausted if it hasn't rested and recharged. A large animal like that needs to either consume a lot of food or sleep a hella long time.

On the not so bright side, who even knows why it's on a rampage? Nothing is predictable. Marcille is right to be worried.

Chill.......chuck.

He really said 'this isn't in my contract and I ain't getting paid enough to die'.

Yeah, 5 is much better than 3. And you've got no cleric, even though Marcille can cast healing spells for some reason.

Super not comforting. But effective.

this bridge is holding up better than marcille's mental state at the moment.........

the alternative is literally to go 'well, sorry Falin' so........I guess that's the correct reply, yeah.

Aww, he chilled :3 And next, to chuck. rocks. At the dragon.

Can you imagine? Two dragons for the price of one!

You can be digested together with your beloved, Marcille.

Senshi is NOT on board with risking his sushi fillet knives to stab a dragon, I see.

No, he's right. You're gonna need those carbs. MY question is why that bread is so damn shiny. That's usually something you get by brushing egg onto the bread, and he specifically says they don't have eggs. Suspicious....

Soy sauce. Incredibly useful to have on hand, when you're making Japanese based dungeon meals.

Aww, he's got the Inspiring Speech/Leader feat! Come get your free temp hitpoints!

Also, Senshi smiling is just the cutest damn thing.

Good timing.

What an incredible design! It's so--

Where are its wings...? It...does have wings, right?

It's about to get SPICYYYY! >:)

#dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #chekhov reads dungeon meshi #dungeon meshi liveblog

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buddierecs · 13 days

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hurt/comfort buddie fics.

all of these are general audience, teen and up or not rated (no smut) make sure to kudos/comment on these amazing works :)

a leaf falls on loneliness (highly recommend this fic!!) by: iimpossible_things "buck doesn’t think that if he were to say, “i’m in a bad place”, that anyone would turn him away. really, he doesn’t. the 118 has too many good, kind people for that. but every time he wants to open his mouth, to say something, to reach out to eddie or bobby or hen or chim, he hears eddie yelling, “you’re exhausting.” —you’re exhausting, you’re exhausting, you’re exhausting— so each day he does his job and he laughs and he jokes and he pretends he’s the care-free goofball he’s always been. And each day he packs away his bruises and his worries, takes them home to his empty loft with its quiet rooms, and licks his wounds in silence." word count: 11k important tags: angst, fluff, happy ending, orginal male character blue skies by: spaceprincessem "buck meets another savior baby and everything comes crashing down" word count: 36k important tags: my sisters keeper au, original characters, ptsd, nightmares, emotional whump, evan buckley break down, getting together and i'm not good at winning fights anymore by: spaceprincessem "five times buck needs to feel eddie's heartbeat and the one time eddie needs to feel his" word count: 24k important tags: 5+1 things, whump, protective!eddie diaz, getting together, soft boys in love, ptsd give your heart and soul to charity by: 42hrb "eddie dumps god, gets some more therapy, accepts parts of himself he was taught to hate, loves his best friend, and loves himself" word count: 12k important tags: emotional hurt/comfort, pov eddie diaz, character study, catholic guilt, therapy, pining, getting together i could find you darling, in any life by: justhockey "buck and eddie meet in afghanistan. it changes everything." word count: 27k important tags: diferent first meeting au, army!eddie diaz, navy seal!evan buckley, emotional infidelity, slow burn, hurt/comfort, love confessions catharsis by: rogerzsteven "it only takes one minor inconvenience for buck to have his long overdue breakdown" word count: 5.3k important tags: emotional hurt/comfort, mental/emotional breakdown, bobby nash as evan buckley parent, multiple pov stay by: soft_satan buck’s voice was soft and hesitant, but full of patience when he finally spoke again. “did I do something to upset you, chris? i can leave—” "no!” chris whirled on him, a complete shift from the standoffish vibe he had been giving a second ago. the tears he bravely held back finally broke free from his eyes, sliding down his rosy cheeks from behind his glasses. he shook his head vehemently, the yellow crayon falling to the table. “no, I’m not mad. please…” his words turned to whimpers, his lip trembling. “please don’t leave me too.” word count: 31k important tags: whump, angst, family feels, found family, getting together, team as family

habits by: whileyouresleeping "buck's not sure what's going on when eddie starts kissing him on the head after a rough call, only now it's a thing, and it's a thing buck would very much like to continue if he knew what it meant." word count: 4.9k important tags: tooth-rotting fluff, mild hurt/comfort stick with you by soft_satan "eddie licked his dry lips as he reached for his radio, trying to keep his movements slow and delicate to prevent any more damage to himself or buck. “diaz to captain nash.” “go for nash,” came bobby’s quick reply. “you two okay? where are you?” “we’re in a bit of a sticky situation here…” “we’re a shish kabob, cap!” buck chimed in. eddie rolled his eyes" word count: 5.9k important tags: impalements, whump, getting together, love confessions, hurt!buddie still by: brewsrosemilk "for the first time, buck longs for a bullet wound to treat. dirt to dig at. a door to break through. something. there’s nothing. “your guess was correct, diaz,” the bomb technician tells them, as he gestures to the orange circle. “you’re standing on a large sensor plate, wired to a detonator. It’s incredibly important that you don’t move. don’t shift. when you put your weight down, it was like cocking a gun - you take your weight off, this thing is powerful enough to take the entire house with it." word count: 9.3k important tags: near death experience, love confessions, happy ending, first kiss

be my baby (i'll look after you) by: youdrewstarsaroundmyscars118 "buck finally breaks down after fixing everyone but himself" word count: 1.5k important tags: nightmares, ptsd, panic attacks, pet names, cuddling, pre-relationship, almost love confession i was made for you by: youdrewstarsaroundmyscars118 "buck’s taking care of christopher while eddie is in texas when chris gets sick and has to get surgery." word count: 5.3k important tags: sick!christopher diaz, parent evan buckley, hospitals, bobby nash is evan buckley's parent, getting together, 118 crew as family i know you're hurting (but so am i) by: justhockey "eddie understands better than maybe anyone else ever could, how it feels to have everything unravel in the palm of your hands. he knows frustration - he knows fury. he’s painfully familiar with that burning rage that crackles in the tips of your fingers, that makes your skin hot and chest tight, and makes you want to punch anyone that dares to even look at you. but that doesn’t give chim the right to lay a damn hand on buck" word count: 3.7k important tags: ptsd, feelings realisation, protective!eddie diaz, communication, 5x04 coda of bikes and concussions by: datleggy "buck gets into an accident on his way to work in the morning, and before he can explain why he's late, he gets thoroughly chewed out and the rest of his day goes way downhill from there." word count: 7.6k important tags: injured!evan buckley, misunderstandings, father-son relationship (buck and bobby), team as family it's okay by: itsmylifekay "buck gets hurt on a call and doesn’t tell anyone." word count: 11k important tags: injury, dissociation, buck needs a hug love language by: whileyouresleeping "eddie's love language is acts of service, and buck doesn't totally get it." word count: 6.4k important tags: mild hurt/comfort, pining, fluff, friends to lovers don't go without me by: ingu "there was a snap, and a crack, and buck was suddenly weightless. the car, the tree, eddie, everything was falling. buck was falling. falling." word count: 31k important tags: major character injury, pining, team as family, whump, love confessions, getting together accidental (please check tw!!) by: rosefield "post lawsuit, buck accidentally cuts his arm. he decides that maybe not getting help is best for everyone." word count: 36k important tags: depression, suicide attempt, post-lawsuit, worried!eddie diaz, happy ending

check out the recs for mature rating hurt/comfort fics :) explicit rating hurt/comfort fics

#will definitely be doing a pt2 for this trope #911 fandom #911 show #911 abc #911 fox #buddie smut #buddie fic #evan buckley #book tropes #buck x eddie #buck x eddie fic #eddie diaz #hurt/comfort fics #hurt/comfort #ao3feed #ao3 link #ao3 #evan buck buckley

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starry-bi-sky · 17 days

Note

Cannon Danny, Danyal Au and CFAU met, waht does each other think of the other and do they get along?

I'VE TALKED ABOUT THIS BEFORE WITH FRIENDS IN DMS! WOOO I'M GLAD YOU ASKED! beCAUSE.

Cfau Danny and Canon Danny get along, but Danyal and Canon abso-fucking-lutely do not. It's hillarious. Danyal is appalled that this fucking white boy is another version of him -- that Al Ghul arrogance and pride really shines through here, you can’t get rid of all of it.

Cfau Danny is a sleeper agent, honestly. I'm putting all three of them around the 15 age range because any younger and CFAU won't be as Sleeper Agent. Him and Canon get along pretty well because they’re both pretty similar to each other when CFAU's not in active grief. CFAU is a bit rough around the edges, and canon is surprised by his smoking habit and sharp tongue, but he’s a relatively friendly dude. Just snarky and no-nonsense at times, and intolerant of bullshit.

However the moment a ghost fight starts?? BAM. he shifts into a house of horrors who can and will rip out your throat with his teeth. Banshee boi haha. Canon is floating there all “???? HUH???” watching as Danyal and CFAU full on tackle the opposition.

Canon Danny watches in 4k as Danyal hunts Skulker down mercilessly and tears open the “damn poacher’s” suit with his bare hands. Vlad is only safe because he isn't showing his face (yet).

Frankly all of canon’s rogues are gonna have a blast meeting CFAU and Danyal. They’re both two different flavors of unhinged violence, and they’re on the opposite side of the spectrum. One is an elegant storm of blades with years of fine-tuned practice, and the other is the brutality of the backstreets and Gotham’s cruelty; messy, bloody, and merciless.

Canon and Danyal will eventually start getting along, but they’re pretty — well, correction, Danyal is pretty hostile to canon at first. Its a combination of tension, stress, and frustration with canon and what Danyal perceives as canon’s incompetence. Danyal struggles to understand how canon is anyway a version of him beyond the name and halfa status. He starts understanding better when he sees Phantom fighting and sees his resourcefulness and quick thinking.

