#not really sure about that but either way

[flightyalrighty]

FIRST | PREVIOUS | NEXT CH 1 PG 36

Infested will return on June 27th. --- Thank you to the following Ascended supporters: @chaogongoozles, @fiiresiidefrfr, @elizard4227, @grogar, Ezzoh, @susivoi, @calculuscacophony, Eros, @ivycorp, @summersdale @borrelia, @mizukiz, @sanicdetails, @combinegrunt-echo-1, Pica, @veeceear, @quackenburt, ItsmeMonarch, @memendoemori, @trans-girl-sonic, & savarsenic

Content Warnings | Store | Ko-Fi | Read On Comic Fury! DISCLAIMER: "Infested" is a horror comic ft. content not suitable for those under the age of 17.

A long-winded looking back on things below the cut:

The first few pages of Infested were uploaded to this blog on March 2nd, 2023 -- Over a whole year ago! I was so busy, too, that I completely missed its birthday (Sorry Infested). Looking even further back than that, the original story was was something I began writing on December 25th, 2022 (Merry Christmas).

It took two years to get to this point.

And hey, not to toot my own horn about it, but completing even one chapter of a webcomic is a big deal. Especially for me. My first webcomic, Fight/Flight, didn't get very far. I completed the prologue, started Chapter 1, and then had to drop it for a number of reasons (I didn't really agree with what baby-me had to say, politically, anymore).

This comic was born from a lot of intense feelings. The story, itself, too. Some good. Some bad.

I had been forced to move away from my hometown, and with that move, I lost the physical connection that I had to all of my friends. I lost the familiarity of a place I'd known for most of my life. I'm now stuck somewhere... Worse. It felt like a cage. Still does. Disconnected from the life I thought I would be living after college. I didn't have health insurance, either -- Got kicked off of it because of the move -- And as a result, I was off my antidepressants.

So there I was, at a pretty low point in my life. I miserable and lonely and every single day dragged on. And on. And on. And I felt so disappointed in myself. That disappointment became self-loathing, and it all kinda spiraled.

Have I mentioned that I'm a huge Sonic fan? I don't think I need to. I'd say it's pretty obvious. But for the sake of this story, I'll say it again: I'm a HUGE Sonic fan. I've been that way since 2003 with Sonic Heroes. The franchise has been in my life for over two decades. I had a monthly mail subscription to Archie's Sonic the Hedgehog. Sonic the Hedgehog was something that I truly loved more than any other piece of media. It brought me endless joy. Until I didn't.

I had dropped Sonic after Lost World was... Itself. I had already felt pretty irritated with the Meta Era, and Lost World was the final straw. The last bit of hope that the series could recover was snuffed out when Forces was released. It was over. I was done. If Sonic was truly that embarrassed by itself, if they had truly lost touch with what made the series so great, then I wouldn't waste my time any longer. I was so sure that I had to just... Grieve and move on. My beloved childhood game series was dead. Long live the king or whatever. I'd just bitterly read IDW Sonic and think about what could've been. I was lucky to have that comic, at least. Archie had been canceled, too, after all. I was lucky to have my scraps.

Then Sonic Frontiers came out. And it changed everything.

And my god, it was everything. It was everything to me. Flaws be damned, it was everything. To. Me. The spectacle. The serious tone. The vastly improved writing. Kellin Fucking Quinn. It was FUN! It was actually FUN to PLAY. He was back. I was back. Sonic pulled me by my hand out of the ocean of misery I'd fallen into, and he looked me in my eye and he said;

"Hey. You're gonna be alright."

Metaphorically speaking. Sonic The Hedgehog didn't actually literally speak to me -- And sure, okay, maybe it's a little dramatic to describe a game as this great Depression Annihilator but I'm dead serious when I say that, for that time, before I was able to get back on my meds, I was self-medicating with Sonic.

Sonic was all I was thinking about. I reread the Unleashed arc in Archie Sonic, which got me sorta realizing something, and which led to my post where I said something along the lines of "Sonic would hide a zombie bite."

Archie Sonic would, at least. Because he basically did do that in the Unleashed arc of that comic. He let that problem fester until it became an even bigger problem because, ironically, he didn't want to be a problem.

So one thing led to another. I thought more about Sonic becoming a zombie. Bada-bing, bada-boom, Infested was born.

I didn't expect it to get the attention that it did. I felt lucky when the first page I drew Rouge on (Page 6 I think?) blew up. The right people saw it at the right time. I'm extremely grateful for that.

I'm extremely grateful for all of you.

So yeah, one chapter. Woo! Here's to many more.

[ddejavvu]

idk why im sending this to you specifically but i cant stop thinking about james being on top during sex and his glasses just falling off every two seconds. and like he refuses to take them off bc he "wants to see you" but also sir, im getting hit in the face by your glasses.

this post is 18+, minors dni.

Metal hits the bridge of your nose for the fourth time since James hooked one leg on either side of your waist, and you reach up to snatch the spectacles off of your face.

"That's it. You're done."

"No!" James grabs for the glasses, gentle but insistent as he tries not to crush them, "No, darling please, I want to see you!"

"You want to see me, James?" You huff, an insistent ache between your thighs at the perpetual friction against your clothed crotch as James lazily grinds down onto you, "I'm sure there's a big bruise on my face now, you want to see it?"

"They haven't bruised your face," James has managed to snatch his glasses back and he balances them precariously on his nose once more, the nosepads already sliding down his sweat-beaded face, "You look lovely darling. You look pissed, but lovely."

"If those things fall onto my face one more time, I'll snap 'em-" The rest of your sentence is lost to a moan that you can't fight back as James rolls his hips hard against yours.

"Yes, yes, you'll snap them and then I won't be able to find my way to the front door," James gripes, latching his lips onto your jaw in a suctioned kiss, "Let's settle down darling, hm? Your threats are really killing the mood."

[lightsoutnaway]

Hellloooo can I request Carlos x Reader meeting his dad/family for the first time??

Thank youuu!!!

Meet the Family

PAIRING: Carlos Sainz Jr. x Reader

WARNINGS: None

SUMMARY: You meet Carlos' family at the Spanish Gran Prix.

WORD COUNT: 1,114

A/N: Thank you so much for this request! Sorry it took so long for me to get too. I've just gotten through a big series of projects at work though, and I have a lot of free time opening up! I appreciate your patience.

You were hanging your clothes in the closet of the hotel that you were staying at. You really wished they would build a track in Madrid so you could have one race where you and Carlos got to sleep at home. You picked up your last dress, sliding it onto a hanger and placing it in the hotel closet. 

“What do you want to do for dinner?” You asked Carlos as you started putting your shoes away. 

“My dad has a dinner reservation for all of us tonight,” Carlos told you. You froze. 

“Your dad?” You asked.

“Yes,” Carlos answered. “My mom and sister too.” 

“You didn’t tell me they would be here!” You exclaimed. Carlos looked over at you. He hadn’t realized your panic until then. 

“It’s the Spanish Gran Prix. I assumed you would know,” Carlos replied. 

“I assumed you would give me a warning before I met your family,” you told him. You ran a hand through your hair. Carlos tried to hold in a smile at your anxiety. “I don’t have gifts for any of them, Carlos.” 

“You don’t need gifts for them,” Carlos said. 

“My clothes aren’t nice enough either,” you continued. “I didn’t bring anything that’s right for dinner with your parents.” 

“You look perfect right now,” Carlos replied. You weren’t really listening. You stopped and looked at him. 

“Carlos, what if they hate me?” You asked. Carlos frowned. 

“They will not hate you,” Carlos assured you. 

“How do you know?” You pressed. 

“Because I love you. And they’re my family,” he answered. You took a deep breath. 

“Are you sure they won’t hate me?” You asked. Carlos chuckled. 

“They’ll love you, mi amor. My mother has been asking about you for months,” he told you. “She tells me how much happier I seem every time we talk. She knows it’s because of you.” Your cheeks warmed and your heart skipped a beat. 

“What about your dad?” You asked. You knew how much Carlos loved and respected his father. The approval of Carlos Sainz Sr. was something that you found yourself wanting the same way his son did. 

“He’ll love you too, amor,” Carlos assured you. “They all will. You’re going to fit right in.” You took a deep breath and nodded hesitantly.

“Do you really think that they’ll like me? You’re not just saying it?” You asked. Carlos reached up and pushed a hair out of your eyes. 

“Yes, mi amor. I have no worries. They will love you almost as much as I do,” he assured you. “We’re meeting them in an hour.” Your heart leapt in your chest. Meeting your boyfriend’s parents with one hour notice wouldn’t have been your first plan, but it didn’t give you much time to worry. When you arrived at the restaurant Carlos Sr., Reyes, and Blanca were all there already. You weren’t late, but the idea that you had kept them waiting already had you expecting that they hated you. Instead when you walked up Reyes wrapped you in a hug, quickly followed by her husband and daughter. 

“Y/N! It is so good to meet you,” Reyes greeted. Reyes hugged her son as Blanca kissed your cheeks. “Ella es muy bonita, Carlito,” Reyes praised her son. 

“My son never stops talking about you,” Carlos Sr. said as you sat down. “He tells us all about your job.” You looked at Carlos, a bashful expression spreading over your face. 

“Yes, I love my job. It’s not quite as exciting as being a racecar driver, but I like it,” you said. 

“I’ve asked him some questions, but I’m not sure he listens to you as well as he should…” Carlos Sr. proceeded to ask you about your career, clearly impressed by the fact that you were so advanced in your field. Blanca quickly took to you, her sense of humor matching yours–similar to her brother. Reyes didn’t say much but as she watched her son fawn over you, she didn’t find the need to ask you anything. 

“Do you want the last bite?” Carlos held out a forkful of chocolate cake to you. You smiled and let him feed it to you. 

“Thank you, my love,” you gushed before kissing his cheek. As sick as the sight made her, Blanca couldn’t help but be happy for her brother. Reyes and Carlos Sr. had knowing smiles on their faces as they watched their son. You were the one. They knew it just as well as their son did. Carlos Sr. paid for the meal before Carlos pulled your chair out for you, offering his arm to you as you exited the restaurant. Reyes and Blanca were chatting with you about where you would meet in the paddock tomorrow as Carlos went up to the valet stand with his father. The two of them handed their tickets to the valet before he walked off to get their cars. Carlos was watching you laugh with his mom and sister, his father observing the way his son stared at you so fondly. 

“Don’t mess it up with this one,” Carlos Sr. warned his son. “You’re never going to do better.” Carlos looked over at his dad and chuckled. 

“You don’t need to worry about that,” Carlos assured his father. Carlos opened your car door for you before all of you headed out. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow!” You called to Carlos’ family through the open car window. Carlos smiled to himself before reaching over and innocently resting his hand on your leg as he drove back to the hotel. 

“I told you that they would love you,” Carlos teased you. 

“You were nervous when you met my parents,” you reminded him with a huff. 

“Your dad is scary,” Carlos said. 

“I told you that he would like you though,” you replied. 

“And you were right. And I was right that my family would like you,” Carlos said. “We are just one big happy family.” You giggled. 

“We’re family?” You asked softly. 

“Yes,” Carlos said firmly. “Soon enough it will be legal too.” You looked at Carlos with wide eyes. 

“What?” Your voice was small and hopeful. Carlos smirked. 

“I thought I could adopt you,” he said. “Charles and Oscar made it seem fun.” You laughed at him. Carlos pulled up to the hotel. 

“I don’t need to be adopted though. I’ve got parents,” you teased as Carlos helped you from his car. He smiled as he wound his fingers between yours. His fingertip rubbed against the empty spot on your left ring finger that would be occupied soon enough. 

“That’s okay,” Carlos assured you. “I can think of another way to make you my family."

[k8martins]

*✸ naked in manhattan

summary: reader is kate martin’s first love and wants to reconnect after she comes to new york for the draft, based on naked in manhattan by chappell roan

request: no / yes

warnings: some suggestive stuff towards the end

a/n: i lovvvved this rec i really hope i did it justice… got carried away again and i’m lowkey drunk rn so

“hey kate, it’s me… congrats on the draft! i know we haven’t talked in forever and you’re busy but um… i don’t know, maybe we could meet up sometime? if you want? just let me know. bye.”

the fact kate didn’t answer the call at all made you rethink your choices of not just calling her, but buying a ticket to the draft. your stomach churned after leaving the voicemail, cringing at all of the awkward pauses. you spoke cautiously out of fear of misspeaking somehow, even though you rehearsed the message a thousand times beforehand. it’s like you knew she wouldn’t answer, but still anxious that she didn’t. did she choose not to pick up? is she even thinking of me? all of the torturous scenarios ran through your thoughts, but you ultimately chalked it up to her being obviously busy.

either way, kate had to have at least acknowledged being in the same state as you again; new york. there’s no way she could’ve simply forgotten all the years of dating through high school, and eventually the painful breakup early into freshman year of college. the relationship between you and kate was near perfect; you complimented each other physically and emotionally, and everyone considered you and her as a power couple. there was no doubt that you wouldn’t stop loving kate even after breaking up for the sake of long distance. you had tried to make it work, but kate’s busy schedule and being in different states made for a rough patch in the relationship. the break up inevitably left both of you on good terms, but the constant busyness in both your lives ended up drifting you away from each other. you still exchanged small texts here and there for birthdays or holidays but both of you simply let it happen, since there was pretty much no time to work things out. days without talking turned into weeks, then months, then years without a full and genuine conversation. it broke your heart, but you knew kate was pursuing her dreams out in iowa, and you were doing the same in new york.

you stared at tomorrow’s wnba draft ticket sitting on your desk in your small apartment. it was a sign of a girl that you once knew inside and out; a girl you still tended to imagine roaming through your apartment as if you lived together, as if things were still the way they were before. your mind analyzed the times both of you would talk about eventually living together, and experiencing future years together. the way kate’s eyes would light up at the possibilities of doing anything with you; the mundane or the magical. the more you thought about your old relationship with kate, the more it validated you in wanting to meet up with her. it didn’t have to be anything more than a friendly hang out, but deep down you wanted her back more than anything. realizing these thoughts took your breath away, you forced yourself to breathe deeply and shake kate away from your mind. at least for a little bit.

——————————————————————————

your playlist wasn’t exactly helping you stay calm while getting ready for the draft. listening to music was always a way you tried to get your mind off things, but as chappell roan sang her song it was like she knew about your situation with kate.

“in new york, you can try things,

an inch away from more than just friends”

you skipped the song and continued applying mascara. still, your heart pounded at the thought of seeing kate at the draft. even before you bought a ticket, you envisioned the night in your head; tall and beautiful kate walking up to the stage, her enchanting blue eyes meeting yours from the crowd. kate wasn’t even sure of getting drafted for certain, but you had high hopes for her.

getting up from your desk, you walked over to the full mirror. you kept it casual, wearing a long black dress and minimalistic jewelry. would kate even notice me in the crowd? did she even listen to the voicemail? the thoughts were never ending, but you had to move forward. you grabbed your keys and headed out the door.

as you stepped into the draft building, you wouldn’t be surprised if you fell over right there. an endless sea of guests filled the room with dim overhead lights and a large sprawling stage up front. you found your seat in the way back and waited. recognizing all of the accomplished athletes was nothing compared to who you were really looking for. you craned your neck looking for kate, eventually landing on a girl with long blonde hair down her back, assuming it’s her. you stared at the back of her head as if it held a secret message, replaying your past memories with her in your head over and over. the girl you considered an extension of yourself was now in the same room as you for the first time in years, but far away, and on a completely different track in life. still, you thought of your voicemail, glad you at least reached out.

your eyes were glued to kate when all of a sudden she turned her head and looked behind her. immediately looking away, you were too late as she picked you out in the crowd, noticing your stare. out of the corner of your eye, you saw her do a double take on you. it was like the eye contact alone knocked the wind out of you, and your body rushed with emotion. kate now knows you’re here.

the draft was a long process, but something you were willing to sit through, because you knew kate had great things coming. at one point, a woman was announcing the 18th overall pick for the las vegas aces, and you monitored the movement around kate. people had moved near her with cameras, and all eyes were on her. your heart raced as you realized you were watching your ex girlfriend’s dreams come true right in front of your eyes, except you weren’t necessarily apart of it. you ached as you wished so deeply to be sitting next to her, still as her established lover, and supporting her through and through. you had told her during the breakup that you support her no matter what, but it was never the same since the split.

“with the 18th overall pick, the las vegas aces select, kate martin.”

you knew it. your mouth hung open as you watched kate get up and walk towards the stage, just as you imagined so many times before. the people who hugged her on her way up were watched with envy. yet you still joined in on the roaring applause, your eyes growing teary. it was all hitting you at once; how you regretted ever drifting from her, and how badly you desired to be with her every step of the way. why did i ever let that happen?

kate stood on stage holding up her new vegas jersey for a picture. her gorgeous appearance hadn’t changed much since you last saw her, except for the perfectly straightened hair and minimal makeup, which you remembered she never knew how to do complex makeup looks anyway. you then began to daydream about doing it for her, but snapped out of it when she began to step off stage. you didn’t want to make eye contact with her again, but couldn’t take your gaze away from her. and sure enough, you locked eyes again as she walked back to her seat. basically flinching, you looked away and felt irritated at yourself. you sat through the rest of the draft until it came to a close.

——————————————————————————

the stone wall was cold on your back as you stood outside for fresh air. you weren’t going to leave just yet in hopes for the traffic and commotion to die down a bit. you were checking your phone repeatedly, growing tired and doubtful, uncertain if you even cared about meeting up with kate anymore. it was late, and the night was cool. everyone you watched had someone, and somewhere to go home to. hand in hand with their other half, walking away into the night. again, your mind replaced every couple you saw with you and kate. you checked your phone once more for any updates, and felt nothing when there was none. the blank home screen kickstarted your brisk walk to the car, trying not to get too upset. you threw yourself down in the drivers seat when you felt your phone buzz.

“where you at?”

damn you kate. as your heart dropped to your stomach, you nearly teleported out of the car. forgetting to even reply to her, you aimlessly started down the crowded streets. numerous people gave you looks as you quickly shoved against the flow of people. one person in particular had muttered criticism as he moved past you. you stopped in your tracks to turn around and yell an apology, and kept walking with your head still turned behind you. suddenly, your whole body grew tense as you felt a stern grip on your shoulders. whipping your head around, you were face to face with kate martin. unable to stifle your reaction, you slightly yelped with wide eyes. kate laughed at both your reaction and the unreal feeling of seeing you again.

“kate!” you exclaimed, throwing up your hands in disbelief while looking her up and down.

she simply hugged you in response. it was a swift motion of being swept into her arms, a tight hold as if you were going to disappear. you could’ve stayed like that forever and wouldn’t mind. your body nearly went numb with the overwhelming feeling.

“congratulations, kate. i’m so proud of you,” you managed to say within her iron grip.

kate pulled away and thanked you. “you don’t know how long i’ve been waiting for this moment,” she admitted. and now that you saw it, you noticed the emotion in her face as well.

before you could say anything, she moved her hands back to your shoulders saying, “we have to go, there’s still a ton of people trying to see me but i only wanted to see you.” she rushed the second half of the sentence but you could tell she was being genuine.

you grabbed her hand and led her to your car in order to escape from the media. hand in hand, the two of you were practically jogging. despite the fast getaway, kate was trying to tell you how she was happy to see you at the draft. giggling like an idiot, you both got in your car and caught your breath.

“i cannot believe you’re in my car right now,” you said, looking over at her with your best ‘i want you so bad’ look.

“i can’t believe i ever let you go,” kate said, casually looking away after saying the most un-casual thing ever.

your heart skipped a beat. the way you looked at each other was like you never left high school, and you never broke up. all the feelings were still right were you kept them, and kate reciprocated.

“so… where are we gonna go?” you asked sheepishly. the question was obviously meant to address the present moment, but you also hoped she would read between the lines and answer it in the context of your relationship. either way, you didn’t care what happened that night. you just wanted to be with her and nothing else.

“hm… the bars are gonna be packed so…” kate trailed off, looking back at you.

“are you saying you wanna go back to my place? wowww kate moving a bit fast,” you joked, making her laugh and blush.

“we’re not strangers babe. you know me so well,” she said with her addicting smile. it’s like she was purposefully trying to stop your heart. anything and everything she said or did made you crazy.

“fine we can chill at my place.”

as soon as you pulled out of your parking space, the years between you and kate not speaking were erased and forgotten. the conversation started up immediately and didn’t die down until you got to your apartment. hearing kate’s lovely laugh was something you missed so dearly while talking to her, along with the stupid jokes she would make. it was all the same old kate you knew before.

you keyed into your apartment and let your hands fall at your sides.

“well, this is where i’ve been livin’. it’s not much but it’s cute i guess.”

kate seemed weirdly impressed with your apartment. “you guess? this is actually so cute! the decorations…” she mumbled as she ran her fingers along the counter tops and looked all around.

here she was once again re-enacting the exact scenarios you imagined in your head. slowly walking through your apartment, taking everything in. it was as if the stars aligned, but you had to keep your cool. for what, you weren’t sure.

“so… i have a few drinks if you still feel like drinking,” you gestured towards the fridge as she closely walked past you. she smelled faintly of a nice perfume which made your head swim. all you wanted to do was climb on her and kiss the way you used to, but still weren’t certain she wanted to do the same just yet.

the night descended into many shared drinks sitting on the couch watching dumb shows. the two of you finished cup after cup, with almost no end in sight. kate’s draft gave an actual good excuse to drink, and both of you took it up without fail. your vision was growing hazy and you had trouble even speaking, but kate still looked stunning sitting in front of you. neither of you cared how late it was getting, although you were still concerned of kate’s plans.

“don’t you have to like… go to vegas or something?” you slurred your words, smiling dumbly at kate.

“no, not yet. i’m staying here for a few days.”

you could hear the intoxication in her voice.

“are you sure?” you questioned, laughing at nothing.

kate gave you a look and it became apparent that she had places to be, but simply didn’t care to leave your side. the way she looked at you made you proud of your self control. you didn’t want to move too fast after not seeing her for years, but the chances of taking it slow were becoming more and more slim. either way, she still made you nervous with her devious looks.

“i’ll be… right back, i just wanna… change out of this dress real quick. it’s so annoying,” you blubbered to kate and stumbled towards your room.

“woah wait you’re gonna fall,” kate laughed at you and got up, following close behind you.

“no i’m notttt!” you made it to your room and began doing everything but taking your dress off. your drunken state made it hard to actually change out of your clothes. you stood there merely tugging at your dress and pulling at the straps. both of you burst out laughing at your stupid mannerisms, another moment you missed.

“here lemme help you,” kate muttered.

you were still giggling a bit as kate gently took the hem of your dress and pulled it up above your head.

“i’m not looking by the way,” she said.

“girl look all you want,” you practically begged.

so there you stood in your bra and undies, in front of a fully clothed kate. she looked you up and down with a knowing smile. she stepped even closer to you and placed her hands on your waist. you looked up at her and you looked in each others eyes with the same desires in mind. your mind swam desperately, trying to find the perfect words to say, but too drunk to succeed.

“kate… i’ve been wanting.. missing…” you started off.

“i know, baby…”

she was still able to read you. although you were too drunk to acceptably articulate words, she gently cupped your face and pulled into a deep kiss. it was like a part of you was unlocked again, a part that was hidden away for so long. you ran your hands through her highlighted hair and grasped it, making her groan into the kiss. her hands were unable to stop roaming your body, a place she hadn’t explored in quite some time.

she broke the kiss to sit down on the bed, and gesturing for you to get in her lap. you laughed in excitement and also relief that she wanted to do the exact things you did. you essentially straddled her lap as she immediately reconnected the kiss. your mind was in disbelief that you were finally making out with kate martin again. the kiss was meaningful and hungry, it was a wordless way to tell you everything you needed to know. it told you about everything you had missed. you pulled away to breathe and she instantly connected her lips to your neck. remembering how she is, you realized you were in for several hickeys.

“kate baby… go easy on the… the hickeys…”

“yeah right,” she said breathlessly.

you bit your lip and succumbed to the melting feeling of her lips on your neck and collarbones, which was its own form of intoxication. you were willing to let kate do whatever she wanted to you. your trust was still there.

the effect of the drinks had still not worn off as each movement began to blend into the next, smudging together in your thoughts like a romantic impressionist painting. kate had less clothes on, and both of you were ending up in different positions than remembered. but things were objectively slowing down, as the both of you grew tired. kate had moved you onto your back, lazily and slowly kissing down your body.

you felt yourself beginning to drift off as kate simply rested her head on your chest. her blonde hair was now very messy, her beautiful face now exasperated and lips puffy from extensive kissing. you began stroking her hair and almost let yourself doze off before kate began to mumble.

“i love you.”

the phrase alone almost woke you up entirely.

“i love you more kate.”

it was then you could finally fall asleep, with the world in your arms.

[wri0thesley]

cw: cunnilingus, not sfw, arranged marriage reader wearing a gown (no pronouns). based on this post from a few days ago. 3.1k

There's a pout on your pretty mouth that Wriothesley is utterly itching to kiss off. 

It’s an expression he’s grown rather used to on the face of his spouse; somebody as properly born and bred to society as you finds themselves a touch adrift when faced with Wriothesley’s own gruff manner, his inability to kowtow to the strictures that Fontainian society attempts to place on those who have ascended to its lofty heights. 

Unfortunately, when his availability had become common knowledge and eager parents had flocked to him in order to hawk their beloved children like so many lovely wares, he had found himself exceedingly drawn to you. To the stiff little way you held yourself and inclined your head, the way your voice had shook - the way that you hadn’t immediately tried to flutter your lashes and laugh at things that were not jokes. 

It had not hurt that your family, though fine of name and lineage, had fallen somewhat into financial difficulty. Some parents had withdrawn their offspring from the game of courtship when it had become clear that though Wriothesley now had the title of ‘Duke’, he was still at heart a former criminal, and not the genteel fawning aristocrat they had expected to find. 

(A title is not enough to take back over half a life spent in the fortress of Meropide, after all; not enough to scrub the memory of noses crunching beneath his fists, of what it feels like to end someone’s life even if it is for the greater good). 

Your family, though, had needed the boost; the Mora and the prestige. And so you had remained achingly polite and maddeningly prim and proper and so very obviously inexperienced that the sweetness of it all made the back of Wriothesley’s teeth ache. 

“Where are you taking me?” You ask him, in a soft whisper, as his hand fastens firmly but not bruisingly about your upper arm; as your husband maneuvers you away from the chatter of the ballroom. “You’ve barely greeted anyone--” 

He knows you are scandalised; that your parents have taught you to be the gracious party guest, to bow and chatter idly and wax poetic about crystal champagne glasses. But Wriothesley has spoken to Chief Justice Neuvillette (just as out of place and adrift here as Wriothesley himself), and he considers that his duty properly done. He has no desire to do the things that are expected of him. 

Not when that pout on your face - the way the light hits the glimmering petals of your lower lip - is begging to be kissed within an inch of its life, and the moonlight streaming through the windows is illuminating the curves of you in your pretty gown, and he knows that you will squirm and squeak and call him a dirty old man in that way he loves, your voice pitching with desire you’re still not sure about, the moment he has you alone at his mercy in one of the shadowed hallways of tonight’s party. 

“Just to get some air,” he says, giving a smile that’s all wolf-bared teeth to the closest gentleman who dares to give you both a briefly disapproving look. “Isn’t it just so horribly stuffy in there?”

Your nose wrinkles, between your brows creasing. Wriothesley thinks about kissing every place the flesh furrows on your face, covering you in them until you’re helpless to do anything but laugh. He always feels like a hero when he has managed a laugh out of you; you seem to give them so rarely, and it’s such a darling little bell of a noise. 

“It’s barely been ten minutes,” you settle on, the faintest hint of reproach in your voice. “It’s really not polite . . .”

What is not polite, he thinks, is the way that the run of his thoughts have turned to your dress, cut low enough to make people think indecent thoughts about you. There are no manners, either, to the fact he is thinking about the perfume he had watched you dab on this evening, and wondering how long he’d have to rut into you until the only thing that people could smell on you would be the musk of his ownership. 

“They’ll live,” Wriothesley says firmly, steering you out into the hallway. “You ought to know nobody here really wants my esteemed company.”

There’s no bitterness in his voice. Wriothesley does not want to be beloved of this particular roiling mass of humanity; the aristocracy, in his experience, is all artifice. He may spend his time with criminals, but at least the criminal underclasses are usually honest about what they want. They’ve been taught that ‘you do not get if you do not ask, do not try, do not work for it’ - these people, this gathering of society schmoozers . . . they get simply by being born. 

Of course, since he married you, there have been more invitations than before. 

Part of it is curiosity - what kind of spouse will the Duke of the Fortress take? One like him, who does not conform? Some of them want nothing more than to ogle at you and find out your secrets, poke you in your softest parts so they know if you will be a weakness that they can later exploit. Wriothesley finds these people distasteful - at least some of the invitations come from those who have already met you, who have been charmed by your pretty manners and sweet way of speaking, who are hoping that perhaps you will be some calming influence on your uncivilised brute of a husband. He still doesn’t like these invitations, of course (any event in which he is forced to put on a stiffly starched shirt and button it to his throat, to fuss with cravats and tailcoats when he’d rather stick to his own clothes, are not generally met with much pleasure for him), but at least you always seem thrilled to get them. 

It’s because of you he had accepted this one. When you had brought the invitation to him all bright-eyed and chirping, like a pretty magpie with a shiny coin, he had not been able to think of an excuse faced with you looking so utterly thrilled . . . and so he’d helped you choose a dress (he does so love you in black and red, and if he had chosen something cut low in the chest for reasons of his own, who is going to blame him when they see you?), and had travelled out of the Fortress in order to please you. 