I have this funny mental image of the three Dannys all in the quad at school (with Sam and Tucker). Danyal is sitting on the table giving off Major Gargoyle vibes, warding off Dash and other bullies through pure "Little Orphan Tom Riddle" Energy alone, while CFAU is standing off to the side with Canon showing him how to throw a proper punch. Sam and Tucker are staring at Danyal, or they're just casually eating their lunch.

Dash isn't going near Danyal with a ten foot pole, but he'll try his chances with Sleeper Agent CFAU who, despite the "edgy" smoking thing and more alternative style, acts and looks almost the same way "Fenturd" does. He gets socked in the jaw the moment he goes over and grabs CFAU's shirt, and CFAU releases the full verbal force of Crime Alley's fist down unto him.

----

To properly answer your question:

Canon Danny: Thinks CFAU is pretty cool, and views him as kind of like a cooler, terrifying version of him. He's off-put by the smoking thing and totally thrown off by CFAU being a banshee. He's only heard from word-of-mouth about them, and it sounds like a shitty existence to be in permanent grief. He's glad he's never had to fight one.

If this is purely canon Danny and not DPxDC adjacent-canon Canon Danny, then he's glad that Gotham doesn't exist in his world because holy fuck that place sounds like the home of nightmares. But he also kinda wishes there was a Jason in his world, the guy sounded like a really good friend if CFAU is to be believed, and Danny needs more of those in the world. He's infinitely more grateful that Dan is nothing like how Rath sounds. Because Rath sounds like something straight out of an apocalypse movie. (Granted, Dan could be argued to be the same, but he gives off more 'generic supervillain' vibes.)

He thinks Danyal is an asshole at first who needs to get that stick out of his ass, along with his head. But once they start getting along, he finds him rather funny and enjoys his dry wit, along with CFAU's. He's unnerved by Danyal's willingness to kill if necessary, but he admires his dedication and love for his little brother (if Danyal brings him up). He knows he'd be in the same boat with Jazz or Ellie if he was in Danyal's shoes. He recognizes that their core fundamentals ring the same, even if the both of them tend to show it differently.

CFAU Danny: Thinks Canon is pretty cool too. Is thrown off and very unsettled by the idea that Jason might not exist in this world, and that he and this other Danny aren't friends. He genuinely just. cannot comprehend the idea that well, and if he thinks about it too hard he's going to go into a Banshee-Grade Level Grief Spiral and nobody is gonna wanna see that. Soothes his own nerves by telling himself that this other him will meet Jason eventually.

Kinda thinks Danyal is also a jerk, but he recognizes that it comes from a place of fear and general self-defense. He's seen other kids do similar stuff in crime alley where they completely close themselves off from other people -- hell, he does it. It's a safety mechanism, so he's more empathetic with him. They're not buddy-buddy with each other at first, but they're certainly not hostile like Danyal is with Canon. Is entirely baffled and thrown off by the fact that Danyal is related to Bruce fucking Wayne when Danyal tells them about his brother Damian. Can't help but ask about Jason and if he's alive, and is insanely jealous but so happy when Danyal confirms that he is.

Danyal Al Ghul: Homie hates this fucking white boy at first. Canon Danny's general playful behavior and inexperience drives him up a wall because he's incredibly tense and in an alternate dimension. He unintentionally slips back into a League Training mindset, and criticizes Danny's every move during a fight. He eventually apologizes, but just like his father, it's like pulling teeth because he's emotionally constipated. Canon asks Danyal if he was in pain while saying anything, Danyal readily admits to yes, he was. But not because he wasn't sincere about it. Afterwards, Canon still kinda annoys him, but once DAnyal reframes his mindset into viewing him more like a civilian and being more like Ella, rather than being an alternate version of himself, his mistakes become easier to bear.

likes CFAU! They both took one look at each other and thought "wow there is something Fucking Wrong With You" and instantly shared solidarity in that. CFAU is still a sloppy fighter in Danyal's eyes, but he recognizes his own bias, and at least CFAU is ruthless and swift with it compared to Canon. He silently.. mourns??? pays respects?? He Has Somber Emotions about CFAU being a banshee, and offers him basically the Danyal Equivalent of "that's rough, buddy". He's very weirded out about how neither of these Daniels are related to his father, and are not Damian's brother. Has no idea who this "Rath" and "Dan" are because he doesn't (to his knowledge) have an alternate evil self.

#dpxdc #danny fenton is not the ghost king #danyal al ghul au #childhood friends au #cfau #starry asks #dpxdc crossover #cfau 🤝 danyal: you have something dark and violent lurking beneath the thin layers of your skin and it awaits release. i'll drink to that #they all eventually create a brotherly bond and somehow CFAU is the eldest. Danyal nearly gets into a catfight with Danny again #and cfau just sighs like a weary mother and goes 'i need a fucking smoke' before leaving to do just that.

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tenswrld · 1 year

Text

soup!

mark lee x reader, super fluffy bc this is my literal bf and he makes me want to cry 25/8

a/n: mark brainrot has been so bad lately the delusions are getting to me

“where do you wanna go for lunch today?” you asked your boyfriend, who was currently mindlessly scrolling through his phone.

it was mark’s day off from his tour, leaving you and him to explore chicago on your own. like the lovely significant other you are, you decided to treat mark out for lunch as a way to reward him for all the hard work that he’s been doing.

“uhm,” he thought for a second before letting out an awkward laugh. “i don’t really know what’s around here.”

you thought about taking him somewhere fancy; somewhere where you could proudly treat your boyfriend to expensive ass food (even if it did leave you and your wallet crying by the end of the night) because, to you, mark deserved nothing but the absolute best. thus, you began to search for some of the more famous spots in chicago. a curious hum from your lover quickly interrupted you and caught your attention.

“johnny was talking about this one place he used to go to all the time,” he trailed off, trying to remember the name. “it’s, like, a bakery...?”

“a bakery...” you mumbled to yourself, smiling at the idea. “that would be cute!”

“i think it was called panera...?” mark sat up, ready to call johnny to confirm if his memory was correct. “yeah, i’m pretty sure that’s what it was called.”

you couldn’t help but let out a small laugh. “you want to go to panera?”

mark smiled at the sound of your laughter and turned to look at you. “yeah, i’m down! i want to see what johnny was raving about.”

“it’s not all that fancy though, just a warning,” you replied. not that there was anything wrong with panera, but you wanted to treat mark to something...better than panera.

mark shrugged, moving a stray piece of hair out of your eyes. “i don’t care about that. as long as i get to spend time with you, i can eat anything.”

flushed, you looked away and stood up, pulling mark up with you. “alright! panera it is!”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the two of you stood aside as you browsed the menu together. you hummed nostalgically with a soft smile on your face as you took in the atmosphere.

“you know, i used to come to panera a lot when i was in high school, too,” you told your boyfriend (who was meticulously observing his different options of soup).

at this, mark turned his head to you. “really? that’s dope, i didn’t know that.” the excitement in his voice made you chuckle, finding your boyfriend extremely endearing. “okay, should i get the chicken soup, or the broccoli cheddar? what vibe are we feeling today?”

after a moment, you leaned into his shoulder. “how about the chicken soup? we can share that and i can get us a pizza to share too.”

mark nodded and placed a soft kiss on your head, silently agreeing to your proposal. he let out a sudden gasp, catching you off guard. “woah, wait, you can get your soup in a bread bowl?” he looked at you as if to get your opinion and was only met with a fond smile. he took that as a way of you saying you liked the idea as much as he did. “dude, let’s do that.”

“i’ll order, you can find us a place to sit.” you gently pushed mark, determined to pay for your guys’ meal today.

mark frowned, keeping close to your side. “what? no, no, i can order, you should go sit.”

you placed your hands on mark’s shoulders, stopping him in his place. “let me treat you today, okay? you deserve it.” after mark made no effort to move, you pleaded one more time. “please? let me do this for you.”

although reluctant, mark eventually gave into you. he placed a quick peck on your cheek before turning around to go find a table for you two. “i’m treating us to dessert after this, then.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

“oh my god.”

you couldn’t help but laugh at the way that mark marveled at the food in front of him. he happily took photos of his bread bowl (and the pizza, but he was more excited about the bread bowl), and insisted on taking cute photos of you despite your constant whining about not being photogenic enough. you also took photos of mark, though he was too focused on the soup to notice that you were.

mark dipped his spoon into the soup and raised it towards you, urging you to take the first bite (slurp ??). “here, taste it.”

leaning over the table, you hummed happily at the taste of the warm soup. maybe it was because of the cold weather in chicago, but the soup tasted especially good (or, maybe it was because you were eating it with the person you loved the most). “wow, that’s really good!”

mark took a napkin and wiped at a small drop of soup that dripped onto your chin before bringing the spoon to his mouth as well. leaning back in his seat, mark sighed in content, very clearly enjoying the soup. “damn,” he said after a second. “that’s some good soup. i see why you and johnny would come here all the time.”

“i think i only ever got the mac n cheese so, this is pretty new for me too,” you admitted, laughing at the look of disbelief on your boyfriend’s face.

“all those choices and you chose mac n cheese?” he teased you before feeding you another spoonful of soup.

“hey, the mac n cheese is really good, okay? and i was, like, sixteen.” you pouted at him.

“yeah, sixteen and clearly missing out on some good soup.” mark laughed at you, wincing after you gently kicked him under the table. “maybe we’ll have to come back sometime so you can treat me to this famous mac n cheese.”

smiling and reaching over to gently poke at his free hand, you agreed. “i think panera dates should be our thing whenever we come to the u.s., hm?”

mark shrugged. “that would be cool. i would eat anywhere with you, you know.” he took your hand in his and played with your fingers as he stared fondly at you.

you scrunched up your nose, feigning disgust. “you’re so corny.” mark only let out a soft chuckle and squeezed your hand that was still held in his.

“thanks for lunch today. you didn’t have to do that,” he thanked you softly, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles.