He’d only lasted ten minutes, but perhaps after he’s pleased himself the two of you can go back out into the throes and he will have the memory of what you’ve just done to dwell on as he pretends to care about the difference between the fish fork and the dessert fork. 

“That’s just because you don’t let them see the real you,” you begin, but Wriothesley has seen what looks like a likely little hallway - secluded and dark, only one or two doorways leading off of it. He tugs at you, and though you offer a token resistance, you allow yourself after a moment to be pulled into the little alcove, and for your husband to cage you against a wall. Your breath catches, your lashes fluttering as your eyes flit to take in the breadth of him, the muscles, the way you are inescapably caught by him - and Wriothesley does not miss the desire that dances over your gaze. “Your Grace--”

“Mmm?” He asks, raising an eyebrow, lowering his face closer to yours so that he can see himself reflected in your eyes. His cock twitches at the way you bite your lip unconsciously, and he knows from the little gasp that you do not miss the sensation of it against you. “Am I doing something untoward again, sweetheart?”

He lets his voice roughen a touch on the word; the patois of the criminal flavouring it in a way that reminds you he is dangerous, and you pout so sweetly and let out the quietest little whine that he doesn’t know how he stops himself from having his way with you right then and there. There are many untoward things he would like to do to you; many untoward things he is planning on doing to you, right here, in public. 

“It’s indecent . . .” You gasp - but you still wrap your arms around his neck, and still pull him in to let him kiss you hot and hungry and fierce as a wolf. He cannot get enough of the way you taste beneath him; there is sugar that lingers on your lips even when he hasn’t seen you imbibe anything but a single glass of champagne when offered. He wants to devour you; to taste every part of you, until his mouth only remembers the lingering remnants of your own. 

You gasp, pressing your body - soft and impossibly pliable - against his wherever you can reach him, hard planes of muscle meeting the softer give of your flesh beneath your gown. 

“You seem to like it well enough,” he murmurs, pulling back just enough to whisper it into the delicate shell of your ear, delighting in the way the words make you shiver. You try to school your face to sternness, but your own desire betrays you even as you try and pull your dignity around you like a cloak. 

“B-But, Your Grace, in public--”

“Mm . . . doesn’t the thrill of being caught make it seem all the sweeter?” He gives you a grin that shines like the sharks that sometimes float past the Fortress, serenely serrated. You squeak in a cross between dismay and longing as he sinks to the floor, and his big, scarred hands find the hem of your gown to begin pushing it up your ankles. 

The frills and fripperies of lace and ribbons look almost wicked, in those hands; fine, delicate concoctions of fabric and satin that were not made to be man-handled. You shiver at the thought of his grip ripping through them; of fine fabrics being rent asunder in his hands as you know he is capable of. 

“We shouldn’t--” You whisper, in that pitching whine of ‘don’t’ that is only a step away from ‘please don’t stop’.

His palms - he will not even grudgingly wear full gloves - feel cool, even through your stockings, as he slides them up your calf. His chuckle is a rough-spurred thing, and before you can say anything further he has disappeared beneath your skirts entirely, and you find yourself clinging to the moulding on the wall behind you to try and get some semblance of purchase. 

He tugs at one of the ribbons that keeps your stockings held up, and from the hot puff of air against your bare thigh, you know he has done so with his teeth. Your pulse flutters in your throat, your vision fair spotting with the mixture of feelings that Wriothesley’s actions are drawing forth from you - desire and shame and wanting and need and unsurety, all mixing together inside of you in a cocktail of arousal so potent you barely know how you stand it. 

A wet, open-mouthed kiss is pressed to the spot above your stocking, on your bare thigh. You feel the graze of his teeth against the soft skin, unseen by anyone aside from him. Unmarked by anyone aside from him (you have learnt that the Duke is very fond of using his teeth, during his bed-chamber escapades; you have learnt more at his mouth and his fingers and his mercy than you had ever thought that you would have cause to know). 

Wriothesley’s cock is so hard in his too-tight formal trousers that he can barely think of anything but the pulse between his thighs, but the moment he has his head beneath your skirts and he can scent your arousal on the air, all thoughts of tending to his own almost-painful erection instead turn to tasting you, smelling you, burying himself inside of you until you are a helpless mess. 

He knows that logically you taste, probably, of the oils and the powders and the lotions you use, on your skin and in your bath. Perhaps a touch of your own sweat - but to Wriothesley, the taste that lingers on the tip of his tongue as he takes his time kissing up your thigh, working towards the apex between them, is nothing short of ambrosial. He can hear his own breaths, hard and panting, but he has never been the kind of man who lets himself feel shamed for doing what he wants. 

“You’re dripping,” he grunts, and the muscles in your thighs jump, tensing, as if you’re cringing at what he has said - and though he cannot see you from his place beneath the skirts of your gown, he can gladly imagine the expression on your face. You’re darling. He wants to kiss you until you can’t breathe and fuck you until you can’t walk; but for now . . .

He settles by kissing over the softness of your mound, letting his hot breath once more fan out over that most intimate part of you. He hears you whine again from somewhere above him;

“Wriothesley, you’re being obscene . . .”

He lets his mouth fully envelope your cunt; lets his tongue lathe out across your folds, flickering against your clit in a way that makes you violently jerk. The moan that you let out is muffled - one of your own (gloved, as is right and proper in society) hands has flown up to your mouth. Though he will miss the sound of your enjoyment unencumbered, he supposes it is better for privacy if you at least make an attempt.

“So you want me to stop?” He growls, the taste of your slick lingering on his tongue, honey-thick and just as sweet. To drive in the point of what you would be missing, he lets himself give your clit - the swollen nub standing to attention, as if begging him for more - a kitten lick. 

“Don’t even think about it, you scoundrel,” you say, whisper-soft and gasping, and Wriothesley knows you cannot possibly fail to sense the curve of his lips against your cunt. 

“As you wish,” he says. “Never let it be said that I don’t take my duties as a Duke and a gentleman seriously.”

And he returns to his task with voracious excitement. 

He has done this to you before, but never in public - never with you standing, never with the threat of discovery looming over his head . . . he finds he does indeed quite enjoy the thrill, so he takes his sweet time exploring your folds with his tongue, letting himself be even wetter and messier than he’d normally be. 

The sound is indeed obscene, as he delves the tip of his tongue between your folds - as he finds your pulsing entrance and toys with it, slipping just a little of the flexible muscle inside of the channel until he feels you try and clamp down on it, before he returns to the wet circling of your fluttering hole. 

His nose presses directly into the softness of your mound, grinding against your clit with every slight adjustment of his head. Normally, you’d at least be able to tug on his hair as he did this (and he’s rather fond of that too - the way you do even that so neatly, so apologetically), but now you are entirely at his mercy and it is obvious from the tremble in your thigh, as if you are going to swoon to the floor at any moment. 

You shift to rest more against the wall and Wriothesley takes that as an excuse to manhandle you - he takes one of your thighs and slings it over his shoulder, unbalancing you but for a moment - but giving him far better access to the spot between your legs. 

Far easier, like this, for him to use thumb and forefinger to tease the lips of your labia apart and to settle his mouth around the pearl of your clit. 

You jerk in surprise again, more soft muffled whimpering coming from above. He can make out a few of the words - ‘scoundrel, rake, you filthy pervert, Wriothesley Your Grace please don’t stop--’

He is not a cruel husband, so he does not. 

Your clit, pulsing with need, is drawn into his mouth - and Wriothesley takes great pleasure in suckling upon it the way that one might a particularly delicious candy, his tongue lathing over and over and over. You squirm in his grip, and he imagines your face as it always is when you are close to the edge. You tremble and sweat and shake for him and Wriothesley needs you to fall apart like he needs air. 

He redoubles his efforts; his other hand clenches on your inner thigh, his forefinger finding the pulsing, clenching hole of your sex. As he sucks, he gently inserts just the tip of it inside of you, and oh, you are greedy for more than his mouth--

You come with a strangled cry that is not quite caught by your glove - a clamping of your thighs around Wriothesley’s ears, and a gush of wetness that Wriothesley is more than happy to let flow into his open mouth and down his chin, to stain the collar of his starched white shirt.

When your aftershocks are over - when you are trembling not so violently, and he trusts you to stand on your own two feet, he presses a kiss to your cunt before he returns your leg to the ground.

He disentangles himself from your skirts, his knees only aching a little - nothing, really, compared to the inescapable pulse of his cock where it’s longing to be pressed hot and deep inside of you. He does not bother wiping his mouth of your release - and when you see him, his face shiny and wet with the proof of your enjoyment, you huff in embarrassment and avoid his gaze. 

You’re the sweetest little thing, he thinks again fondly. Even though you had moments ago been rutting against his mouth like the most brazen and desperate creature in Teyvat . . . now, faced with the proof of what you’ve done, you’ve gone over all proper again. 

Deftly and firmly, he takes your chin in his hand and presses a kiss against your mouth, making sure your own taste lingers on the soft petals of your lips. He makes sure he takes full control of it; that it is a press of his ownership of you like his seal pressing into wax on the missives he writes down in the depths of the Fortress. If only you knew just how much of him you owned in turn. 

“I think,” he says, his voice thick, “I feel much improved. And you were right, sweetheart, about it being rude to leave a party so quickly. Should we return back to the ballroom?”

[etz-ashashiyot]

I'm sorry, but actually I'm not over that comment whining about how several of the JVP ritual, uh, practices and bastardization of Judaism are being excluded and how we can't police people's identities.

Actually yes we absolutely can.

[Rant incoming]

Listen, I hate exclusion, alright? Inclusion is always the answer when it comes to people knowing who they are. Every obnoxious identity policing thing in the queer community that has divided us and ripped apart communities has been cruel, counterproductive, given platform to bigots, a distraction from the real issues bearing down on us, and honestly just dumb as a box of rocks. Okay? Okay.

But Jewish identity works differently, because it isn't about YOU. Becoming Jewish is about taking on Jewish culture and religion, a closed ethnoreligious culture, through the narrow path consented to by the collective Jewish people. There IS a path, but it is a highly supervised one. Otherwise it's just appropriation and cultural theft; something Jews have been subjected to for millennia. And if you do legitimately convert you do so because you love the Jewish people - the whole Jewish people - and want passionately to be a Jew for its own sake. You want to join our nation-tribe. You want to join our family.

And the crazy thing to me, the thing that still blows my mind, is that this is allowed! Even after millennia of appropriation, oppression, violence, expulsions, and genocides, Am Yisrael still accepts genuine gerim. It would be so understandable if they had closed the path entirely and tried to shut out outsiders who might bring in danger on their heels even if they themselves were not dangerous.

But they didn't. We didn't. To me this is a miracle, a blessing, and sign of true faith and hope. It is a privilege to be here.

Yet in the same turn, you gotta respect the process! You can't just declare yourself a Jew simply because you feel like it — it doesn't work like that. You can't just declare yourself an Argentinian one morning either without becoming a citizen first, even if you have Argentinian ancestry. And sure, if you do have some of that ancestry, you are connected to the nation, but that's different from being given a vote y'know?

Using a totally unsupervised, totally unsanctioned, brand-new neo-pagan ritual to unilaterally declare your membership in a tribe does not make you one of us. If anything, it proves why you never will be.

Now! Let's assume for a moment that we are referring only to the provably halachic Jews whose connection and backgrounds are beyond reasonable questioning.

You can never really leave the tribe, but you absolutely can apostasize. Plenty of Jews do it. There are plenty of Jews who find that Judaism is not spiritually fulfilling for them but something else is, and they convert out. There are halachic Jews who have walked away from Judaism in order to practice any other number of religions: Christianity, Islam, Neo-paganism, Hinduism, etc.

That is their prerogative, but by doing so they turn away from their people in a serious way and cannot be said to be practicing Judaism. There is of course room for many different types of Jewish practice, but conversely, there are practices that are too far removed from Judaism to meaningfully be considered as such. Otherwise, it's no longer a coherent group identity. And because Judaism is a collective identity, that actually matters.

The Jews as a people have decided that worshipping gods that are not Hashem is not within the realm of Judaism, which is why messianic "Jews" are not practicing a valid form of Judaism even if they are halachicly Jewish and/or have Jewish ancestry. Worshipping Jesus makes you a Christian or at least adjacent. That is a hard boundary.

And yeah — if you change the basic meaning of holidays, if you bring in lots of practices that are brand new and have no halachic or even historical basis, are often highly individualistic, and would not be accepted as Judaism by the vast majority of Jews, then it absolutely falls outside it. If I started practicing a religion that made little icons of Muhammad to pray to once a day and celebrated my ingenuity with pork roast and a nice glass of wine, I don't get to say that I'm practicing Islam.

These people are doing the Jewish equivalent. It is something else entirely. Especially because so many of these practices spit in the face of major tenets of Judaism and go against Jewish values.

To treat it otherwise is to treat it as an absolutely meaningless aesthetic rather than a living breathing ethnoreligious tribe of people who get to decide our own community's boundaries and practices collectively.

And for the naysayers who still disrespect Judaism and Jewish identity and peoplehood so much that they think that they get to define Judaism more than actual rabbis? Look, we can't physically stop you from calling yourself Jewish, but by the same turn, YOU can't force US to recognize you as one of us. You can be mad, but that's the thing about group cultural identities — that cultural group gets to decide whether they claim you or not.

[To be clear: this is not about politics — there are plenty of Jewish non-Zionists and anti-Zionists who are 100% Jewish. This is about this one specific shitty organization and this particular type of behavior.]

[i-yap]

Literally loving ur writing so far Bestie 🥺💙would I be able to req how the batboy would react to a fwb/situationship vibe with reader? Like they have feelings but reader is scared of commitment

Thank youuu! Im gonna be really honest, I don't think a lot of the batboys would be okay with a situationship sort of deal.. and I don't write romantic damian( at least not yet) .

Batboys x reader- Situationship headcanons

Dick grayson-

I can see a teammate or someone he works close with as a detective turns into a night of passion and now both of them cant go back to normal situation .

He says he is okay with it, and prolly keeps up that act for 4-5 months?

I think you would end the situationship. Dick is a really sought-after guy and one night he Is just upset with you about something. So when another girl flirts with him rather than his usual " I'm sorry there's someone else I'm into" line he flirts back. You see red

you either walk away angry/upset or pull him away. He follows you to an alley or a secluded area of the party.

"why are you even upset, you are the one who doesn't want us to be official?" "well that's not because I don't want you, that's because I'm scared of intimacy"

He would be really understanding once you explain your issues and fear of commitment. You guys come up with a better set of guidelines for your arrangement and he sticks to it.

if you want an open relationship, he is down. if you want to be exclusive but not yet in a relationship relationship he would be okay.