“i wanted to treat you out today. you’ve been working really hard, it’s the least that i could do,” you confessed to him. “you’re doing great, you know? i don’t think i tell you that enough.”

dipping his head down, mark let out small noises of embarrassment. “don’t say things like that, you’re gonna make me blush.” he tried to fight the smile that was slowly growing on his face, but it was no use. “thank you, y/n. i love you.”

you pressed a quick kiss to his knuckles, your heart swelling at his words. “i love you too. now let’s fuck up this food!”

#i am down so bad #everyday i suffer #mark my beloved #just one chance PLEASE #mark lee #mark lee fluff #mark lee x reader #mark lee oneshot #mark lee drabbles #nct mark #nct 127 #nct dream #nct scenarios #nct drabbles #nct fluff #nct oneshot #lee minhyung

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oleanderscorner · 7 months

Note

I offer you, the highest of my ideas

Yandere Twst X Overblot Yuu.

Vibes? IMMACULATE

Everyone’s like “oooh overblot twst so hooot” NO! I WANT THEM TO DO THAT. FOR ME. IN THE WORST WAYS POSSIBLE.

fuck the calculation n’ clever shit. I want them to run onto scene and go 👀👀

(Specifically if you wanna: Dorm leaders + Leech twins + Ace + Deuce.)

I think I can do this in more of a series—but I’ll do this in this more analysis-like format…let’s start with Vil because I think he would be the most fun.

Yandere!Vil x OB!Yuu

TW: manipulative behavior, obsessing, toxic and abusive themes, self harm—YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

Vil Schoenheit

I think everyone can agree that Vil is often an incredibly misrepresented character—whether or not they know or believe their own interpretation to be completely correct. There’s a lot to his character that doesn’t get represented because it’s hard to represent all of him when he’s incredibly adaptable to his surroundings…

But before we get to him any more—let’s look at Yuu.

Yuu can’t OB in canon but without magic, but a personal theory I’ve had for a long time is that Yuu will gain magic somehow—because like everything else they’re now a part of this world, and while they don’t belong “currently” after saving so many people they’re bound to become part of the world they’re living in, and gain some level of magic or be someone part of the universe who has no magic—which is a little less likely considering where Yuu is placed within this universe.

Yuu’s UM is likely to be more similar to Ruggie’s in that they likely will have some level of control over people and surroundings, however, with the ghost theme of the dorm—it’s better to assume that Yuu’s UM may be to become invisible like a ghost to help in battle same way they always kind of had in game.

An OB would likely be quick as Yuu begins to miss home and just wants to disappear and have everyone forget them—have the world forget them—so that maybe they can go home as they no longer have any remnant of themselves in the universe. Homesickness is a real thing, and if we look at some of the manga Yuus we do know that there is families back home for Yuu to go to, and possibly friends too. It can hit hard after awhile, especially if we go by the year and we don’t know how time there works—which can host so many accidents where Yuu won’t see their family again and as much as Yuu would miss their friends here—home could hit a lot worse.

When not invisible, I’d imagine them covered in cloth similar to a sheet ghost and with ink between the folds and sheets, and nearly translucent—just for the fun of a design.

Now onto the actual OB!YuuxVil

(Might switch Yuu and you because Yuu is the reader, if I say they know that means reader/Yuu)

Vil is observant—he may send Rook or Epel to spy on you or make judgements of character—but he is observant of Yuu and their actions leading up to the overblot. He wanted to prepare for it himself—and hopefully actually stop it. In most instances he would—he knows how to take preventive measures—but…this time he didn’t.

As we know from chapter 5 and his vignettes, Vil is one to get back up again after every failed attempt—and is by far the most adaptable character when it comes to needing to work with a loss. He couldn’t prevent it? Fine—it’s not like anyone else was truly helping (they were), he’ll just have to take extreme measures instead.

He locks you up so you cannot be a danger to yourself and others—likely using something to get you to a secure location (his home if he could help it—it’s incredibly reinforced, his dad and he have crazy fans I’m sure) since Ramshackle would definitely be destroyed and Pomefiore has a ridiculous amount of glass to get you hurt. He normally isn’t the kidnapping type but this situation is incredibly dire, so he has to live up to that role.

Vil struggles with identity and selfishness—he is strict and wants to keep everyone in line, and knows how to battle each person who comes his way with tact and grace to keep people in line. However this is for the betterment of others more than for simple order. This is one of the things where he has to come off as the bad guy in order for people to be better versions of themselves and be better people. He is incredibly used to this role even if he hates it and loathes everything. It’s an identity he doesn’t want but it’s one he’s always going to be stuck with, making it hard to do truly selfish things unless it contributes to his image—something he cares way more about than himself.

All of this is to say that he is certain to try and manage your overblot—and to get you out of it—even if it means he has to be the bad guy and keep you away from things. Even if it means having to use magic spray you can’t hurt yourself and others. Even if it means afterwards you hate him.

Yet there will be times where he calls you beautiful, times where he tells you that you look lovely this way—times where he just praises you. Some of it he believes, but some of it is out of what little selfishness he can manage for himself to not completely be the villain in your eyes. It’s ever so slightly manipulative, but telling him that will only make things worse.

He tries to get you to eat so at least there’s things feeding this magical energy. Some of it is laced with potions to help do just that—because he is incredibly scared that stunting it will kill you or harm you. So he wants to just make sure you don’t completely use it all up.

Vil is determined—but if anything Yuu is the best at breaking his resolve.

Constant egging on about him keeping you here, about him using his magic against you—trying to hurt him for so long. Eventually it can get to be too much—but if Yuu mixes it in with any knowledge they knew of his previous obsession for them. How he wished so dearly to make them the best version of themselves and how he wishes to be a part of the life they had here. How he kept worried eyes on them and made sure more money was slipped into their account for food. Even the jealousy he had to hide constantly around those who also showed interest, and his own plans to outdo them that he constantly overthought and looked over. Or especially how Vil had failed to prevent this overblot? Well, that might just break it.

He’d use his own curses against him to make himself better. Give himself timeframes yo complete things or if there was a certain amount of insults or hits a day something would happen. Pain in his legs—turning old for a few days—a nasty illness—whatever worked to force him to get through to the real you.

Even if he overblot once—he can overblot again—and trust me, it’ll be far worse than it ever was before.

This is a quick take! I’d love to do a full in depth analysis of Vil and how I perceive him, and what I think so many people shove onto him that’s completely unfair of them to do—but I truly hope this does him justice. I’ll probably get to the other dorm leaders and maybe more soon depending on how I feel about an OB Yuu.

Thank you for reading!!

#yandere #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twst #yandere vil schoenheit #yandere Vil #yandere vil x reader #vil schoenheit #twst #twisted wonderland

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guilty-pleasures21 · 1 month

Note

hellO IT IS I! First off I'd like to start by saying hi! I love your writings; you are my favorite long story writer, and I want to STEAL your creative abilities. Reading one of your series rn actually :D

Just wanted to say that before I tell you: if you aren't taking requests or something in this makes you uncomfortable to just discard. OKAY NOW I HAVE AN IDEA

It's another Miguel fic where reader is also spidey. She's actually one of the more techy ones! Imagine engineer from tf2 but not necessarily Texan and can make things so advanced they nearly trump Miguel's devices, plus she has her own office/shop in the society where she makes stuff for other spideys. Reader can make almost anything with enough time and materials. The funky part is: she's really clumsy. Not like "oh no I dropped this stack of papers" clumsy. I mean ENGINEER CLUMSY. She'll hit her head on things, fall, get hit real bad in battle, eat a not-fully-cooked chicken sandwich, and every time she gets back up like it was nothing because she has high constitution. I'm talking slung across a room in battle, Miguel is screaming her name in concern, and she just. Gets up. And brushes dust off her spidey suit. Or she'll be up somewhere, fall from really high, die for a sec, then get up like nothing happened and go on normally.

Thank you for hearing me, I bow my head to you. Apologies if this was too long. Respect to your efforts, and have a good day/night!

AHHHHH!!! I don't know if you'd believe it, but this is my first Miguel request 🤩!! I don't get a lot of requests, so I'm really happy to take them! It gives me a chance to practise my creative writing skills and also a boost whenever I have writer's block (which happens A LOT as you can probably tell by how up and down my posting is 😅).

Thank you for the compliments! I always get a little worried my writings are too long sometimes, but it's nice to know that people enjoy them!

Okay, so I'm not familiar with TF2, but I did a quick search and I hope I've gotten the general vibe of what you were imagining 🥺!

The engineer

ATSV Miguel × clumsy techie fem!reader

Warnings: None.

----------------------------------------------------------

She leaned over Miguel’s arm to sneak a peek at whatever he’d been working on beside her. “You know, if you re-wired this connection here and took these ones out completely, you could increase the charge while using less power.”

He turned to her, an incredulous look on his face. But she just smiled.

“Just try it,” she suggested calmly. “You can always change it back if it doesn’t work.”

“Hmm.” She did have a point; he didn’t have anything to lose by giving it a go. He did as she said, taking out a few of the wires completely, then pulled the trigger on the taser. The end lit up with a spark stronger than it had ever done before and his eyes widened, impressed. “Wow. Good job, arañita.”

She rolled her eyes, but kept the amused expression on her face.

“I’m not your mentee, Miguel.” She turned to face him, then gestured between the both of them. “We’re on the same level. Just say ‘thanks’. Don’t talk down to me like that.”

She shrugged before returning her attention to her own gadget and Miguel raised his eyebrows: he’d only had people respond to him with anger, meeting him head to head and chastising him for what they perceived as his condescending tone. But she just corrected him like he simply hadn’t known any better. He turned back to his desk, suddenly keenly aware of her warm presence beside him, and the two settled back into their usual comfortable silence.

He walked into the cafeteria, unable to ignore his rumbling stomach any longer. But the lunch rush should have been over, so the area shouldn’t have been too crowded by then. His gaze landed on X, seated at a table with Ben, Jess and Peter, and his heart fluttered unexpectedly at the smile on her face. He pushed it down, not wanting to look into it, and walked over to the group. “What are we talking about?”

She shifted over on her bench, giving Miguel enough space to squeeze in beside her, and her stomach flipped when she caught his now-familiar woodsy scent.

“X somehow ate a raw chicken sandwich yesterday and now she says she’s fine!” Ben ousted her immediately.

“It was undercooked!” X insisted. But her correction did nothing to ease the thoughts of salmonella that flooded Miguel’s mind.

“¡Arañita! You can’t do that! Why didn’t you just come here?!”

X paused, caught off guard by the rare concern on his chiselled features.

“Oh. I was at work! But then I got to go home early.” She gave him a playful nudge, flashing him a conspiratorial smile, and Miguel felt his heart speed up again.

“¡Arañita!” he scolded her, trying to maintain his hard expression. But she just continued to fix him with that adorable smile and all he found himself able to do was hang his head and sigh. “What are you having for dinner?”

She twisted in her seat, swinging her leg over the bench to straddle it and face him fully. Miguel ignored the curious glances he noticed the others shooting them out of the corner of his eye and instead focused his attention on X. “Oh, I have some leftover pizza from … two nights ago? I think? So-”

“You are not eating leftover pizza, X,” he warned her, folding his arms across his chest and scrunching his brows together in a serious expression. X felt her stomach tighten at the way his muscles pressed against his suit, then she glanced away, embarrassed.

“Um, but …” What were they talking about again? Oh, right! Pizza! She lifted her gaze back to his. “But they’re serving cheeseburgers tonight!”

“But you always have your chicken patty,” Miguel pointed out, confused by her response. A few of the Spider’s had different food preferences to the others, so the kitchen staff always made sure to keep a stock of different ingredients.

“They ran out,” X told him, hanging her head in disappointment.

“Oh.” Miguel let his arms fall back to his sides, trying to come up with a solution to her predicament. “Well, we can … we can always go out … somewhere … with properly cooked food.” He crossed his arms again as he fixed her with a knowing look and her features broke into a smile. She hopped out of her seat, delighted, but remained standing by his side.

“Thanks, Miguel! I’ll meet you back here at seven!” She bent over to press a quick kiss to the side of his head, then ran off before he could process what had just happened.

“Uh, what just happened?” Ben asked when Miguel remained frozen in his seat, stunned into silence. Hobie’s lips curled into an amused smirk.

“I think boss-man here just asked X out,” he replied. “On a date.” He leaned forward in his seat, wiggling his brows to punctuate his point, and Miguel frowned.

“No, I …” He hadn’t asked her on a date. Had he? He’d never explicitly used the word, but … he had invited her to dinner. With him. Outside of work. Ay, mierda, had he just asked her out on a date?

Hobie laughed at how flustered the large man had become by the tiny little spider, then he started getting up from the table as well.

“Well, you might want to get yourself cleaned up first,” he suggested, nodding at Miguel’s scuffed up suit, the bruise on his cheekbone and the faint trail of stubble dotting his jaw. “I’m not sure if X is into the whole ‘I’ve been awake for the past seventy-two hours wrestling different lowlifes and creeps’ look.” Miguel huffed in irritation.

“She’s never-” ‘complained about it before’, was what he’d been about to say. But that would only make it sound like he cared what she thought about him - like he paid attention to what she thought about him. And then they’d only tease him even more about it being a date. He turned away from them, sniffing in offence. “It’s not a date.”

Jess snickered at his petulant attitude, her features twisted into a knowing expression.

“Okay, but you still have to look presentable, right?” she pointed out. “You’re not just going to drag her to any random restaurant in your Spiderman suit, right? Especially if she’s going to be all nicely dressed up.”

His body heated up at the thought of her being ‘all nicely dressed up’. What would she wear? He’d never seen her in anything other than her Spidersuit before. But she had some really nice curves - curves he’d find his gaze lingering on for a little too long at times. He shook the thought away, pushing his feelings of excitement aside.

“Uh, yeah. Fine. Whatever.” He waved them off, then stood up, shifting in position hesitantly before he walked away. “Message me if you need anything.” He marched away before they could tease him anymore on the subject, but his stomach flipped at the thought of seeing her again later that night.

He walked into the workshop, searching for the small form of his- of X.

“¿Arañita?” he called into the room when he couldn’t find her.

“Workshop!” she yelled from under the table, not knowing whether or not he’d already guessed where she was. “Ugh, where’s my- Ow!” She stood up and rubbed her head where she’d hit it on the underside of the table. And ay, Dios, she looked so cute in her little black dress, her hair neatly done, her features prettily made up. She gave him a sheepish smile as she walked over to him and Miguel felt his heart beat a little faster at the sight.

“Sorry, I was just- Whoa!” Her eyes widened in fear as she slipped on her wrench - lying on the floor in front of her - but Miguel shot a web at her, catching her before she fell to the ground. He tugged her towards him, pulling her into his arms, then he huffed in irritation.

“Be careful, arañita!” he chastised her. “You’re always … You need to be more aware of your surroundings, X.”

“Oh! I …” She trailed off, her mind going blank when she realised how close they were now. She took in his long, dark eyelashes, the flecks of gold in his copper-coloured irises, the tiny scar on his cupid’s bow. She swallowed hard as her gaze fixed itself on his lips and Miguel raised an eyebrow, confused by her silence.

“¿Arañita?”

“Huh?” She dragged her eyes back up to his, but her expression remained distracted as she looked up at him. “Oh! Sorry, I …”

She curled up against his chest, suddenly shy, and his heart sped up as he realised how close they were now: her slender fingers brushing against his chest, her soft curves wrapped up in his arms, her silky hair tickling his neck. He released his hold on her, his body heating up at the feeling of her pressed up against him. Then he turned his gaze away from hers, unconsciously rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “Uh … Are you ready to go?”

“Oh!” X turned back towards her desk and reached for her handbag. “Let me get my- Hey! I’ve been looking for this!” She picked her drill up off the floor and gave it a little rev to check that it still worked. She smiled when it did, then proceeded to begin shoving the machine into her bag.

“What …?” Miguel reached over to take the drill from her and place it down on her desk. Then he fixed her with an exasperated look. “You don’t need a drill on a date, arañita.” He froze when he realised that he’d just referred to it as a ‘date’, but X just grinned and wrapped her arms around his neck.

“On the contrary, I think drilling is the perfect activity for a date, Miguel.” He sucked in a breath at her naughty suggestion, his fingers gripping her waist tightly, and she bit her lip at the feeling.

“Uh,” he stammered out, his voice hoarse from all the dirty thoughts running through his mind at the feeling of her brushing up against him again. “Let’s … I …”

X snickered at his nervousness and stretched onto her toes to press a kiss to his cheek. “Let’s go, amor!”

She giggled at the word as she began making her way over to the door and Miguel felt his heart skip a beat as he followed after her.

“¡Arañita!” Miguel called to her, narrowly avoiding Doc Ock’s outstretched tentacle as he swung between the buildings. “Use your bubble gun thing!”

“I’m trying, amor!” X yelled back, hitting her gadget from where she stood on a nearby balcony. “Ugh! I need …” She searched her surroundings, trying to find a tool she could use to un-jam the damn thing. Then she spotted the glint of a coin lying on the floor. She cheered at the sight, then swung off the balcony to go get it. But Doc Ock caught her just as she leapt off the edge, swinging his tentacle at her and smashing her into a wall.

“¡Arañita!” Miguel screamed, flying after her as she began falling to the ground. He caught her just before she hit the hard floor, then set her back down on her legs, wrapping her up tightly in his arms. “¡Querida! I told you to be more careful!”

X shook her head, disoriented by the hit. “I’ll … I’ll be more careful, Miguel. I need that coin!”

She pointed at the shimmering object and Miguel shot a web at it to pull it over them. X flashed him a sheepish smile as he handed it to her, vividly imagining the exasperated expression he was probably wearing beneath his mask right that second. “Oh, right.”

“Hmm.” Miguel squeezed her hand before swinging himself back up into the air and slicing one of the villain’s tentacles off with the blades attached to his suit. X gulped at the way his lean body twirled and flew through the air, then she fixed her gun and took aim.

“Take that, you- What?!” She groaned as she found herself trapped in the mound of sticky bubbles that had shot out of the gun and right at her - she’d accidentally aimed it at herself instead. “Shit!”

Miguel turned to his girlfriend when he heard her screech of frustration, then he sighed and pressed a button on his watch. The bubbles slipped off her suit immediately, freeing her and leaving her in a confused state.

“What? How …?”

“I made some adjustments to your suit, cariño,” Miguel informed her, swinging over Doc Ock to slice off another of his tentacles. “Just as a precaution.”

X gasped, horrified by the thought of someone messing with her stuff. “You what?! You touched my suit?!!”

“Well, yeah!” Miguel responded quickly, not knowing what the big deal was - he’d touched her suit many times before already. And she’d never complained then. “I knew you'd somehow get yourself into a situation like this!”

X huffed and folded her arms across her chest. What if he messed up all her codes? Or altered the layout of her suit in some way? What if she pressed a button to activate one of her gadgets and it did something else instead? Ugh! Now she'd have to go back and remake her entire suit! How inconsiderate of her boyfriend! Were boyfriends supposed to be this inconsiderate? Or was hers just especially nosy? “Now I'm gonna have to go back and remake my entire suit!”

Miguel landed in front of her, his confusion obvious even through his mask. “What? Why?”

“Because!” she exclaimed, aiming her gun at Doc Ock as he took another swing at her. “How do I know you didn't fiddle with one of my settings?!” She pressed the trigger and this time, she reached her intended target. Doc Ock twisted his neck around, trying to free his appendages from the mass of gelatinous goo. Miguel crossed his arms, amused by the cute little glare his girlfriend shot at him.

“Oh, you mean like how you always do with my stuff?” he pointed out. X’s jaw dropped at the accusation.

“W-What?” she stammered out. “I'm not ‘fiddling’! I'm ‘improving’ …”

She sniffed and gave a little pout, offended by his dismissal of her enhancing his gadgets as ‘fiddling’ with them. But could he be right? Was this how he felt whenever she started playing around with one of his gadgets? But that was just a gadget, not his entire suit! But maybe she hadn't been so considerate either. She bit her lip as she peeked up at him, picturing the smug smirk on his face. She sighed. “Fine. I'll stop-”

“No,” Miguel interrupted her, making his way over to the struggling Doc Ock. “Don't even pretend like you aren't just gonna keep on messing with my stuff, arañita.”