But dick does want to get married someday and have kids. So this arrangement wont last for long. he will try his hardest to help you overcome that fear of commitment but if you cant then its gonna end someday. And he makes that clear to you from the start. all cards are on the table always and communication is key and he makes sure no one gets hurt( or at least tries avoiding it as much as he can)

Jason todd

wont do it

maybe a bestfriend turned situationship scenario

you are his sanctuary , his home a safe place to come back to. and after everything he has been through he struggles with so many insecurities and he deserves a domestic life.

the moment he sees you with another guy, even if it just flirting, he is out the door. He already believes no one loves him and now you don't even want to commit to him? is he not enough?

he gets that you have issues and no one understands issues better than him. But he is in so much pain already that its best for the both of you to not get together at all.

even the fact that you from the very start didn't want to commit makes him get all in his head and even if you get ready to commit later on , he wont be able to forget that fact and will keep thinking you'll leave him or he isn't the one

he also reads a lot of classic literature and romance in books is what he wants. the concept of a situationship doesn't make sense to him and he just needs some good old domestic loving.

Tim drake

best at it

you guys are young, he is so busy. he is totally cool with a teenage dirtbagy relationship

lets meet under the bridge , get high and makeout type of shit,

Partners in crime / bestfriends that hookup

he loves it, its perfect for him

there are no expectations no responsibilities, you guys are just what the other needs . no stupid anniversaries and big fancy dinners

tim gives very "eat the rich" vibes so this situationship is another way for him to be a little rebellious .

Very very teenage dirtbag- going to grocery shops at 2am and sitting on the dirty floor trying all 20 types of slushies

spray painting the really big asshole companies buildings, going to huge rallies without having any idea what you are rallying for.

stealing the batmobile and then crashing it

the adrenaline makes you hot and bothered and it leads to more. and once its over you go to a shady Chinese place and tip 200 on a 40 dollar meal.

he gets you, you get him and you don't need labels to show your love to each other. and who needs someone else when you have everything you could want within each other? and then someday when you're ready and if you are ready, you can always make it official. its all up to you two , fuck the labels

[ashwhowrites]

Hiiii I’m the anon that sent this: Reader gets broken up with by a guy that she actually really liked but in reality this guy was a douchy football player that was rude to her friends (but she didn’t know about that.)

It was meant to be a request if you’d wanna write it!

And id say that Eddie does have a crush on reader.

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

The friend

Y/N waited years and years to fall in love. She grew up watching princesses find their prince, and she wanted to feel that. She wanted to feel loved by someone who chose to, someone who looked at her and would do anything to be with her. Even if he had to fight everyone to do it. She wanted to see what it felt like to be cared about.

To her, Greg did just that. She was smitten with the jockey football player the second he sent her a dazzling smile during a game. It was like his eyes found hers in the crowd, it was fate.

It didn't take long for him to ask her out and for her to say yes immediately. She was swept off her feet and never landed. He was sweet and romantic. He showered her in love and compliments. She thought he was perfect all around.

Eddie and her friends had other thoughts. Greg was two-faced but Y/N wasn't aware of that. Chrissy hated Greg, and she hated cheering for someone like him. He was selfish, cocky, and an ass. It took a lot for Chrissy to dislike someone, and she hated Greg, that meant something.

Eddie had two reasons to hate Greg. One reason was that Greg never had nice things to say to or about Eddie. Greg believed he was trailer dirt and a freak, just like everyone else. But Y/N didn't know that. The second reason was that Eddie was helplessly in love with Y/N.

Did he have the chance to go for it? Definitely but he was terrified. It was scary enough to tell a girl he liked her, but to tell his best friend? He wasn't sure he could handle the rejection.

Eddie and Chrissy grew closer over their dislike for Greg. Chrissy knew Eddie was in love with their best friend before Eddie realized it. Chrissy never understood how Y/N didn't catch on. Eddie was in no way good at hiding it. He stuttered over sentences, clumsier than ever, smiled the second she looked at him, and he'd do anything she asked.

Once Eddie saw her with Greg, he believed that was his sign that they would never be anything more. Eddie and Greg were two completely different people.

When the news broke out that Y/N and Greg broke up after almost a year together, many people had things to say. But no one would say it to her. Eddie felt relieved that his year of suffering was over. But he knew it was a matter of time before some new guy came along. He wasn't sure he could let that happen.

~~~

"I don't understand why he broke up with me," Y/N sobbed. Her head was in Eddie's chest as she soaked his band tee in her tears.

Eddie softly held her in his arms. His chin was on her head as his fingers ran through her hair.

"I don't either, babes." And he was honest. He couldn't imagine ever breaking up with her. She was easily the best person anyone could be with.

"Do you think it's because I'm not pretty enough?" She sniffled, her head facing him as she pulled back away, letting him search her face for the flaws she believed she had.

Eddie smiled and cleaned off her tears with his thumbs. Her red puffy eyes, wet cheeks, and trembling bottom lip. He couldn't lie to her.

"No. I think even right now you are the most beautiful girl I've ever seen."

Eddie was dead serious. A sense of truth in his eyes as he barely blinked. His voice was deep and low, with no sounds of jokes.

The intensity in his face made her nervous and shy. She dug her head back into his warm chest as she held him tighter.

"He's the idiot who let you go."

~~~

Eddie was patient as his best friend recovered from the breakup. Chrissy and Eddie high-fived behind her back, sharing smiles and looks.

"I heard you and Greg broke up! Congratulations that guy was a di-" Dustin's voice was cut off, replaced with a groan.

Y/N turned around confused, Eddie standing next to Dustin with a smile. Dustin held his arm with a whimper.

"Congratulations? What does that mean?" Y/N pushed further.

Eddie and Chrissy looked at each other, trying to think of a fast lie.

"I know someone who likes you! It's a congrats to him!" Dustin said with a smile as he covered his lie. He looked to Eddie for approval and his smile dropped at the look on his face.

"Who?" Y/N perked up. For once, after a long week of crying, she smiled.

"That's not his place to tell. Why don't we go to lunch?" Eddie said, grabbing Dustin's arm and dragging him down the hall.

"That was weird," Y/N said as she turned to Chrissy.

"Why are you smiling like that?" Y/N asked. Chrissy stood with a huge cheesy grin.

Chrissy snapped out of her daydream of Eddie and Y/N finally together. Quick with a lie.