X narrowed her eyes at him and frowned as she followed behind. “You're so mean, Miguel.”

He walked into the workshop just as his girlfriend handed one of the Peter’s back his web shooters.

“There! It should be as good as new. Better, even! But don’t tell Miguel.” She grinned mischievously and Miguel felt his heart flutter at the sight. Peter shot a few webs at the ceiling, testing out the repaired gadget, and his eyes widened with admiration.

“Whoa! That’s great! Thanks, X!”

“No problem!” She waved at him as he left the room, then her features lit up when she saw Miguel walking over to her. She ran over to him and he swiftly webbed away a stray screwdriver before she could trip over it. He should really look into putting motion detectors on her tools or something - programme an alarm to go off every time she got too close to one of them. “¡Querido! ¿Qué tal, mi amor?”

He wrapped her up in a hug as she slid her arms around his neck, then she pulled back slightly and stretched onto her toes to peck his lips. Miguel bent over, resting his forehead on hers, and narrowed his eyes. “Mmm. Better than mine, hmm?”

His girlfriend giggled and Miguel’s lips stretched wider at the sound. He slid his hands down her back, stopping when he reached her ass, and X sank into his chest, leaning into his touch.

“Oh!” She straightened, suddenly remembering something. Miguel kept his hands glued to her waist as she bounced over to her desk and grabbed her tablet.

“So, I've been trying to be more aware of my surroundings - like you told me to?” She twisted around in his arms and glanced up from her tablet, a proud expression on her face. “And my accident rate has dropped by seventy six percent in the last three months!”

Miguel grinned, not pointing out that that was the same amount of time that they’d been officially dating and that he’d gotten familiar enough with her quirks to anticipate her clumsiness. Instead, he tightened his grip around her, pulling her back into his chest so she had to crane her neck back to look up at him. “What about the other twenty four percent?”

She laughed at the way he murmured it against her lips, his voice smooth and suggestive. Then she pressed her lips back to his and smiled. “No one can be completely free of accidents, Miguel. I'm only human. I'm not perfect.”

“You're perfect to me, querida,” he retorted. X let out another soft giggle and stretched onto her toes to shower her boyfriend with soft kisses.

“And you to me, cariño.”

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bengiyo · 11 months

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Why Do I Tag So Many Creators in My Posts? It’s About Respect

Earlier today I was talking with @sophsloveskpop in the notes of a post, and was asked about all of the interaction between blogs in the posts and essays about the shows. I’ve noticed an uptick in new names interacting with posts (and making great posts of their own!) and wanted to talk about why I do it and why I like fandom on Tumblr.

Fundamentally, I think it’s generally good courtesy to acknowledge when someone else has expressed a similar idea to your, or an idea that intrigues you. I think it’s best to tag that person and link to their post so that others can also experience it. It also opens you up to a dialogue with them and others.

People Like Getting Their Flowers

If someone posts an analysis or even a quirky idea that I felt the need to think about, I will mention them in my posts. None of the great content we get on here is necessarily quick to make. I absolutely love all of the gifmakers who fight against Photoshop, Tumblr, and God Himself to post snippets of shows on here for us. I wouldn’t be able to flesh out some of my posts, illustrates points, or otherwise breakup walls of text without @liyazaki, @wanderlust-in-my-soul, @pharawee, or @gabrielokun. Whenever I can’t find the gif I’m looking for through Tumblr’s terrible gif search, I reach out to one of them for permission to use their gifs directly.

Also, many of us just like being acknowledged that someone we wrote meant something to someone else. Every time I get tagged by someone in an essay I’m like:

It’s a Conversation

I don’t think fandom is about being the smartest person or the most correct person. My basic framework I’m writing from is Black Gay Nerd Who Watches a Lot of Stuff. It’s what I’m most familiar with personally, and I find that people have really responded to that.

I’ve been around for a very long time, and have been seeing folks like @so-much-yet-to-learn around the entire time, who often has more specific information about fandom life during the airing of shows. @absolutebl and @heretherebedork have watched more BL than I have, and I’ve seen at least 250 productions. ABL has some of the most comprehensive posts collecting some of the history.

I made so many friends after diving into @shortpplfedup DMs to talk about sustainable urbanism and bonding over our shared geography. Now we run @the-conversation-pod together. Through them I befriended so many others, like @elnotwoods and @kyr-kun-chan.

I’m not a color theory expert, and so I love reading posts from @respectthepetty and others (I think @sliceduplife writes about color too).

We wouldn't even have my favorite show without @isaksbestpillow.

I know what shows are coming because of @clairificusrex.

I don’t know much about music theory, but @iguessitsjustme write some great stuff about the music in these shows.

I don’t always read the body language of hands as closely as someone like @wen-kexing-apologist might.

I am not Asian, and so I like reading from @waitmyturtles, @telomeke-bbs, and @neuroticbookworm. I know that @recentadultburnout and @airenyah offer useful perspective on Thai language.

Sometimes folks are going to narrow down on specific shows and consistently write about them for years on side blogs like @miscellar.

Some people have studied so much and bring specific academic lenses to the genre that I find compelling, like @emotionallychargedtowel.

In many cases, I just vibe with them really hard, like @ginnymoonbeam.

I actually didn’t always post as much as I do, but I try to keep up my Stray Thoughts project so that people can keep track of what I’m watching. I used to write less meta, but then I befriended @waitmyturtles and @lurkingshan. Any time I say anything remotely thoughtful Shan is like:

Also, though, this is Tumblr! It’s easy to tag each other and link to each other’s posts! This is what makes us different from every

Isn’t It Just More Fun?

I don’t enjoy shows passively. I grew up in a family that watched things together. My mom, dad, sister, and I all have differing tastes from each other, but we watched a lot of different things together. My friends and I discussed the things we watched at school.

I’m a big fan of the water cooler approach to TV show distribution, which basically says you want your show to be the show people are talking about on their breaks at work. I always like Film Crit Hulk’s theory that movies (and our dramas) are the proverbial campfires around which we gather to share ourselves with each other.

This is all supposed to be fun, and I have more fun when we interact. I get tagged daily by @blmpff about updates from sets, or when we all need to rush to IG to make sure Fluke Pongsakorn doesn’t cut his hair. When @bl-bam-beyond makes a new set or post they let me know, and they recently rewatched Noah’s Arc! I made friends with @gillianthecat in the last year or so, and it’s been fun seeing her make her way through fandom. I always get excited with @troubled-mind pings me in a post because I know it’s going to give me something to chew on. I didn’t have a genuine appreciation for kink culture until I watched along with @lutawolf. If something funny is happening in fandom I know @benkaaoi is going to tag me. I still get excited when @heukheuk pops up in my mentions.

I know I’ve probably forgotten so many people alone the way here, and I’m sorry if I didn’t mention you.

Tag Because It’s the Right Thing to Do

So seriously, tag people and link to their posts. Try to use the giffmakers specific tags when you’re using the search feature. Fandom is better when we all interact respectfully and enthusiastically with each other. Tumblr is special because it lets us create goofy little essays like this and tag dozens of people just to get their attention.

If you have a cool thought about a show I’m watching, tag me. If you see something funny, tag me in the comments. If you wanna hash out an idea before posting it, DM me. This is Tumblr. Don’t be shy with your thoughts. It’s okay to be wrong on the internet. It’s actually fun to be wrong on the internet about show predictions!

Thank you as always for coming to my post.

#Ben writes #fandom life #tumblr life

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moonshynecybin · 3 months

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context here and here... short fic (~1k words) about reporter au marc, turning over what their sepang could be... unspeakably divorced vibes to this one...

Marc lays the recorder down in front of Valentino. He starts, carefully neutral:

“So. You were a little bit shaky on the braking this weekend, was there any specific reason? It looked like you were having trouble with grip?”

Vale crosses his arms, narrow posture folding.

“Marc.” He counters. Face serious.

Marc ignores him. Ignores the tornado shredding his stomach. He scribbles something in his notebook, mindlessly underlining a question he doesn’t even want to ask. He’s been trying to keep it more professional, after the last few weeks. After—

“Do you need me to repeat the question?” He says.

Vale doesn’t give an inch. “Why did you write that article?”

So he did see it. Marc flicks his eyes up from his notebook, quick. Vale’s eyes bore into him. unerring. Feline.

He shrugs a little. Sucks on his teeth.

“Did you have a problem with it?” He shouldn’t, really. Wouldn’t if it were anyone else. Marc’s just doing his job, he won’t compromise that for anyone. Journalism isn't about making people happy.

“No.” Vale says, and Marc’s asked him enough questions at this point to know what he looks like when he lies.

He fingers the end of Marc’s recorder. Long hands against shitty plastic. He switches it off.

“You didn’t tell me this was going to be off the record.” Marc says mildly, like he’s joking. He doesn’t know what Vale wants from this— apparently not an interview—and judging by the expression dragging at the corners of his face, the chances of Vale indulging the small part of Marc scaffolded on hope are slim. In fact, a picture is starting to form, uneasy and edgy, lighting the barely-dormant spark of hurt in his gut.

He can’t be serious.

Vale laughs, brittle and hard.

“So you don’t regret it?”

He is serious.

Marc puts his pen down as something in him clenches, sick and determined. Vale can’t— he shouldn’t get to do this, after the last few weeks. shouldn’t get to be mad at him for the sort of article that he wouldn’t care about if anyone else had written it. Not after how he's ignored Marc, skipping over him in press scrums. After how he implied Marc was overstepping, too familiar. Not professional. After how Marc— after they—

After.

Marc feels like an idiot. Whatever. His piece is still good, his writing stands on its own. It asks valid questions, makes the correct comparisons, and gives Jorge Lorenzo a few hard-earned compliments. It's an incisive article. Interesting. Impersonal. Entirely professional.

Just like Vale wanted.

“Why would I?”

Vale keeps studying him, and Marc thinks a muscle jumps in his jaw. He meets him head on, intense. That same chemistry that they’ve been building for the last few seasons turned sour now, crackling like a live wire. Vale’s eyes drop to Marc’s mouth, then back to his eyes. His expression sets.

Marc sees him arrive at some sort of conclusion.

It can’t be just about the article— others have said worse, gone farther. Marc was careful to stay in bounds, tame and even normal compared to some of the other journos in the paddock. No remarks about his personality or his age. Just a few observations about how Jorge is steadily gaining in the standings, and how Vale is slowly losing the lead he’s had all season. The facts, as Marc sees them. Objective.

But Marc has also never written anything like that before. Has built a name for himself on complex opinions and strategic analysis. On the experience he has as a former racer, and as someone who was supposed to be on the other side of the recorder— supposed to be answering questions instead of asking them. On interviews strengthened by the easy, genuine relationship he has with Valentino Rossi.

But it’s not like he can exactly rely on that last one anymore.

Vale tilts his head forward, eyebrows up. A wry little expression plays across his face, there for a flash, before he shakes his head and pushes back his chair.

“Eh, I guess you are right.” Vale stands, nods. He leans over the table and waves a hand in the air, face animated. Cheerful, if you don’t know him. Studied nonchalance. “Why would you? It’s your job.”

He says the last bit like it means something, extra emphasis on each syllable.

“It is my job.” Marc agrees.

“Right.” Vale says, after a moment, tension threading through them both, taught as a bow string.

He says it like it’s final. Like it’s the end of something. It's exactly the same tone of voice he used a few weeks ago in Phillip Island, when Marc had stumbled out of the cold bed in his crappy hotel room and saw Vale fully dressed, looking for his wallet. About to leave. His head had whipped up when he saw Marc awake, and the look on his face was crystal clear. Had made Marc abruptly feel like he was about to vomit, cold rising from his toes as Vale started to speak.

Too young. Too close. Too unprofessional.

Right.

“Right.” Vale says again now, confirming whatever he sees in Marc’s face, blue eyes clear and remote. The hinge of his jaw is wound tight, day-old stubble blurring his sideburns.

Marc’s chest throbs.

He doesn’t say anything, lets the silence fill the room until it’s about to burst.

Vale stares at him a minute longer before he turns and leaves, door swinging behind him.

Marc sits there, staring at his notebook for a long time.

He doesn’t end up writing anything.

#its like. marc being hurt and not technicallyyyy doing anything wrong or outside of his job. but still kind of deciding to ruin vale's day #and stick it to his ego about the championship...#motogp #callie speaks #rosquez #my fic #reporter au

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screamforyani · 1 year

Text

r u mine?

pairing ↠ jj maybank x (f) reader x ethan landry

genre .. warnings ↠ smut, angst, unprotected sex, best friend!jj, panty thief!jj, violence, murder, mentions of blood, character death

summary ↠ jj doesn’t like your old best friend and it shows. it’s not like he even tries to hide it. you don’t know if it’s possible to keep him both happy and safe in the fight for survival.

wc ↠ 5.7k

author’s note ↠ pt. 2/4 of the still friends, not lovers series. feedback is appreciated!

“He had you hurt.”

Nothing but silence filled the patio. Matter of fact, apart from the hisses you smothered with a lip bite, it had been off-puttingly silent until now. Whether or not you preferred it over the fussing was a good question.

Your parents (obviously) weren’t home. Given the news of the recent attacks, they were locking up the shop before the newly implemented curfew arrived. No sooner had you made sure Ethan was alive and okay than you drove back home and called JJ over.

Naturally, calling your best friend was your first move. Save for the burden of feelings flush against your chest, you never kept anything from him.

“We were both caught off guard. There was nothing he could do,” you mumbled under your breath, feeble.

He hadn’t been there to see the things that you saw or hear the things that you heard. Ethan told you that he loved you. He sacrificed his life to protect you from a literal killer. He was willing to have something way worse than a slice to the shoulder happen to him for your own survival.

JJ shook his head, declaring, “I would have never let anything happen to you.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Yes, I do,” JJ insisted, wrapping a sterile bandage around your arm.

You sighed. “Why do you hate him? He hasn’t done anything wrong.”

“Hate is a strong word,” he replied distractedly, wiping your blood off. “I don’t know. I just hate the guy.”

You wanted to roll your eyes. This boy was impossible. But you loved him and that was why you were trying to hear him out. “So, you hate him for no reason?”

“No, no - there’s a reason for everything. I just don’t know what it is yet,” JJ said, sounding like his typical self. “I just have a gut feeling.”

Sitting up on the lounge chair, you cocked him a look. “Let me get this straight. You hate him because you got a vibe.”

“Not a vibe. A gut feeling,” JJ corrected. Like there was a discernible difference.

Your two best friends’ dislike of each other made you feel cornered. Ethan was significantly less obvious and unabashed about his feelings, but you noticed the way he’d stiffen a little at the mention of your current best friend. Maybe if they tried to like each other, things would be easier on your end, but you knew that would never happen.

You really needed a new plan.

For whatever reason, JJ felt the need to continue, “I’m just saying what are the odds that as soon as those guys show up, bodies start dropping like flies.”

“It’s summertime and we live on an island. I’m sure they’re not our only visitors,” you reminded monotonously, as if you were bored of this conversation.

You were.

Like none of that mattered, JJ suggested, “Or B, he’s a serial killer.”

Irritated, you shot, “Jesus fucking Christ, Jayj. When are you going to be honest with yourself and admit you’re just jealous?”

If you wanted to go the whole mile, JJ was willing to race you there. “Me - jealous? You think I care that much?”

“Obviously, you do,” you hissed.

JJ’s first instinct was to run. He couldn’t let you be right. “You know what, if you wanna run all over the island with him, cool. Just don’t call me when shit hits the fan.”

“JJ,” you shouted after him.

There was no point. JJ was already hopping over your back fence, coming out the way he had come in. His motorbike was parked behind your house just in case he needed to make a quick escape. Your mother would have a heart attack if they found out he was in their house alone with you and your father would kill him.

JJ mounted his bike and started to leave. You gawked. Leave it to him to disappear. Any sudden moves and you would scare him away.

Shaking your head in reproach, you turned to sit back on the lounge chair. Unbelievable, you wanted to scoff under your breath. Given your nature, you’d gotten into your fair share of arguments with JJ throughout the years, but this felt like the stupidest. And there were many, many stupid fights.

Accusing Ethan of being a serial killer was the last straw for you. You were sick of him making assumptions about somebody he knew nothing about. That was JJ, though. He acted like he knew everything.

Still, you weren’t really mad at him. Just frustrated. There was so much happening. Way too soon. And when he blew up like that you got scared to tell him how you felt.

You decided that you would be keeping your feelings to yourself. Not telling him things didn’t feel right, but it was for his own good. What good would it do to tell him that you slept with your old best friend but you thought you still liked him?

None whatsoever. He would rage.

You heaved a breath. Just when you thought that you had it all figured out, shit got complicated all over again. Before Ethan came, you were certain about your feelings. You planned to confess to JJ sometime this summer.

Now, you were torn. Was it possible to be in love with two people at once? Not to mention your best friend was totally off-limits.

Your phone pinged. Your heart raced at the thought that it was JJ, or maybe even Ethan, but you were slightly disappointed when you saw that it was Sarah.

sarah: i know you’re in the middle of boy drama but don’t forget that there’s a party tomorrow night

you: me? boy drama? pfft

sarah: right haha so funny

sarah: bring a date?

you: you’re my date duh

sarah: not sure if john b will like that

you: i’ll fight him

sarah: i’ll be holding the camera

You giggled. Fuck, you definitely needed it.

A party with all of your good friends to take your mind off your boy drama (as she had aptly named) didn’t sound like the worst thing ever. There was just one thing. A literal killer was on the loose. Granted, it was before curfew, but that wouldn’t prevent a strike.

The police couldn’t have the event canceled, but you heard that they would be supervising the event. As far as you were concerned, Shoupe was still convinced your friends were behind the attacks and was probably hoping to use a gathering to bait you out.

Nonetheless, when five o’clock the following came, you were at Topper’s clad in a turtleneck and your favorite mini skirt. To be honest, you were a little antsy about partying on the kooks’ turf. Specifically because whenever kooks or pogues were on the wrong side of the island everything took a wild turn.

Every time without fail.

“I don’t want no trouble from you tonight, young lady,” Shoupe said when you made the misfortunate mistake of passing his car.

You pivoted on your heels, forcing the sweetest smile. “I’ll be on my best behavior, sir, but I really hope you’re giving them a similar speech.”

You cocked your head at Topper, Rafe, and Kelce, who were currently huddled together cracking jokes by the drink bar.

Shoupe had some jokes to get off of his own and asked, “Ain’t that your boyfriend?”

Wrong former kook, you thought irritably. “I believe you’re thinking of Sarah. No, either way,” you said sharply. You left out the part that you’d hooked up with Topper some years back. Though that was before he decided that Sarah was the love of his life.

“If you say so, kid. Have fun.”

“I’ll try,” you muttered, darting away from him quickly.

You decided to hide by the snack stand which, in hindsight, wasn’t a favorable hiding spot. Heaving a relieved breath, you reached for a fruit. Finally free.

Not.

“Hey, princess,” came a familiar voice behind you.

Ever so slowly, you turned around, forcing a smile when you locked eyes with Rafe. God fucking dammit. “Hi, Rafe,” you greeted. “Still on a mission to fuck all of your sister’s friends?”

“If you’ll let me,” Rafe said, more than a little flirty.

Straight to the point. You almost respected it. This, unfortunately, was a recurring series of events that you had learned to deal with. Apparently Rafe, Kelce, and Topper were trying to pass you around, because though Topper was all eyes for Sarah, Kelce had directed more than a couple of flirty comments towards you.