"It's good to see you smile again, now let's go eat."

~~~

Another week passed. Two weeks since her heart was shattered but she could feel herself healing. She had to thank Eddie for all of it. He was always there, holding her as she cried and talking her through everything.

Her mind was still thinking about who Dustin was talking about. The idea of a guy liking her made her feel less insecure. Maybe Greg was the problem and not her. She drew blanks as she tried to think who it was.

She hoped it was Eddie, but that felt like throwing wishes in an empty fountain. She was nowhere Eddie's type. She wasn't edgy enough or listened to the same music he did. She barely understood Hellfire and his ideas. He wasn't much of her type either, but there was something about him that she would never find anywhere else. He was one of a kind and she figured that's why she fell for him so hard.

Eddie never made moves, so she figured he didn't like her. That's why she had no problem going out with Greg. She thought maybe if Eddie showed jealousy, she'd have her answer. But he was just the same, nothing changed.

She was staring at the wall as Eddie woke up from his sleep. His tired eyes took her in. He had his arms around her already, he pressed his chest against her back tighter. She felt her body get warm as his arms squeezed her against him and his face snuggled into her neck. The soft breaths of his nose hitting her skin, his warm body against hers. Do all best friends cuddle in the same bed?

"How long have you been awake?" His deep and tired voice made her bite her lip. She wiggled in his arms, he loosened them as she turned around to face him. She kept herself in his arms, snuggling closer until she was nose to nose-with him.

"I never fell asleep," she whispered

The moon shined into the room, reminding her she had been trying to sleep for hours.

"How come?" He asked, his palm flat against her back as he softly rubbed the bare skin as her tank top slid up. She shivered as his hands touched her skin.

"A lot on my mind," she said truthfully. She admired his eyes. No matter how many times she looked into them, the brown continued to take her breath away. She took in the rest of his face. The bridge of his nose, the red lips she craved to taste. The slight hair growing above his lip, she knew he'd shave in the morning, but she loved being the only one who got to see it. His frizzy hair spread out on her pillows.

"Greg?" Eddie asked, admiring her face the same way she was with his.

"No," Y/N said, "about who that guy is Dustin brought up." She nervously bit her lip as she watched Eddie's reaction.

"Oh, how come?" Eddie asked, he hid his nervousness with a yawn

"Do you know who it is?"

"Uh no," Eddie said his eyes looking elsewhere

"Then why are you looking away?" Y/N smiled, she poked his cheek

He nervously laughed

"I don't know who he is," Eddie said, looking into her eyes as he finished the sentence.

"Such a bad liar! tell me," she squealed excitedly. He groaned as she left his arms. Sitting up, she looked down at him.

"Why do you want to know so bad? Are you ready to move on?" Eddie asked, maybe this was an opening.

"I don't know. Feels nice to know someone else likes me. And depending on who it is, I think I'm ready to give it a shot." She shrugged

"I can't say who it is, but I'll give you some hints." Y/N smiled as Eddie sat up.

"He has dark hair and dark eyes, he admires your beauty. He likes how smart and creative you are. He loves it when you laugh, it makes his heart race. He smiles whenever he thinks of you. And he's been dealing with these feelings for years." Eddie said, too lost in his confession that he was scared he gave too much away.

"So you are close friends with him?" Y/N asked, she turned her head in confusion. She would not believe that any of Eddie's friends had a crush on her.

"I think I said too much," Eddie chuckled nervously and laid back down. His head hit the pillow and he closed his eyes. "Let's go back to sleep."

Y/N thought in silence for a few seconds. She thought long and hard about what he said. The guy he described matched his appearance. Eddie always complimented her looks and laughed at all her jokes. He seemed nervous to talk about the guy, scared he said too much, which meant he was worried she would find it out. He dragged Dustin away when he brought it up, which told her he was worried Dustin would spill the beans.

"Y/N?" Eddie asked, cracking open one eye

It was Eddie

Eddie had a crush on her!

"Y/N" Eddie said again, both eyes open as he went to sit up

But Y/N pushed his body right back down as her lips smashed on his. Eddie's eyes widened in shock as her lips moved against his. Her hands were on his shoulders as she leaned down.

After his shock, he kissed her back. His hands reached up and held her hips. Their kiss grew deeper as Y/N straddled his lap. He sat up, lips still attached to hers. He moved on hand up to her head and pushed her head further into the kiss.

Y/N felt every part of her body light up with electricity. Her hands moved into his hair. Something she spent years wanting to do. His lips tasted better than she imagined. He was soft but controlling. It made her head spin.

Eddie pulled away, his eyes heavy in lust.

"That was...wow." Eddie breathed out, he blinked a thousand times. Believing if he blinked hard enough, this moment would vanish. But to his luck and prayers, she was still on his lap.

"You are the friend," she said, breathy as she still waited for air to return to her lungs

"Uh yeah," Eddie nodded

"Thank god," she smiled before her lips smashed into his again.

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlx @ineedmentalhelp123

[tigertales9]

Anticipation II

Pairing: Joe Burrow x Reader

Warnings: 18+ / Smut

Description: This is a follow-up to Anticipation

Time/Place: May 17, 2024 - Cincinnati, Ohio

A/N: In this fic, Joe & Reader are engaged & living together in a LTR.

Inspo pic:

Friday, May 17, 2024 - Cincinnati, Ohio

You take a sip of your watermelon mojito mocktail as you enter your large, walk-in closet, smacking your lips in appreciation before setting the frosty glass on a coaster on top of your lingerie chest.

"That's delish," you murmur, getting some music going before turning your attention to the task at hand … picking out a dress to wear to the club during Kayla's bachelorette party next Saturday (a week from tomorrow).

You take your time scouring through your extensive wardrobe, pulling out every pink dress you own before either dismissing it or setting it aside for further consideration, singing along to your music and sipping your tasty drink as you really lean into the vibe.

About fifteen minutes later, you've pulled three dresses out and decide that's enough to start with; you turn your attention to your shoe collection, selecting a pair of blush-pink peep-toe stilettos that you've only worn a couple of times. You open the shoebox and pull out one sleek shoe, flipping it over and using the spike heel as a microphone as you sing along to the sultry song blaring out of your speakers.

I could fuck him in the rain I could fuck him in the Range I could fuck him every day I'ma fuck him 'til he sing

You catch some movement in your peripheral vision and turn your head toward it, a blood-curdling scream escaping your lips at the sight of a large man looming in the doorway of the closet. You throw the shoe you're holding at the menacing intruder, your fear morphing into agitation when you realize it's your fiancé.

Joe quickly ducks, and the shoe flies over his head. "What the fuck, Joseph!" you yell, dropping to your knees as you try to catch your breath. "You almost gave me a heart attack," you wheeze, reaching a hand up and pressing a button that cuts Doja Cat off mid-lyric.

"Sorry," he mutters, his voice sounding more amused than apologetic. You give him an annoyed glare which he doesn't even see because he's retrieving the shoe you whipped at his head. "I didn't mean to scare you," he continues, closing the distance between you and holding the shoe out like a peace offering. You double-down on the annoyed glare as you snatch the shoe out of his hand, mumbling under your breath as you place it back in the shoebox.

A minute of silence passes before he speaks up again. "It's a good thing I have cat-like reflexes. That stiletto heel could put an eye out."

"You wouldn't have to worry about that if you didn't sneak up on me!" you snap, standing up and narrowing your eyes at his amused look. "Also," you mutter, grabbing your drink and taking a sip before continuing. "Keep gloating about scaring me and see how that works out for you. Hope your 'cat-like reflexes' can get you off tonight because I'm sure as hell not."

"Wait, what?" he asks, his expression quickly going from amused to alarmed. "You're gonna hold out on me because I accidentally startled you?"

"No, I'm gonna hold out on you because you're being a dick about it."

"How am I being a dick?" he asks, stepping forward and reaching his arms out to hug you.

"Stop!" you chirp, swatting one of his impressive biceps before shaking your hand. "Ouch," you mutter. "It's like hitting a brick wall."

"Well, maybe don't hit your man," he purrs, grabbing your wrist and bringing your hand up to his lips, planting a kiss on your palm while holding eye contact with you.

"Oh, stop it," you grumble, trying not to grin as you pull your hand away, shaking your head at the way your body instantly reacted to the panty-dropping look on his face and the feel of his plump lips pressed against your palm.

"Stop what?" he asks.

"You know what," you mumble, taking another gulp of your drink as he watches you closely.

"What's that drink?" he asks.

"Watermelon mojito," you answer, handing him the half-full glass.

He takes a small sip, making an appreciative noise before taking a bigger sip. "This is really good," he enthuses, tilting his head back as he guzzles the rest of the drink, his bobbing Adam's apple drawing your gaze as he takes deep gulps of the icy beverage. Sexy motherfucker, you think to yourself, chewing on your lip as he finishes the drink. "Have we had this before?" he asks.

"No." You take the empty glass from him and set it down. "Kayla asked all of her bridesmaids to pick a pink cocktail. We're gonna have a taste test during the bachelorette party, and whichever cocktail wins will be served at her wedding reception."

"Cool," he nods, pointing at the empty glass before continuing. "That was seriously delish but maybe a little weak? Like, I didn't taste any alcohol?"

"That's because it's a mocktail. It needs a shot of rum to finish it off."

"Friday night is not mocktail night," he teases.

"And it's not Friday night yet," you counter, checking the time while shaking your head. "It's just late afternoon. You're home an hour and a half earlier than expected. You know I very rarely day drink unless it's a brunch situation."

"True," he grins. "Coach decided to let us go a little early today since practice has been going great."

"That's good," you return his grin, feeling slightly less agitated now that your pulse rate has returned to normal. "There's a pitcher of that drink in the fridge. You can add some rum if you want the full effect."

He gives you a nod while pointing at the three dresses you've pulled out. "New dresses?" he asks, reaching a long arm out to feel the slinky fabric of the dress closest to him.

"No, just dresses I haven't worn in a while. I need to pick one for the bachelorette party."

He makes a stank face before speaking. "I thought it was a pool party?"

"It is," you agree. "A pool party with a BBQ buffet set up on the patio. Then later that night, we're gonna get dressed up and go to a club to dance for a couple hours. Kayla's wearing a white dress, and she wants all of us in varying shades of pink."

"Oh yeah," he heaves a sigh while rolling his eyes. "I knew that, but I guess I blocked it out because I was busy worrying about the male strippers at the pool party."

"There won't be any strippers and you know it," you soothe.

"Riiiight, just scantily clad cocktail waiters," he snorts, emphasizing the 'cock' in cocktail in a way that makes you giggle.

"Don't be a hypocrite, Joseph," you scold, your voice playful but the look on your face 100% serious. "The bachelor week-end you went to in Scottsdale included going to a club that features scantily clad women."

"That wasn't my idea," he argues.

"And this wasn't my idea," you counter.

Y'all stare at each other for several seconds before he heaves another sigh and backs down, his body language telling you he's aggravated but he knows he's not gonna win this argument.

You slowly let out the breath you were holding and gesture toward the dresses. "I'll try these on tomorrow. I need to head downstairs and start dinner prep. You're probably starving."

"I'm good," he states. "I had a protein smoothie before I left the facility. Maybe we can just order something later."

"You don't want me to cook?"

He shakes his head no while pointing at the dresses. "I'd rather have a fashion show tonight. You can cook tomorrow night, okay?"

"Okay," you murmur, watching as he strips his t-shirt off before dropping it in the hamper, your eyes going wide at the sight of the tight black compression shirt he had on under his loose t-shirt.

You bite your lip as you take in his broad shoulders, muscular arms and chiseled torso set off nicely by the clingy fabric. "Nice shirt," you purr, giving him a wink when you finally meet his eyes again.

"You said I look sexy in it, so I'm gonna be wearing it around the house 24/7 now. Let me know if you get tired of it."

"I'll never get tired of it," you giggle, watching as he exits the bathroom, your grin amping up as he pops his head back in before speaking.

"I'm gonna go make us a couple of drinks while you try on dress number one," he states, giving you a grin as he heads back out the door.

"Don't put too much rum in my drink!" you holler, rolling your eyes as you hear his evil laughter.

Ten minutes later, you finish shimmying into a tiny, raspberry-colored dress you have no intention of wearing to the club. "He's gonna freak when he sees this," you mutter under your breath, boosting your breasts up in the balconette top before slipping your feet into your stiletto heels. You take a deep breath and walk out of your closet, through your bathroom, and into your bedroom, smiling at Joe as you approach where he's sitting on the bed, your gaze taking in his black compression shirt, slinky black shorts and bare feet.

"Oh hell no," he grits out, shaking his head vigorously as you do a little sashay. "Are you fucking serious?" he continues, his eyes glued to your chest as you make 'em bounce. "You're not going to the club looking like Tits McGee!"

"Tits McGee?" you chortle, doing another shimmy while his mouth drops open.

"Yes!" he snaps. "90 percent of your tits are hanging out!"

You look down at your chest before recapturing his gaze. "More like 70 percent."

"Well that's 50 percent too much!" he argues, his eyebrows heading for his hairline as you bust out laughing. "What's so funny?" he asks.

"I'm just teasing you," you giggle. "I wore this dress for our Valentine's Day date night here at home. I'd never wear it around anyone but you."

He narrows his eyes at you as he takes a sip of his pink cocktail. "You're just trying to rile me up, huh?"

"Maybe," you shrug, walking to the bedside table to grab the cocktail he mixed for you; you take a sip, pleasantly surprised that he added just the right amount of rum instead of loading it up. "This is really good," you smile at him before taking another sip. "You added the perfect amount of rum."

"Don't try to butter me up," he grumbles.

"I'm just telling the truth," you chuckle, setting the drink back on the coaster before heading toward the bathroom door. "I'll go put on another dress."

"Hold up," he orders, his gaze settling on your chest when you turn to face him; he makes a gesture toward you before continuing. "All of that boobage on display made me think of something."

"What?"

"What are you wearing for the pool party?" he asks.

"A bikini."

"Oh … great," he grumps. "Let's see that next."

"Sure," you grin, hurrying back into your closet and digging around in the bottom drawer of your lingerie chest for a ridic string bikini before prancing back out.

"Sooo, this is keeping with the pink theme," you state blandly, twirling the minuscule cotton-candy pink bikini between your hands as he looks on in horror.

"Ain't no way," he hisses, taking another gulp of his fruity cocktail while shaking his head at you in absolute disgust.

"You don't like it?" you ask.

"Oh, I fucking love it," he sneers. "Most of your tits, most of your ass, and half of your pussy hangs out of it since it's so tiny."

"So I look great in it, right?"

He takes a couple of deep breaths before answering. "You look amazing in it, but if you wear it, I'll be forced to infiltrate the pool party and beat the dogshit out of the cocktail waiters who will be drooling all over you."

"You're so cute when you're jealous," you giggle. "I'd never wear it around anyone but you," you continue, tossing the flimsy bikini aside and stepping in between his spread thighs, dropping kisses all over his face while he mutters under his breath.

"It's not funny," he mumbles, lowering his head, his shoulders slumping and his body language giving off bad vibes.

"I'm … sorry," you state. "I was just teasing to get you back for that jump scare you gave me earlier."

He continues to look at his feet until you place a finger under his chin and gently lift his head up. "Are you okay?" you ask.

"Yeah," he mutters. "I'm just being an insecure baby."

"You have no reason to be insecure. I shouldn't have teased you like that. You're my dream man. You know that, right?"

"I'm …" he runs a hand through his hair and shrugs his broad shoulders before plowing ahead. "I'm just feeling … impotent lately."

"Impotent?" you echo, your tone thick with disbelief. "We've been having some of the hottest sex of our entire relationship the last couple of months."

He takes a deep breath before meeting your gaze. "I don't mean sexually … more like … athletically."

"I thought everything was going great with the wrist rehab?"

"It is, but everyone is gonna keep second-guessing me until I'm able to prove it in a game situation."

"Some folks entire agenda is second-guessing you. You have to block out the negativity," you soothe, brushing his bangs aside to press kisses on his forehead. "You're ahead of schedule on the wrist rehab, and you've added enough muscle to legit look like a Greek God. You have nothing to feel insecure about."

"I guess you're right," he concedes, giving you a tight smile. "But the fact remains that I'm feeling more than a little jealous about the bachelorette party. I don't love the idea of random men eye-fucking you while you're wearing a bikini and a sexy cocktail dress."

"Poor baby," you coo, leaning down to gently nip his pouty bottom lip. "There will be plenty of other women in bikinis and cocktail dresses. Plus all of us have partners, so it's not like anyone will be trying to pull. We're going to the club to dance with each other not random men, okay?"

He wrinkles his perfect nose, and you press a kiss on it before continuing. "Listen … random women and men stay eye-fucking you literally everywhere you go, and I take it in stride 'cause that's what happens when you're engaged to a baddie. Pretty sure you can suck it up for one measly night, yeah?"

"Yeah," he grumbles, "but I don't have to like it."

"That's the spirit," you chuckle, spinning around and heading for the bathroom. "Dress number two is up next," you chirp, throwing him a grin over your shoulder as you leave the room.

You wiggle out of the dress you're wearing and step into another dress, fastening the halter neck, your eyes going wide when you hear Joe's irate voice coming from the bedroom.

"What the fuck is this?" he snaps, giving you a look as you hurry into the room.

You roll your eyes as you see him standing in front of the dresser, holding up the lingerie you got for Kayla.

"That was in a gift bag for a reason, Mr. Nosy," you scold, shaking your head as you walk toward him. "That's for Kayla," you continue. "We all got her some lingerie. We actually wrote trashy or classy on several scraps of paper, folded them up, then took turns drawing them out of a hat."

"Cool," he mumbles, taking another long look at the skimpy pink teddy before handing it to you. "What did you draw?"

"Ummm, trashy, obvi," you giggle.

"What even is it?" he asks, tilting his head sideways and squinting a bit as you hold it up in front of you.

"It's an open cup teddy with an easy-access slit in the crotch."

"Oh," he mutters, chewing on his bottom lip and watching closely as you put the flimsy scrap of lace back in the gift bag and replace the tissue paper he dislodged while rooting around.

"I got her the matching fishnet thigh highs, as well." You throw him a dirty wink while fluffing the shimmery pink tissue paper to your liking. "You didn't dig quite deep enough into the bag to see those, but believe me, they're trashy as fuck."