You, on the other hand, were highly disinterested. Rafe was the same dude who hated your friends and made your lives a living hell every spare chance he got. You just happened to be a pretty girl with kook money that Rafe made it a point to remind that she was too good for hanging out with pogues.

“I’m kind of dating someone,” you lied through your teeth. Maybe it wasn’t a lie. You didn’t know what to make out of what happened with Ethan yesterday.

Rafe obviously didn’t believe you, leaning onto the table. “Oh yeah? Who?”

“Me,” came another voice beside you.

Your knight in shining armor was no other than JJ, the last person you wanted to see right now, but you decided that being with him was a whole lot better than having to tell Rafe to fuck off.

Rafe shook his head, laughing. “You can do better than that.”

JJ was visibly upset, but rather than bite back, he grabbed your arm and said sternly, “Let’s go.”

There was no arguing with that tone. You let JJ drag you through Topper’s house as if he knew his way around and you ultimately found yourselves in a bathroom instead of a closet or something. Thank god. At least there was distance between your bodies and breathing room.

For a second, the two of you stood there in silence, sizing each other up for whatever reason. It was silent for at least thirty seconds before JJ had enough.

JJ looked frantic, as if he had been searching his brain for what to say and had come short of adequate answers. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry,” you repeated, looking at him with folded arms and complete disinterest. It was only a facade, of course.

JJ ran a hand through his hair. He had been beating himself over this for a whole day. When you two weren’t speaking, all his hours felt longer. “Look, I’m not good at this. I don’t know how to fix things. I just make shit worse.”

You held back a snort. To say the least.

“You were right,” JJ confessed quietly.

Playing clueless, you chirped, “About?”

JJ exhaled a breath before admitting, “I was jealous. I don’t wanna lose you to some guy.”

“I don’t wanna lose you to a killer,” you whispered, approaching him a little. “That’s what’s important to me right now. I want you to see that.”

JJ purchased his hands on your shoulders and replied, “I do see that. But I’m trying to tell you that I love you. That’s what’s important to me right now.”

“Oh.”

Your reaction made JJ recoil in regret. He backed away, getting cold feet, and said, “You know what, forget it.”

Before he could run like he always tried to, you rose on your toes and kissed him until you couldn’t think straight. JJ didn’t hesitate to pounce, smothering you with kisses as he returned your energy tenfold.

His distracted hands were out of his hair and in your own for a second, just before slipping downwards. He couldn’t decide where to put them. Touching your bare skin, his fingertips found purchase at your very exposed waist, cursing at how beautiful you looked in this damn mini skirt.

You gasped into his mouth when he had the strange idea to hoist you into the air like you weighed sheets of paper and set you on the sink. Your fingers wildly got lost in his mane, legs locking around his hips, and the kiss deepened.

Funnily enough, it wasn’t the first time that you’d kissed your best friend, much less in a bathroom. You had made out more than a few times growing up and hooked up once. Maybe twice.

None of it was supposed to mean anything. You were just trying to figure yourselves out while experimenting on each other. After a while, though, JJ told you it had to be the last time. You figured it was because he didn’t need you to experiment on anymore, because that was when he started to make his way around the island.

That was the day you realized you had feelings for the one person you were forbidden from having feelings for. When it was too late. You tried undoing the damage, but you were past the point of no return.

And you had been ever since.

Warmth made itself known in your chest, your heart skipping a beat. She was singing a tune and calling out his name. You were so dizzy with love.

“I love you, too,” you told him with a wild grin, breaking away.

JJ playfully groaned, “What took you so long?”

In your head, you were wondering the same thing. “I’ve loved you for so many years,” you sighed.

“Why didn’t you just say that?”

You retaliated sharply, “Why didn’t you?”

JJ threw up his hands. “Alright, alright. Good point. Great point, even.”

You giggled, pecking his lips.

JJ nipped behind your ear, grinning slyly when you sighed contentedly. If memory served, that was always the spot for you. He purred into your ear, “I want you more than anything right now.”

Your eyes flickered. “You want to hook up in Topper Thorton’s bathroom?”

JJ chuckled at the mere thought. “Sounds like perfect revenge, huh?”

You mulled it over. The asshole probably did deserve it, but that wasn’t what you were worried about right now. You were thinking about that day when JJ called it quits.

Hands bracing the counter, you mentioned, “I thought you said we weren’t doing this anymore?”

“I say a lot of shit,” JJ responded, his body so close to yours that you could feel his heart racing. “And I only said that because I was scared. I felt myself getting attached to you in the wrong way and I just… fuck, I panicked.”

You appreciated the vulnerability that was being put into this conversation. Everything was on the table right now. His cards were flat. You were smiling like an idiot when you said, “You, JJ Maybank, are the biggest coward ever.”

JJ imitated your smile. “Only when it comes to you.”

For the longest time, you two just stared at each other’s lips. Then, JJ smashed his lips against yours again and you could feel the butterflies hyperactive in your gut.

Well, you could always feel them when you were around him. But now they were being extra drama queens.

The bathroom started to feel hotter, heat clouding the air. You were wholeheartedly expecting the mirror to get foggy and the windows too, had they (thankfully) not been covered by curtains. JJ’s hands were gripping your thighs and all you could think about was how you wanted to feel them everywhere.

“Fuck me,” you whispered seductively.

JJ had every intention of doing exactly that. “Whatever my girl wants, she’s gonna get.”

Your thighs tensed at those words. “You’re going to be the death of me,” you mumbled under your breath.

Given the lack of space, it wasn’t much of a leap to make that he’d heard you. His breathy chuckle only confirmed your suspicions.

Your heart was louder than ever when JJ peeled off your damp underwear and you didn’t even notice him adroitly stuffing them into his back pockets when they slipped by your ankles. If needed, he would follow you like a lost puppy the whole night just to make sure any creeps didn’t peek.

Not to mention they were his favorite color. JJ almost growled. You were absolutely never getting those back.

His hand slipped under your turtleneck, pinching your nipples none too roughly. You cried out in shock, finding his eyes, but all he did was chuckle. He always did do stupid shit like that.

Then, JJ slipped two fingers into your pussy all while his other hand was still on your boob, and you moaned. You were internally thanking god that you’d decided to wear that turtleneck. JJ always had a thing for sucking marks onto your throat and you knew he would go ballistic if he saw those bruises.

His fingers were so long and nimble, way too easy to fall apart on. The two times in a row that you’d had sex, he made you unravel either on his tongue or on his fingers.

One day, you were hoping for both.

You braced your hands on the counter, shifting left to right. Your whole body was unstill and it did things to JJ that had his cock twitching in his pants. His fingers attacked your sensitive bundle of nerves, knowing the perfect way to make you lose control.

“Jay,” you said weakly, choking out your words.

JJ audaciously invited a third finger to join the original pair and stroked them between your slick walls, simultaneously thumbing your clit. You tensed with sensitivity and braced your fingers on his shoulders, sighing while he taunted your sweet spot. JJ swore to himself, wishing he could mark up your throat, but seeing it was covered, settled for your thighs.

Fire consumed your whole body. You couldn’t even think right now. His fingers were merciless, fucking you with a vengeance. Like they had something to prove.

Much to your chagrin, your phone started to vibrate in your purse that you had hooked on the doorknob halfway through the first kiss.

Since he was the closest, JJ grabbed your phone from your purse and told you, “Answer it.”

Your eyes went wide. “What?”

“Hurry up before it ends,” he said, just before immediately returning to fingering you.

You glanced at the caller ID then pressed the phone to your ear, chirping, “Hello?”

Sarah said your name and exhaled a sigh of relief before huffing, “I’ve texted you like twenty times! I’ve been looking for you everywhere and Kie said the last time she saw you was with Rafe. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

With JJ coaxing those dreadfully long fingers in and out of you over and over again, you were salivating, mouth too dry to speak. “Um, I’m okay. I went to, uh, clear my head,” you quickly lied through your teeth.

“You don’t sound okay.”

“I promise everything is peachy. I was just running all over Topper’s house looking for the bathroom a minute ago,” you said shakily, narrowing your eyes at JJ from above.

Your best friend was sporting the most shit-eating grin you’d ever seen in your life. Fuck, you were tight and gushing around his fingers, and he couldn’t wait to get his cock in you.

“Good one,” JJ said none too quietly.

Sarah asked, “Is that JJ?”

Apparently the bathroom was quiet enough for JJ to overhear her, because instead of shutting up when you shot him a icy glare, he raised his voice a couple of pitches and said, “Um, no, it’s actually not JJ. I’m… Jayla.”

“Jayla,” Sarah repeated skeptically.

You were burning in a lethal combination of arousal and embarrassment. “Okay, so I might’ve fibbed. JJ and I are reconciling.”

JJ scoffed. That was one way to put it.

“Well, I wouldn’t want to interrupt,” Sarah said, evidently more than a little confused. “Have fun with that, I guess.”

Your toes were clenching in your knee-high boots and your features tensed with mind-numbing pleasure, your phone nearly slipping onto the floor tiles. You stifled your moan with the back of your palm and squeezed your fingers around your phone, losing your mind a little. You bit your bottom lip, somehow managing a, “Bye,” in the midst of your muffled cries.

You were quick to hang up the phone, sliding it to the very back of the counter, and finally let out a noise.

Now you could focus on what was important. Your impending orgasm prepared to sweep you under its current. JJ was intent on getting you there like he knew he could, strumming you to climax.

You took a deep breath, which did absolutely nothing to stabilize you, and whimpered, “JJ.”

“I know, baby. You’re close,” he said, thinking back on the memories of you falling apart at his mercy. He knew what you at your peak looked like and this sight was familiar.

He remembered being dumb and young with you, doing things you shouldn’t’ve but nothing that he regretted. He remembered drawing your body to the edge of the bed by dragging your legs and hoisting them over his shoulders, fucking you for hours while your parents were away.

Every day he wished he would’ve never given that up. But he was a self-sabotager and he ruined things before shit could go wrong on its own.

Your heart was beating frantically and your legs were starting to go numb. Merely seconds later you were climaxing with a loud cry of his name, and you only hoped the music reverberating outside the door muffled your sounds.

“Atta girl,” JJ growled, watching your entire body go slack as your orgasm ripped through you. “Keep cumming for me. Just like that.”

His words made the whole room spin. It was a minute before you finally stilled, panting and breathing heavy and hard.

JJ withdrew his fingers, sucking them into his mouth. You were practically salivating. “You still cum hard?”

“When the person making me cum knows how to get me off,” you mumbled through ragged breath.

“Now I can put my dick in you,” JJ said wryly, grinning at your words.

You barely got the chance to catch your breath before JJ yanked you off the countertop and forcefully bent you over the sink, making you cry out in surprise. He knew that you liked it a little rough. Adrenaline pumped brutally through your veins when you heard him shuffling from behind you in an endeavor to slide down his pants.

Your core tightened with impatience. Every fiber in your being wanted his dick in you like yesterday. “Hurry,” you whined desperately.

“Patience is key, baby,” JJ teased, though you could tell he was in a hurry just from the sound of him rushing to sink his underwear around his ankles.

At least you thought he was in a rush, though you were getting the vibe that he was attempting to draw things out when he started to rub his cock between your folds, coating himself in your arousal. Your throbbing didn’t stop there; it got worse. JJ let out a less than quiet curse-like grunt or two and felt the heat rush to his cock.

It felt as if he was toying with you, tantalizing you with the thought of fucking your brains out. Which was all that you could think about. You had the memories of him stuffing you full of his dick on repeat in your head and they were like a nonstop spinning cycle.

Those same memories were on his mind, too. Muffling your moans with his palm when he heard your parents pulling into their driveway and escaping out your window after making sure you were alright. JJ threw his head back and cursed, “Fuck, you always get so wet.”

Thinking about what it felt like to be inside you shattered the last of his self-restraint and you cried out when he started to finally - fucking finally - push himself inside of your cunt. Your legs were spread apart, giving him all the room needed to fuck you like he meant it.

JJ was slow and steady in his approach, never wanting to hurt you more than you asked for, crooning, “That’s right, baby. Take my cock.”

In that moment, you decided you would do anything for him. There was nothing you wouldn’t give for your best friend’s sake, though after this, you were hoping he’d be a little more than that.

Not too long afterwards, every inch of him was buried deep inside of you. Though you knew you could take him, you were glad that he had stretched you out with your fingers. JJ was far from small and he was elated that you’d taken his size like a champ. “That’s my good girl,” he said proudly. “It don’t hurt, do it?”

“No, baby. Never,” you whispered distantly. Like you were already half gone.

Only when JJ grabbed your hips like you were going to try to run away from him did he set a rhythm and that was the exact second you started to lose what was left of your mind a little. He just felt so criminally good.

Sometimes after a couple of drinks when you were really horny (and buzzed) you would touch yourself in bed, imagining his perfect cock was stroking you to climax. Your pussy gripped him, remembering every vein. It killed you to wonder if he got off to the memories and the thought of what could have been.

Little did you know, JJ could count on both hands how many times he’d been there on the other side of the island, fisting his cock in his hands while your cries played out in his brain. He missed the way you would choke out his name when his hand was wrapped around your throat too tight.

Just the thought of it got you wet. Like you were back in that moment again. “Jay, fuck. Like that. Don’t stop,” you said with half of your voice.

“Shit,” JJ hissed, slapping his hips into you even harder. You gasped when he grabbed your jaw, forcing you to look at your own reflection none too gently. “Look at yourself. Wanna make you watch.”

You did as told without a second thought. Sure, it was a little awkward to watch yourself getting fucked, but you immediately simpered when you saw how JJ’s face tensed with ecstasy and caught a glimpse of the hazy look in his stare.

Your knees were knocking into the cabinet under the sink while you anchored your fingers at the edges of the counter, desperately attempting to seek purchase. The air was stuffy and the bathroom was too hot to breathe inside of. Your lips were parted, inhaling in between soft moans.

JJ wasn’t exactly sparing in the way that he was fucking you and you loved every second of it. His pace was hard but it wasn’t too much, just at your limits. He kept watching you, almost like he was trying to breathe you in. Something about the sight of you making a mess on his cock tickled his brain the right way.

As if you weren’t already struggling to breathe, JJ had the bright idea to grip your throat and cut off your exhale. The way you instantly tightened around his dick was very telling and he could no longer think. “Look at you, baby. My girl,” he whispered darkly. “Mine.”

Every time he called you his girl, you wanted to melt onto the floor or possibly down the sink drain. You loved being full of him and nothing but him. You loved feeling like you belonged to him. For a moment, it was that simple. Your whole body was owned by him and submitted to his touch.

“Yours,” you choked out, not like you would have been able to say much even if his fingers weren’t around your neck.

That riled JJ up a little too much. You shuddered when he landed a loud, resounding smack to your ass. The noise you made never left your throat.

To say that JJ was a little obsessed would be an understatement. The wet squelch that filled the room with every thrust drove him mad with lust and there was no coming back down from that. You were squirming in his hold and the sight was to die for.

The pleasure was killing you softly. For lack of a better word, everything just felt so right. He fitted inside of you perfectly, almost as if he was meant to fuck you. To say nothing of how he felt pressed against you.

Sweat layered at your skin and you didn’t even notice, courtesy of the thick turtleneck keeping your upper half concealed, though you could definitely feel the moisture gathering at your back and between your boobs. He relaxed his grip and your neck and you promptly sucked in a breath, the feeling of his hand lingering at the base of your throat.

The heat took you in and when your body could take no more you orgasmed again, weakly hissing out your best friend’s name as all of your strength died. You shuddered and shook, trying to get away from the stimulation, but JJ was having none of it and tightened his hold on you.

For the longest time, you couldn’t even say a word. Tears fogged your eyes and blurred your vision, making everything around you a haze. You heard JJ’s euphoric sounds from behind, still wallowing in your heat.

You were more than willing to let him use you to get off but you could tell just from the pitch of his voice that he was nearing finish and you were craving it with an overwhelming sense of need. “Jay, cum inside of me.”

JJ’s hooded eyes snapped open, as if he had been dreaming. “Don’t play with me like that.”

“I’m serious,” you said to him, smiling at his disbelief. “I want you to fuck me full.”

Now that you had said that, he was even closer than before, dangling over the edge and falling into you. JJ groaned. You knew exactly how to make him weak.

His pace quickened, the urge to fuck you full of cum like you wanted turning him into something that resembled a beast rather than a mere man. You whimpered, sensitive, fiending for the afterhighs of sex.

He was more than happy to give them to you, filling you with his load with a couple more quick thrusts and a guttural sound that shook you to your core. You moaned at the feeling of him stuffing you.

For a minute or two, neither of you moved. You just wanted to stay like that forever. Then, JJ started to smother you with kisses and said, “You’re fucking perfect.”

You grinned, kissing him back. You felt so alive.

“Alright, let’s get you cleaned up,” JJ said with a shocking amount of enthusiasm.

Approximately fifteen minutes later you were stammering out of the bathroom with JJ in tow, his arm wrapped possessively around your waist as he led you back outside.

The sky was a lot darker when you stepped onto Topper’s front porch, the sun being closer to setting. Thankfully, given that it was summer, you had longer nights and every intention to milk the daylight for all that it was worth.

That was until you heard a scream.

Naturally JJ’s first instinct was to cage you into his arms until he knew if there was a threat. Your heart fluttered at the gesture, but the very next second, you laid eyes on that familiar cloaked figure that had first taken out the flock of cops gathered outfront.

“Not good,” JJ said, running a hand through his hair. “This is, like, really bad.”

Flinching in horror, you snapped, “No shit.”

Blood pooled around the array of police cars and you caught a glimpse of Shoupe’s brutally slaughtered body, left there for dead like an animal. The bodies of his co-workers were posed similarly and also very dead, sprawled across the asphalt.

Rather than get his hands dirty, JJ decided to reopen Topper’s doors and grab your wrist, shuffling inside with you behind. Feet slapping against shimmering floor tiles, you tried to match his hurried steps.

When you neared the steps, you cried out, “Jay, what about everyone else?”

“They’ll figure it out,” he shouted, almost as if he didn’t care.

That was jarring to you. You stopped halfway up the stairway, unimpressed. “This is very unlike you!”

JJ whipped around, braced his hands on your shoulders, and said darkly, “Look, we get stabbed, we can’t do nothing for them. So come on.”

You guessed he was at least sort of right and let him lead you upstairs, checking out no less than three rooms before you finally found a bedroom and locked the door behind yourselves. Both of you scurried to the windows, watching the disaster unfold from afar.

Fight or flight got the better of most people. Topper was playing hero and walked up to the masked maniac without a care in the world, and whether it was a brave or foolish decision was debatable. You dumbass, you chided in your brain, already seeing how this was about to play out.

He was daring, you would give him that much. You saw him say something that you couldn’t exactly hear, but from his lips it looked like, “Hit me with your best shot, motherfucker.”

It all happened in a blink. You winced your eyes shut when you saw the masked figure cold-heartedly stab Topper in the gut, only to withdraw the knife and stab back a number of times you weren’t willing to count. You glanced away for a second, the last thing you saw being Sarah panickedly rushing over to Topper’s body.

Then, a second one emerged, and it was like nothing you had ever seen before. Not even in the movies. They both cornered Rafe, whose aggression quickly earned him a sawing through the arteries.

You gasped in terror, hiding yourself in your best friend’s chest. Though you weren’t their biggest fans, that made it no less difficult to watch. There was blood spilled everywhere almost as if it was pouring down from the sky.

“Shh, it’s gonna be fine. Don’t look,” JJ consoled, rubbing your back. “Don’t look.”

You didn’t look. Matter of fact, you kept your eyes anywhere but near that window, choosing to stare at JJ’s face instead. His features were grim, and you could tell just from looking at him that everything wasn’t going to be fine.

But for your own sake, you filtered those dark thoughts out. It’s gonna be fine, you repeated to yourself. Whatever JJ told you, you were inclined to believe. It’s gonna be fine.

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