"I can imagine," he mutters, raking a hand through his tousled hair while shifting his weight from one foot to the other; he eventually turns his attention to the dress you're wearing. "I love that dress," he states, giving you a whistle when you do a slow turn for him. "Sexy but classy," he admires. "Nice hint of cleavage, but not …"

"Tits McGee?" you giggle, looking down at the keyhole neckline of the halter dress.

"Exactly," he grins. "You def need to save all the Tits McGee fits just for me."

"Yes, sir."

He gives you a loaded look before pointing at the gift bag. "Speaking of tits … I'd love to see you in something like that."

"You've seen me in a ton of lingerie," you giggle, purposely missing his point.

"Yeah, but nothing quite that …"

"Trashy?" you finish for him, grinning when a hot blush rises in his cheeks. After the crazy amount of naughty things you've done to each other over the last few years, it always gives you a thrill to know you still have that kind of power over him. "You think I'd look good in it?" you ask, batting your eyelashes at him.

He clears his throat before answering. "You'd look amazing in it," he mutters, dropping his head for a few seconds before peeking at you through his messy bangs.

"You're really working those bangs," you giggle, swatting his plump ass and pointing at the bed. "Sit back down," you order. "I have one more dress to show you."

You hurry into your closet and shut the door, quickly removing the dress you're wearing and hanging it up before opening a drawer on your lingerie chest, a naughty grin gracing your lips as you pull out the same lace teddy you bought for Kayla, the only difference is yours is purple instead of pink.

You wiggle into the porny teddy, making sure your boobs are sitting just right in the open cups before sliding on the fishnet thigh highs; you check your reflection in the mirror hanging on the closet door. "Trashy as fuuuck," you whisper, your pulse picking up as you shrug into a pink silk shorty robe, quickly tying the belt before breezing back into the bedroom.

Joe raises his eyebrows as you walk toward him. "That … looks like a robe?"

"Yep," you agree, reaching down and pulling the hem up just enough to show off the top of one thigh high. "What else does it look like?"

"Like purple fishnet thigh highs," he groans, licking his lips as he meets your bemused gaze. "You've teased me one too many times tonight," he states, "so you damn well better be wearing that trashy teddy under the robe."

You give him a dirty grin as you slowly untie the slinky belt, waiting a few seconds before shrugging the robe off and tossing it aside.

"Damn," he breathes, his hot gaze running all over you before he finally settles on your bare breasts. "Just … wow," he mutters, holding a hand out toward you. "Come here."

"Get naked first," you order.

"Yes, ma'am," he purrs, shucking off his shirt, shorts and undies in record time before standing up. "Hold on a sec," he says, hurrying to grab the oversized, full-length mirror that y'all have leaning against the wall just to the right of your dresser; he easily picks up the heavy mirror and walks back toward you, giving you a wink before leaning it against the wall just opposite the side of the bed he's about to sit on. "Okay, I'm ready," he states, plopping back down on the bed and doing his usual manspread as you step between his thick thighs.

"I forgot to put on high heels," you sigh, watching in fascination as his cock goes from semi-hard to fully erect as he runs his hands all over you, his gaze capturing yours as he sucks a hard nipple into his mouth, swirling his hot tongue around it several times before gently tugging it between his teeth. You whimper at the delicious feel of his mouth and hands on you, the look in his steel-blue eyes as he pulls off one nipple and moves toward the other causing your pulse to skyrocket. "You don't need heels," he states, treating your other nipple to the same attention as you press your thighs together, your core throbbing hard with every heartbeat as he continues his sensual assault on your breasts.

After a few more minutes, he spins you around and pulls you down on his lap -- your back to his chest -- spreading your legs wide and draping them over his thighs as his lips immediately settle on your shoulder; you watch in the mirror as he kisses his way up to that sensitive spot behind your ear, his erection hot and hard against your ass as he cups his hands over your breasts.

"I'm so turned on it hurts," you whine, your core clenching as he continues to tease your nipples, alternating delicate touches with harder pinches in a way that causes a flood of wetness between your thighs. He watches you in the mirror as you squirm in his lap, his eyes dark with arousal as he slowly lowers one hand down to cup your lace-clad crotch. "You want me to finish you fast?" he asks, both of you groaning when he slips his fingers inside the easy-access teddy to play with your slick folds. "No," you breathe, biting your lip as he slides a long finger inside you. "I want you to edge me."

"Good girl," he growls, continuing to tease you as you wiggle against him. "This teddy is super sexy," he murmurs, "but can we lose it? I wanna see all of you."

"Okay," you agree, your head spinning when he wraps his hands around your waist and sets you on your feet, helping you shimmy out of the teddy before pulling you back on his lap. "You want me to leave the thigh highs on?" you ask. "Fuck yeah," he groans, spreading your legs wide again, his gaze drawn to your bare crotch as he plays with your most sensitive flesh, both of you watching in the mirror as his agile fingers expertly work you, strategically avoiding your clit to prolong your pleasure.

"Does it feel good, baby?" he eventually asks, his breath hot in your ear as he continues to tease you, one hand moving back and forth between your nipples and the other playing with your pussy. "Sooo good," you whine, gasping when he flicks his thumb across your super sensitive clit. "I'm close!" you whimper. "I know," he soothes, removing his hands and letting you ease back from the brink.

He drops wet kisses against your neck as you pant for breath. "I want you to cum on my tongue," he states, "are you ready for that?"

"Yes, sir," you groan, yelping when he wraps his hands around your waist and tugs you backwards as he lays flat on his back on the bed; you scramble to get your knees under you as he pulls your crotch over his face. "69, huh?" you giggle, leaning forward to press a kiss on his hard cock, your eyes going wide as you catch sight of yourself in the mirror. "You should see the view I have," you purr, watching in the mirror as you run your tongue up and down his hard length to get him wet before taking him deep. "No way it's as hot as the view I have," he groans, flattening his tongue against your bare flesh and licking a long, slow stripe the length of your slit several times before using his thumbs to spread you open; he gives you another couple of shallow licks before burying the velvety length of his tongue deep inside you, making a primal sound low in his throat at the high-pitched whine you let out when he starts tongue-fucking you.

You last about five more minutes before you have a legit screaming orgasm, your eyes losing focus and your entire body trembling as the waves of pleasure roll through you.

Joe eventually rolls you onto your back and spins you around until you're face to face. "Let me finish you," you pant, sitting up and reaching a hand out toward his glistening erection as he gently presses you back on the bed; he crawls off the bed and stands up to his impressive height, watching you closely as he leans down and sucks your bottom lip between his teeth, giving it a nip and a lick before slowly rolling you over onto your stomach. He nestles his lips against your ear before speaking. "I wanna cum in your tight little cunt," he growls, wrapping an arm under your waist and lifting you up onto your knees as he steps forward until his shins bump against the mattress; he quickly positions himself between your spread thighs before using his free hand to line his cock up with your entrance. "You ready?" he asks. "Yes," you breathe, arching your back as he sinks his erection in you to the hilt.

Several heartbeats pass before he finally starts thrusting; you press your forehead against the mattress and angle your hips up into his thrusts in a way that has both of you groaning, fisting your hands in the sheets to use them as leverage as you fuck back against him. He continues to ride you hard for several minutes before sliding a hand down to play with your clit. "Can you cum for me again?" he asks, drawing lazy circles around your clit before pressing it hard, a moan escaping his lips as you come apart underneath him, your cries of pleasure muffled against the mattress as he unloads inside you.

He eventually collapses down on the bed beside you, rolling over onto his back and staring at the ceiling while he pants for breath; you roll over onto your back and turn your head to look at him, both of you laughing at how fucked out you look.

"You need to delete the word 'impotent' from your vocabulary," you giggle, giving a happy sigh as he pulls you close and nestles his nose into the nape of your neck.

Fifteen minutes later, you feel nature call, and you give a deep sigh before speaking. "I gotta pee," you admit. "Me too," he chuckles, helping you up and ushering you toward the bathroom. "Ladies first," he states, turning the bathroom light on and quickly lifting the toilet lid before you inelegantly plop down. "Thanks," you mutter, grabbing a wad of toilet paper and raising an eyebrow as he continues to stand in the doorway watching you. "I'm hurrying," you chuckle, finishing your pee and giving yourself a quick wipe before starting to stand up.

"Wait," he urges, stepping forward and pressing both hands on your shoulders to hold you down on the toilet.

"Uhhh, why?" you ask, your eyes going wide as he takes his dick in his hand.

"Spread your legs," he orders.

"Don't you dare pee on me," you breathe, spreading your legs as he unleashes a stream of pee.

"Just relax and be still," he purrs, his sensual lips curling into a naughty grin. "Those thigh highs are super sexy," he groans.

"Quit looking at my thigh highs!" you chirp. "Pay attention to where you're aiming!"

He flicks his gaze up to your eyes for a sec before looking back down. "I've got the best accuracy stats in the league," he boasts.

"At throwing footballs," you mutter, "not pissing between my legs."

He gives you a wicked smirk as he tears off a square of toilet paper and dabs his dick, dropping the toilet paper between your legs before wrapping both hands around your waist and pulling you to your feet. He lowers the toilet lid and hits the flush lever, smiling down into your upturned face as you shake your head at him.

"That seemed dangerously close to peeing on me to mark your territory," you state.

"But I didn't actually pee on you," he argues.

"True," you concede. "But it was damn close." You give him a look before walking out of the toilet enclosure with him close behind; you stop abruptly and spin around to face him. "Just admit it was a territorial display," you goad, smirking when he narrows his eyes at you.

"Maybe a little," he admits, grinning as he rakes a hand through his hair while you gloat at his admission.

"What's next?" you tease. "You wanna spit in my mouth?"

His facial expression immediately morphs from playful to primal, his voice dropping an octave as he answers you. "Yeah. Open wide."

You raise an eyebrow at his demeanor; you're pretty sure he's kidding, so you decide to call his bluff. "Okay," you purr, making a show of slowly licking your lips before sticking your tongue out. He immediately gathers some spit in his mouth and hits your tongue dead center with it, quickly dropping his head down and sucking your tongue into his mouth as he cups his hands under your ass and lifts you up.

Two long strides later, he's got your back pressed against the wall; you're always a little amazed at how strong he is, at how easily he picks you up and manhandles you into naughty positions.

You wrap your legs around his waist, gasping when the plump head of his cock slips just inside your slick entrance. He's already made you cum twice, and yet you're still desperate to have him inside you. I'll never get enough of this man, you think to yourself, digging your fingers into his broad shoulders as he leans down and nuzzles his lips against your neck, his hot breath tickling your ear as he tells you how good you feel as he slowly buries his hard cock inside you.

You lose yourself in the feel of him stretching you open, whimpering his name as his hips pick up speed, his cock surging up into you in a way that takes your breath away.

He fucks you against the wall for several minutes before snaking his free hand in between your sweat-slick bodies, pinching your clit with the perfect pressure to set you off as he continues to pound into you; you fist a hand in his hair and whimper his name as your climax hits, your core clamping down hard on his thrusting cock, coaxing him toward the edge until he follows you over, your body continuing to rhythmically squeeze him until you milk him dry.

~ ~ ~

Thirty minutes later -- after a shared shower -- y'all are lounging in bed waiting for your food delivery to arrive.

"You know what I'm thinking?" Joe asks, giving you a grin before continuing. "I'm thinking you should make me jealous more often."

"Why?" you ask.

"Because the sex is crazy hot when I'm trying to prove I'm worthy."

"The sex is always crazy hot," you counter.

He gives you a loaded look before responding. "But it's hotter when I'm working harder for it, yeah? And I really like working harder for it."

"Maybe," you shrug, your eyes going wide as he pulls you against him, his frustrated groan making you giggle as the doorbell rings.

[loonylesbian]

ok i am very much so not a writer, or at least not creatively. but i had this idea and i couldn’t get it out of my head so i decided to write it out. it ended up being 6.1k words so feel free to not finish it cause i’m sure it’s not good. however if you do read the entire thing i hope you like it and don’t clown on me too hard. long story short either you’re welcome for this or i’m sorry for this. there is no inbetween

naked in manhattan // k. martin

10 years ago

“Kate can you believe it! We’re starting high school!!!” you scream, hugging your best friend on the last day of summer. If you were being totally honest, you were nervous never being good at making friends, always relying on Kate for that. Her being so outgoing and friendly, it’s not that you weren’t nice, you really were, if anyone asked Kate would say that you’re the sweetest person she’s ever met, you were just shy. Talking to just about anyone made you nervous, in fact, you had a short list of people who didn’t make you nervous.

“I know! It’s gonna be great, I’m gonna do my best in basketball and volleyball, and you, my little genius, are gonna be the best in every class, and make tons of new friends,” she reassured you as if she could feel the nerves radiating off of you in waves. You were grateful for that, she had always been able to know exactly what you were feeling and how to help, even if you didn’t. It was one of your favorite things about her, sure there were too many things you loved about her to count, but that was one of your absolute favorites.

“I promise I’m gonna do my best to make it to each and every single game of yours,” you told her holding up your pinky while looking up at her, she giggled and interlocked her pinky with yours in a pinky promise, something you have insisted on doing since you met. You swore that it was more real than a regular promise, and made it to where the universe let the promise happen, not just the people involved.

“Well if it’s a pinky promise, I know you're never gonna miss a game,” she replied with a smile reserved just for you.

7 years ago

So far your promise had held, not without some struggle, but you had still attended every game Kate had for both sports she played, and just about every other game she just wanted to watch. There were a few games where you were late because of your job, studying, or other things that had gotten in the way, and the two times where you sat as far away from everyone else as humanly possible because you didn’t want to get them sick but also didn’t want to miss Kate’s game, but for the most part you sat right at the front to cheer on your best friend.

After the game tonight you guys were gonna have a sleepover as tradition for Friday night games, whether it resulted in a win or a loss. Either way, you usually ended up in her arms bringing her comfort, whether that be her knowing that she deserves it because she played well and won to bring her down from that high or wishing she had done things differently to change that loss and you reassuring her that it wasn’t all her fault, because as far as your were concerned basketball was a team sport and a loss couldn’t hang solely on one person's shoulders. After all, you were her number one supporter, never failing to let her know how proud of her you are and how much you love her no matter how she feels. You made everything feel okay for her, but it was the least you could do, afterall she did that and more for you.

when i sing that lana song it makes you cry

On the drive back to her house listening to the radio, she couldn’t help but look at you as much as she could without crashing the car. She couldn't help but feeling like she was was really listening to the song for the first time as you were singing along to “Young and Beautiful” by Lana Del Ray. She didn’t quite know what it was but when she looked at you and listened to you singing she couldn't help but feel her heart race and her body flush, she swore she could listen to you forever. Had someone told her in that moment she would never get to hear you sing like that, she would swear she’d cry And if anyone asked, she would tell them she liked girls, it wasn’t like it was a secret, and she’s had crushes before, she knows what it feels like. But she never thought she would have a crush on you, purely because you were her best friend, she couldn’t do that, it could ruin your friendship. That wasn't something she was willing, or at least wanted, to risk. A friendship that you've had since kindergarten, although now that she thought about it, it was basically a lesbian right of passage to fall in love with your best friend and-

mean girls we watch every night, and we both have a crush on regina george

“So wanna watch Mean Girls?” you ask abruptly interrupting her thoughts. Truth be told she’s glad that you did, it was probably best that she didn’t dwell on those thoughts for too long. Little did she know she wasn’t the only one who wasn’t having completely friendly thoughts about the other. She was just the only one who wasn’t in total denial about liking girls in the first place.

“Obviously. As if we would watch anything else first,” she replies with a scoff as if it were crazy for you to even ask. Although, to be fair it was crazy of you to ask because that was the first movie you watched anytime you had a sleepover, and it had been that way for years.

“Sorry. Sorry. I forgot you had a crush on Regina George,” you said with a small chuckle, brushing off the twinge of pain you felt at the idea of Kate having a crush on anyone else, even if it was a fictional character from a movie. Because why would you be sad or jealous about that? She was just your best friend, right?

Kate flushed even more red at this comment if that were possible with the combination of the game she had just played and watching you. Even though it was chilly outside and in the car, in that moment it felt like it was 100°. She wasn’t sure if it was nerves or joy that was causing her to feel that way, but she did. In that moment life was perfect, the chill in the air, the rain falling around the car they sat in, the now soft music coming from the speakers, and most importantly you. She wished she could stay in that moment forever, just taking you in, stuck in that perfect moment forever. She let out a slightly nervous chuckle, lightly biting her lip, before she replied, not wanting to break the peace she felt.

“Okay, okay, don’t act like you don’t have a crush on her too. I know you have a thing for blondes.” She finally lets out trying to wave you off and ignore her pounding heartbeat, all while trying to steal another glance at you. What she doesn’t notice, however, is your face flushing or your fists clenching when she says that as if she uncovered a deep dark secret, that you hadn’t told anybody. And to be fair that’s exactly how you felt, you did have a crush on this mean girl and you did have a thing for blondes, but you hadn’t quite come to terms with that yourself, let alone talk to anybody about it. So if anyone asked, the blondes you had a thing for were blonde guys, but you were hoping nobody would ask. Even if that person was Kate, your best friend.

And you didn’t notice her grip on the steering wheel tighten a little bit, waiting for a response. Hoping you would do or say anything to acknowledge what she had said, telling her she was right or wrong, waving her off altogether, laughing. She waited for any acknowledgment of what she had said for the rest of the ride home, but it never came. Instead, you changed the subject all together after sitting in silence for a few minutes. You hoped she didn’t notice that, but she did.

And so you followed your typical Friday night game routine, going to her house, watching Mean Girls, finding yourselves tangled up together but never acknowledging it, and then turning on some other random show or movie before falling asleep. Still in each other's arms. Still, just best friends.

6 years ago

Today was the day, the last full day before your crush best friend was leaving you. Ok well not you per se, but she was leaving. And yes you were also going to leave and go even farther in a few weeks, but that’s beside the point. It still felt like she was leaving you and it just didn’t feel right. You couldn’t exactly put into words how or why you felt so badly about it, but you did. Maybe the fact that you had never been apart for longer than a week played a part in it. Sure, you were both gonna go off and hopefully live your dreams, but it just didn’t feel right to do that away from each other. However, she was going to Iowa and you were going to New York and there's nothing you could do to change that now. And you did genuinely think about going to Iowa instead, but New York was your dream, so when you got into culinary school there you decided to go. You knew you loved it and you knew that New York was a great place to start, not to get started on the fact that it could take you literally anywhere you wanted to go. That didn’t make the decision any less painful though.

“I’m gonna miss you so much,” you whispered in Kate’s ear giving her a hug. You honestly don’t know why you’re saying it right now, it’s not like she's leaving right this second, but you still need to say it, and you’ll probably say it about 1,000 more times before you actually have to say goodbye in the morning after your final Friday night sleepover, even if it didn’t follow a game you guys have grown into the habit of doing this almost every Friday night. She squeezes you tighter if possible when she hears this, trying to burn that moment into her memory, knowing she loves you but it’s too late to do anything about it now, at least not anything serious. It wouldn’t be fair to either of you, to admit her feelings for you after years of friendship less than 24 hours before you guys go to different states for college. It would be cruel, and she told herself it would almost be more cruel if you felt the same way about her. She knew that you came to terms with being queer, at least enough to admit it to her and yourself, what she didn’t know is that a big part of that was you coming to terms with being in love with her. But still, it was too late and she had to let that be.

“I’m gonna miss you too,” Kate said with a big sigh before releasing you, muttering a quick “more than you could know,” under her breath, hoping you didn’t hear. Happy when you showed no indication of hearing the last part.

“But we still have a whole afternoon/night to do all of our favorite things together before I leave. And we can go get our favorite breakfast in the morning,” she said with a more upbeat tone, poking your sides slightly, trying to lighten your spirits too. Slightly succeeding when she saw you perk up a little, putting a small smile on her face.

“Okay, okay, so what do you say to popcorn, Mean Girls, and a bunch of candy?” you asked, slightly mimicking her accent. She replies with an eager nod. Grabbing your hand and pulling you to her room after making a pit stop for the snacks, failing to notice the blush that covered your cheeks. You simply follow her rushed pace, happy you decided to wear sweats and a tank top, as opposed to something like jeans to lounge around in.

By the time you were about halfway through the movie, you found yourself wrapped in her arms, like usual. But for some reason not knowing when you’ll see her again after this, and the cheesy high school coming-of-age movie in the background made you a little more confident. Not super confident to where you would outright tell Kate that you’re in love with her, but confident enough to try and hint at something, which is more than you’d ever been willing to do with anyone else. So that’s what you do. Especially after spending years denying your feelings, and almost a whole extra year hiding them.

“You know what sucks,” you start off looking up at her waiting for any kind of acknowledgment. She finally looks down at you with a light “Hmm?”

“I’m about to go to college and I haven’t even had my first kiss,” you say unable to stop your eyes from glancing down to her lips. This statement took her off guard, sure, you had never talked about anyone, guys or girls, but you’re you and she figured you had your first kiss and in your typical shy fashion, you just hadn't wanted to bring it up.

“What? No way!” she says laughing a little only realizing her mistake when she saw your face drop.

“No no no, I didn’t mean it like that. I just don’t get how you of all people haven’t had your first kiss yet!” she exclaims “I mean you’re literally perfect, you’re beautiful, you’re smart, you’re funny, you’re a great cook, I mean you're my favorite person in the world. I just don’t get how no one’s kissed you yet!” she finished off her little rant with a small huff.

“Well no one’s wanted to,” you mumble looking down a little bit, feeling embarrassed all of a sudden.

“That’s not true,” she mumbles quieter now than she had been before, suddenly feeling almost as shy as you while taking you off guard. It was pretty obvious what she meant, no hidden meaning laced in with her words, unable to pick her gaze back up to your eyes once they dropped down to your lips.

“I mean would you?” you question with a little more confidence once you notice where she's looking. You can’t help but follow her lead and look down to her lips, before going back up to her eyes, even though she still wasn’t looking.

touch me baby, put your lips on mine

“It doesn’t have to be weird or anything, it's just you’re my best friend, and I’ve never kissed anyone, and you’re leaving tomorrow and I don’t want to go to college without at least having my first kiss,” you kind of spit out hoping you don’t sound pathetic or desperate, or make her want to kick you out.

“Would you want me to?” she questions back, already knowing your answer but just wanting to ask to know that you were sure.

“Yeah, I’d like that” You rush out in a kind of whisper to her nodding, so she nods back to you. You can both tell that you’re nervous, each for different reasons. All it takes for you to start leaning into each other is locking your eyes again. In that moment she looks like an angel, with the soft glow of the lamp making her hair look even more golden than usual, to the way she was looking at you, not to mention how you felt about the grip she had on you. You barely even had time to actually look at her before her lips crashed onto yours. And that’s exactly what it felt like in that moment, like waves crashing onto cliffs, a completely overwhelming feeling, yet still, it brought you a newfound sense of peace. She pulled you as close to her as possible, knowing that this may be the only time you get to do this, not wanting to be even an inch away from you. At this point you were basically straddling her while she was leaning up against her headboard, both wanting nothing more than to be together, knowing you couldn’t.

You had never kissed anyone before but thought to yourself that in that moment that if this is what it is like you never wanted to stop. Kate had kissed people before, and you knew that, but what you didn’t know was that none of those felt anything like with you. They couldn’t compare. Not by a long shot. If she didn’t know how much she loved you before, she definitely knew now. The only issue is that she knows this, it’s gonna make it even harder to leave you in the morning.

By the time you guys pull away breathless from a mixture of kissing, nerves, and giddiness, you can’t help but feel at peace, resting your foreheads against each other’s. Sure you knew that nothing could come of this, that nothing would come of this, at least not right now. But you were happy. Happy that you got to show her how much you love her in one small way, one new way. Happy that you got to know her, and happy that she felt the same way about you. Even if you guys didn’t necessarily talk about it, or say outright say it, you both knew that was always one of the best things about your friendship, you didn’t have to actually talk in order to communicate and get your point across, and even when you did need words you didn’t need many of them.

So when you guys make eye contact again you come to a silent agreement, you have that night, and the next morning to talk if you want. You know you love each other, but also that there's realistically nothing you can do for you to start a relationship at that moment and have it work out. Not when you were about to be nearly 1,000 miles apart. It wasn’t right to risk it. And you both know that you’re too important to each other to risk your friendship, especially when almost all of the circumstances are pointing to it not working out. So, you have that night, after that, you’re friends again, maybe not even best friends, and if it works out you can be together in the future when you can be closer. But for the time being this is for the best, this is safe.

April 2024 || Present Day

It had been years since you and Kate had last seen each other properly, there were brief passings when you were both in your hometown that resulted in short conversations, but you were both barely there, you less than her, and when you were your family made sure you never went longer than 20 minutes without them other than to let you sleep. You had stuck to being friends, not best friends, just friends. Never talking about that night, your last night together. Not wanting to risk it, not yet. Other than that, you guys have managed to text each other occasionally to check-in. Keeping each other updated on your lives, but not close. It was as if you had both come to the understanding that you should keep a certain level of distance so as not to ruin what you had. Knowing that if you talked more, you would’ve talked about what could have been more. And you just couldn’t risk it.

id love if you knew you were on my mind, constant like cicadas in the summertime

That’s not to say that you didn’t keep an eye on her and her basketball. You had been her #1 fan since day one, and even if you didn’t talk or see each other as much as you used to, you wouldn’t let that change. You still felt the exact same way when you thought about her, even if you tried not to. Even when you knew you shouldn’t. You just couldn’t stop thinking about her. While you obviously couldn’t go to all of her games anymore, you still watched every single one, even when you were at work during them you would try to either watch it on your phone or record it and watch it when you got home later. You even managed to take off work for both the Final Four and the Finals this year to watch her and her team, even if you didn’t make it in person, you still had to watch the games live. And once you heard that she had declared for the WNBA draft you had to get a ticket for that, it was perfect, it was in Brooklyn so you didn’t have to travel more than taking the subway. And this time you told yourself that you would talk to her, not go up to her at the draft but you would text her and let her know that you were gonna be there if she wanted to meet up after, or at any point while she was in town. You would make an effort to see her. You really didn’t know when the next time you’d get the chance to see her again would be, it’s been so long since the last time, partially due to schedule, partially due to nerves, and you were about to move across the country to Las Vegas for a new job. You figured it was now or never, and you really hoped you would get the chance to see her so you could get her out of your mind.

You knew you had to try. Try to talk to her, try to see her, try something. You couldn’t stand it anymore, constantly thinking about her, you needed closure, even if there wasn’t necessarily anything to get closure about. You still had to try. So even though you had grown up a lot in the past six years, you had learned to start a conversation instead of stuttering your way through when someone came up to you, gotten more friends, and most importantly gained confidence and figured out a pretty good idea of who you were. You were nowhere near as shy as you used to be, but still the mere idea of Kate brought back butterflies that made you feel like you were in high school again. Frankly, the feeling had to be classified as something stronger than butterflies. So obviously the idea of calling her went out the window for you, you figured she was so busy anyway that she probably wouldn't answer, and you told yourself that if she chose not to answer a text it would hurt less than not answering a call. And after a lot of thinking and rewriting, you finally sent her the text.

“Hey Kate, I heard you’re gonna be in town for the draft and I know you’re probably busy but I would love to see you. I just wanted to let you know that I’ve been keeping up with your games, I’m so proud of you, still your #1 fan, and can’t wait to see where you go. I’m gonna be at the draft rooting for you, just like I have been every step of the way even when I couldn’t physically be there. So if you wanna meet up after the draft or at any point while you’re in town let me know.”

Once you hit send you waited, and waited, and waited. Once it hit six hours with no response you figured you weren’t going to get one. Now that you had sent it, you realized that it was more nerve-wracking to sit and wait for the possibility of a response than to try and figure out what to say and hit send. Every possible reaction she could have had to your text was running through your head, well not every one, just every bad one. You didn’t know what she was thinking, or how she thought anymore, and that was terrifying to you. The nerves were so bad that to anyone watching you probably looked like a mess, flushed cheeks, sweaty, a little hunched over, and very clearly looking nauseous. But you were fine, it was no big deal.

You lied to yourself, it still hurt that you didn’t get an answer, but still decided to go to the draft anyway. Even if she didn’t want to see you, you still wanted to support her, figuring it was a big event and the chance of you seeing each other let alone talking were slim to none. You could go and didn’t have to talk if she didn’t want to. Plus you didn’t want to waste your money after you already bought the ticket and more than anything you wanted to support her, she was your first friend, your best friend, so far your most important friend, and now she's about to be a professional basketball player. You had to be there to see it come full circle, after spending the better part of ten years being able to count the number of her games you hadn’t seen on one hand, and saying you were her #1 fan, you just couldn’t miss it. Not for you, and certainly not for her.

By the time you had actually gotten to the draft and it started you were so focused on listening for Kate or her name, you couldn’t focus on anything else. You couldn’t hear anything that wasn’t related to her. You were confident that she was going to get drafted, but there was still a “what if” sitting in the back of your mind knowing your heart would break for her if she didn’t, maybe more than hers. Then you heard it, “With the 18th pick in the 2024 WNBA Draft, The Las Vegas Aces select Kate Martin, University of Iowa.” you were so focused on her getting on a team that you didn’t think of the city she might end up in. You wish you could hit rewind when you heard it, almost not believing it. She got drafted to the Las Vegas Aces, you would be in the same city for the first time in 6 years. There could be a chance of you guys actually happening. Of course, she still had to go through training camp and make the roster before she was officially on the team, but you have no doubt that that’s going to be the easy part compared to everything else that it took to get to that moment. Not to mention text you back. When you’re finally able to focus again, there have been a few more picks you decide to go on your phone and check Twitter to see what they are saying about the draft. What you didn't expect to see when you opened your phone, however, was a message from Kate.

🏀Kate 🏀

“Hey, sorry I didn’t see your message or get back to you earlier! I’m so happy that my #1 fan came to support me just like you have been all these years. It means the absolute world to me to know that you came here for me tonight because I wasn’t even sure I was gonna make it. I haven’t been on my phone like at all today, but I’d love if you’d come celebrate with me and my friends tonight? It only feels right that you’re there, you’ve been there for pretty much everything else already, you should be there to celebrate now too.”

When you read the text you could’ve sworn your stomach quite literally did flips, while a giddy feeling erupted through your body, even releasing a small, relieved, laugh. At this point, the last thing you were expecting was to get a response, at most expecting to go to a bar close to your apartment for a drink or two, if you were feeling frisky. But upon seeing her text, you decided “Why not?” and decided to respond.

“Yeah of course I’d love to celebrate with you and your friends!! You deserve it after all the hard work you put in to get here. Just send me the time and place and I’ll meet you there.”

You tried to keep your response short and sweet, not trying to read too much into what she said or trying to seem too eager. Although, you were quite excited to actually see her and have the opportunity to talk to her again. You figured it wasn’t guaranteed that you were even going to talk more than a simple greeting, let alone that she would want to talk about what happened the last time you spent any substantial amount of time together. Hell, you weren’t even sure you’d stay longer than half an hour. But before you could dwell on it too long, you got a response, with nothing more than an address and a time.

//

By the time you show up, which is 20 minutes late due to nerves alone, you are sure Kate had forgotten that she had even invited you. What you hadn’t expected was for everyone to automatically know who you were, greeting you excitedly. You thought at most one, maybe two people would vaguely know who you were, but you didn’t expect all of your friends to recognize you and know pretty much everything about you. Including things you were pretty sure you hadn’t told Kate when you would catch up.

But that’s exactly what happened, all of her teammates knew who you were, Jada, Gabbie, and Caitlin, even people she barely knew. Never in a million years did you think that she could possibly talk about you that much. You didn’t think there could possibly be that much for someone to talk about regarding you, let alone that anyone would want to, especially after 6 years of limited communication. Yet it warmed your heart, it made you happier than you had been in a long time, to know that she talked about you, that she cared about you enough to talk about you that much. Jada went as far as to say,

“We finally get to meet you after her nonstop talking about you for I don’t even know how long. We were starting to think Kate made you up,” before giving you a hug in greeting. You could tell from that alone that she was an absolute sweetheart.

new crush, high school love again

By the time you had been able to talk to Kate for any substantial amount of time, it was clear that you both had a few drinks. Neither one of you could help yourselves from embracing each other in a long overdue hug, slightly rocking as she lightly rubbed your back. You couldn’t help but feel like you belong there. You had always felt like you belonged when you were with Kate, fitting together like two puzzle pieces. Like you had wasted time not being there. You never wanted to leave her side again. You didn’t think you could stand it. At that moment, hugging each other again for the first time in you don’t know how long, you both felt like you were in high school again. You knew she still gave you butterflies, but in that moment you could have sworn you fell in love with her all over again.

“I’m so proud of you, I knew you could do it,” you whisper while pulling away from the all-too-long hug. Looking up at her, you were filled with an all-new type of butterfly, a bird maybe. Filled with a sense of joy knowing she was happy to see you, and a sense of contentment knowing that you were going to be in the same city again, for the first time in years. Knowing that you know each other, without really knowing each other. In a sense you know each other, you kept each other updated on the big things, relationships you were in when you talked, basic interests, but you didn’t know what really mattered. You didn’t know the little things, the day-to-day, the highs and the lows, and you missed that. You missed knowing the one thing that made her day unbearable, or the one thing that got her through the day. It was always you, to this day. But she wasn’t willing to tell you that yet. She loved you, and you her, and you both knew that, but you only knew that past tense.

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” she says into your ear sending a shiver down your spine. You had officially fallen even more in love with her than the last time you saw each other, and you barely talked yet. And just like no time had passed, able to see the change in your demeanor, she grabbed you by the hips before looking into your eyes.

“I’m serious y’know? I really wouldn’t be here without you. You made it all worth it,” she pauses, eyes briefly scanning the room. “Every time I felt like I couldn’t do it, you made sure to tell me that I could. You made it clear that you believed in me, but you weren’t ever gonna push me into something I didn’t want. Even when you weren’t there I still thought of you. Thought of what you would say, how you would make everything better. You got me here baby,” she finishes off. Her eyes found their way back to yours while she talked, the intensity of her gaze alone could melt you.

“Even though I wasn’t there I never missed a game. I watched every single one, even if it was just a recording. I'm still your #1 fan, and I can promise to never miss a game of yours in the WNBA now either. I’ll even be at all the home games,” you smile up at her looking to see if she caught onto your words. You can see her trying to figure out what you meant, her eyebrows scrunching up in confusion as she was thinking before a smile eventually broke out on her face.

“What? Are you moving to Vegas?” she asks, her volume growing with each word. She grabbed you by the shoulders before lightly shaking you in disbelief. As if trying to figure out whether or not this was really happening.

“Yeah, I got a job there and I’m moving at the beginning of May,” you say laughing at her clear excitement. To her it felt like she was about to burst, this is what you had been waiting for, this was a sign. It wasn’t planned and neither one of you had any idea it was going to happen, but you were going to be together again.

the rush of slumber party kissing

“I can’t believe it! Are you joking?” she asks looking down at you for any hint of a lie coming from you, but she found none, so she continued. “Like we’re actually going to live in the same city? This is amazing, I can’t believe it.” and then it slips out, she doesn’t mean to say it, but she does, “We could try. Like we could actually be together, for real-” By the time she realizes what she said she was looking at the floor and couldn’t bear to try and meet your gaze. After all, she basically just confessed that she was still in love with you after 6 years of barely seeing or talking to each other.

“Really? You’d want that?” you ask her, grabbing her face and lifting it to meet your eyes. You couldn’t believe she wanted you, after all this time she still wanted you. So you did something Kate never in a million years thought you would’ve done, you kissed her. She wasn’t sure where your confidence had come from whether it had been her basically admitting that she never moved on from you, or the drinks you had, or just simply you growing up and actually being more confident. But she couldn’t think about that now. Now she had you in her arms, for the first time in years. She had you in a way she thought she had missed out on because she waited. And in that moment she knew she wasn’t going to let you go ever again.

[plumipal]

I just had a thought- how would Grim and the ramshackle ghosts feel about all the stuff happening to us?

Especially if the yandere(s) are coming over to our dorm too! Would they, depending on the severity of the yandere and their specific actions, range from supporting it cuz yknow reader gets to be happy with someone who treats them well and loves them to concerned because sweetie please get yourself outta there 😭

I can imagine Grim is NOT alright with it and for a multitude of reasons, they are taking away your time with HIM, and once he pays more attention to the bigger picture? Yeah messed up things be occasionally happening that could very well hurt you!! He does not like that!!!

im just imagining Grim being visibly not alright and reader will not have it either when it comes to him, they are a PACKAGE deal and that is that no matter which yandere comes their way 🗣️

we have many people more alright with Grim being reader’s number one priority, or yknow silently(?) wishing it was them, poor Grim and Reader man encountering yandere after yandere 😭

Grim would give us a look if we expressed any sort of romantic interest in any yandere I think lol

‘Pologies if it was too long or ranty, though I am curious who you think would be the most and least alright with this? I imagine Leona and Ace (legally required to bring up Ace he’s my all time fav next to Grim) would NOT like it lmao

.. first off, this is the longest ask ive ever gotten, I gotta just say oml thank you so much????? You, wrote all of this, fpr me?? 🥹🥹🥹💖💖💖 this literally made my week thank you so much bestie 🥹😭 second off, this inspired me to rant too, I hope you enjoy!- (not proofread btw)

So im mainly gonna focus on grim, no offence to ramshackle ghost fans, I just really like the silly little fire-cat/rat/weasel/creature. He was literally our first friend, our first companion (I bet Ace and grim bicker on who was your first).

And oh boy, guy is NOT HAPPY when he sees all these dumbasses vying for your attention and either trying to butter him up with tuna (which will not work on the mighty grim!) or ugnore him completely! Like you stated you and him are a package deal! Get the prefect and get their silly hungry companion!!

Now, grim surely uses his position as your closest companion as a safety net, they can't kill off the closest you have to family in this world! Guess they gotta live with him if they wanna have a life with you.

Ace hates that grim was your friend before him, feeling annoyed whenever he bullied (Juice) Deuce about being friends with you before him only for grim to butt in. Ace isn't too annoyed with grim though, and grim thinks that Ace is one of the better choises of the roster you have, they're both friends after all.

Of course most students in the cast don't liek "sharing" you with grim, especially the more territorial ones. Leona is probably the worst, I mean come on they're both feline looking creatures. With scent being a heavy thing for felines (yes even beastmen dont come at me) Leona is not happy to have his scent on you be muddied by the little rodent (the greatest mage of all, grim). Probably the worst choise since they're just gonna bicker to the end of the world..

Floyd doesn't like this either! Not fair that he has to share!! And with grim no less.. Floyd results in biting you instead of scenting, his chompers being good for nibbling on you. He also has the advantage that grim is sorta afraid of him (honestly who wouldn't be? Especially yan Floyd...).

Kalim tries to brime grim, with anything he could ever think off! Unlimited tuna for grim, and the best there is as well!! Nything grim could ever want on a silver platter, only if grim let's kalim marry you! That alone doesn't sound too bad, but that unsettling horrifying servant that follows Kalim around. He knows what jamil can do, and he sure does NOT want you with that dude!- guy is manipulative and creepy (he would definelty seperate you and grim!-)

Malleus... Malleus scares grim, guys is honestly horrifying. Threatening to curse him into an eternal slumber so he can whisk you away from him, he doesn't want that! You would also get sad id malleus did that, so luckily the possessive dragon had to share (for now...)

Whoever you choose, grim would probably disapprove, guy thinks of you as family (he will never admit that tho). He cares about you, and he is not okay with the invasion of privacy from these teenagers! >:(

I know you didn't ask fpr any drawing or such, but I couldn't help myself sorry 🤭 hope you like my ramblings back at you!

[dadbodbuck]

anyway as i was telling @buckttommy i don't think tommy would really care if buck cuts their date short to take care of eddie and in fact i think he would WANT buck to go take care of his best friend. THEIR friend. because tommy has been friends with eddie for like months at this point!!!!! he cares about him!!!!! maybe not in the insane codependent way buck does, but enough to be worried!!!! enough to understand!!!!! and i don't think tommy would take a hands off approach either. mr ringside seats in vegas loves to do things for his friends!!!!!!! there's no way he wouldn't be there as often as reasonably possible, right there with buck, making sure eddie was eating and resting and going to his appointments. letting him scream and punch things in his home gym until he's exhausted, spending time with him when buck's afraid to leave eddie alone (when eddie's afraid of what he'll do to himself when he's left alone), anxiously calling buck to update him when he's on shift and has to leave eddie. tommy CARES, not just about his boyfriend who loves eddie, but about EDDIE. and maybe the three of them kiss about it too idk

[munsonsmixtapes]

Drive Me Crazy

mechanic!Eddie x fem!reader

summary: Eddie hot wires your car with the intention to take it for a joy ride but you catch him before he can

You never liked getting gas late at night. Between the creepy lighting and the weirdos who roamed around the area, you never felt safe. But your car was very low on gas and wasn’t going to make it home so you could get gas in the morning. So, you took a chance and pulled it after work. Once you got your gas, you took a chance and went inside to get a snack for your ride home.

Eddie wouldn’t have considered himself a criminal, he just liked to hot wire cars for the adrenaline. He never stole them, he would just take them for a ride and then return them like nothing happened. It was just for fun, the thrill.

He was at the gas station for some coffee to keep him awake and had no intention of taking a joy ride, but then he saw your pretty cherry red car pull into the parking lot and he knew he had to take it for a spin.

He leaned against his bike as he watched you exit the vehicle, he almost felt bad thinking about how he really did want to take your car. You were pretty even with the angry look on your face. He honestly thought it was hot, actually.

Once you were inside, Eddie snuck over to your car and was delighted to see that you had left your window down, but had locked it which seemed silly to him, but now he didn’t have to use the coat hanger he kept around. He unlocked the door and crouched down to begin his work while keeping an eye on the door for you.

He snipped two of the wires and was so focused on getting the car to start up that he hadn’t even see you come back to your car. You stood behind him, waiting for him to notice you, but he didn’t look back until you spoke up.

“Having fun there?” You asked, tilting your head to the side while taking a sip from your slurpee. Eddie whipped around and put on his best smile, hoping that he could charm his way out of the situation, but judging by the unimpressed look on your face, you weren’t buying it.

“Is this your car?” He tried his best to put on an innocent look, but you weren’t buying that either.

“Mhm,” you nodded.

“Sorry, I thought it was a buddy of mines. He has the exact same car.” Did he really think you were going to believe that? Maybe it worked on other people, but definitely not you.

“Oh, so you think I’m an idiot, right?” Eddie actually thought you were pretty smart even after knowing you for a few minutes.

“Not an idiot, no.” There were a lot of people who Eddie would categorize as an idiot, but you were definitely not one of them.

“Then what? Stupid?” He just chuckled at that.

“Those are synonyms.”

“Whatever. Do you mind moving away from my car? What were you going to do? Steal it?” You put your free hand on your hip and he didn’t like that he was finding your anger hot.

“No, I was just going to take it for a joyride.” A joyride? Why would he just steal a random car to do that? You had seen him on his bike and that seemed like the ultimate joyride vehicle.

“Look, I have pepper spray so if you don’t get the fuck out of here, I will use it.” You really didn’t, you were just hoping that would scare him off. And it did. He stood up and you reached for your purse as he backed away.

“Alright, alright. I’m going.” He put his hands up in defense as he continued to back up to his bike. “Just so you know, I work at the shop downtown, so if this ever breaks down or if you need me in anyway, feel free to come on down,” he said with a wink and you just scoffed.

“No thanks. I can fix it myself.” With that, you got into your car and he got onto his bike, making sure to give you a wink before he put on his helmet and drove off.

You got into your car and slammed the door before hitting your head against the steering wheel repeatedly. Why was he flirting with you after he tried to take your car and why did you like it? Why did you find him attractive? God, this was getting way more complicated for your liking and you were so close to driving your car over there just to see him. Maybe if you got the guts, you would.

[qiwoomi]

gender reveal

gojo x fem! pregnant reader

established relationship (married), fluff, comfort, pregnancy, overall just gojo being the best hubby, not proofread so it might be cringe, inspired from a video I came across

The weather was nice, a perfect day for a picnic.

And what's better is the fact that you can finally spend time alone with the love of your life, Gojo Satoru.

He does most of the work, setting up the mat, making sure to put another on them to make sure that you're comfortable as he knows how much you hate feeling the prickly grass under you.

"Do you want me to help?" You muttered softly, sitting on a foldable chair as you watch admire Satoru. He flashed a charming smile at you, finally done with everything as he approaches you. "My pretty baby shouldn't lift a hand at all, having you here is already enough." He kissed your ring finger, making you fall over him again.

You slightly pout, before he gently pull you up from the chair, his hand behind your back as he guides you to sit on the mat. "It's not a big deal though, I can do it still." I mumbled, as Satoru opened the basket to reveal various type of food.

"It's a big deal for me." He chuckled, carefully taking out the food out of the basket as he pressed a chaste kiss on your lips.

Comfortable silence lingered for a while, as you observed the nature around you. The birds singing, the winds breeze, the scent of nature around you, and most importantly your husband. Your hand caressed your stomach, as your eyes landed on the cake that Satoru just take out.

"Ohoho, I didn't know you brought us a cake." He mused, licking the cream from his finger as you lightly swatted his hand. "Well that, I haven't tell you for a reason." You muttered, as Satoru turned his attention to you.

"Hm, what is it about baby?" He cooed, noticing the slight change in your tone.

"Remember when I talked about doing a gender reveal?" You start, as Satoru hummed at your words. "Well, it's today." You blurt out, waiting for his reaction. It took a while for your words to click, as Satoru beamed at the announcement.

"Really?! Aww love, you could've tell me though I would want to help you." He kissed your cheek, as you brought out two glasses for the occasion. "Sorry, I just thought that it would be more intimate if we do gender reveal just between us..." You sniffled, hormones kicking in.

The sight of his wife crying makes him feel sorry, as he brings you closer to his chest while you sobbed. "No baby, it's fine. I was just surprised is all. I agree that it would be better if it's just for the two of us." He comforted, as he wiped away your tears.

He offered a smile at you, your tears calming down. "Now let's do it yeah? I can't wait to find out." He pressed another kiss on your forehead, making you smile at him.

"Okay... Here, we should scoop the glass on the cake and whatever color we got is going to be the gender." You explained, handing him the glass as you countdown from 3.

Satoru decided to close his eyes, scooping the cake and opened his eyes, his brows slightly furrowed at the color. "Yellow?" He muttered, looking at you as your eyes started tearing up again.

"No, it was supposed to be either pink or blue." You mumbled, tearing up at the fact that you messed up. This is a very important moment, and somehow you managed to mess up the coloring. It was supposed to be pink.

Satoru frowned at your distress, calming you down by caressing your hair as he hugs you. "Hey, it's okay baby. There's nothing wrong with it." He whispered in your ear, consoling you through your dissappointment. "I tried my best." You cried, as Satoru only wiped the tears from your beautiful face.

"There there, I know you did baby." He softly cooed, letting you cry your heart out. "We could do it another way you know? Maybe you can feed me either blueberries or strawberry while I close my eye, do you want it?" He suggested, calming you down as you nodded at him.

"Okay..." You mumbled through puffy eyes, it was a shame that your hormone got the best of you today, out of any other day. "Alright baby, I'm closing my eyes. Blueberry is boy and strawberry is going to be girl okay?" He reassured as he starts to close his eyes while you nod.

You start picking a strawberry from on top of the cake, feeding him as you smiled, waiting for his reaction. He munched on them for a good few, as he finally opened his eyes and hug you.

"We're having a girl?!" He exclaimed, pulling you into his embrace as he beamed at you, a wide smile on his face. You happily nodded at him, as he peppered kisses all over you face at the confirmation.

"My love, thank you so much! I love you so much." He chuckled, happy at the reveal. He knew it. He knew he was going to be a girl dad.

"I love you too... I feed you two strawberries you know.. " You added, hinting at something as it finally clicked on him.

"Oh. My. God! We're having twins as well?" He exclaimed, which makes you giddy as you smiled widely at him, nodding at him.

"My wife, I'm the luckiest man ever." He dramatically declared as he give you another kiss, long enough to render you speechless.

The picnic ended full of affections. It is the start of your journey in building life together with him, and you wouldn't have it any other way.

author's note: sorry if I'm not actively uploading stuffs, I figured that I shouldn't force myself to write when I don't want to and instead make it like a hobby of mine. :) i don't want to burn myself out again (because that had happened b4)

© @qiwoomi

est. 300524

do not copy, translate or repost my work.

[sockatoo-rob]

after seeing a bunch of stuff in the fandom related to how touch-starved ragatha really is, i just had to go back and count every time she touches herself or looks like she wants to touch someone else in episode two. and guess. just guess.

i counted eleven different times on-screen that she's rubbing her own arm, fiddling with/ holding her own hands, hugging herself, etc. eleven times is way more than i was expecting (i was thinking five at first) but it's literally almost every time she's on screen. and i didn't count how eager she was to take princess loolilalu's hands in her own.

and i also felt obligated to overanalyze the way pomni acts, especially around gummigoo... this is more about ragatha though i think? idk either way this will be long so buckle up and grab some popcorn

------

ragatha is the kind of woman to need to be touched, with every fiber of her being, but never ask for it, because she doesn't want to bother anyone. she needs physical affection, and she would accept it from literally anyone, but she also needs people to like her. she needs people to rely on her. ragatha stays optimistic to a scarily unhealthy degree jist to make sure no one hates her. and somehow it works.

she doesn't ever cross anyone's boundaries, she doesn't dare even imply that she wants to, even though she needs it more than anything. she just projects her insecurity and self-loathing in the form of "cupcakes and sprinkles and petting kitty-cats" and "if you're feeling sad just do a little dance!!" like girl is suppressing so much... the mass of all her suppressed emotions has ti have become a singularity by now.

anyway, with pomni canonically just disliking being touched, ragatha only suffers more. she seems like she's attached herself to pomni, in a sense? she's desperate to try and make pomni feel extra comfortable, for some reason. and i think i know why.

all the other members of the circus already know her. she already knows what they think of her to an extent, and she already knows how much or little her happy-go-lucky demeanor does for them all. and no one there seems to really be a genuine friend to her other than kinger. and, y'know, he's... kinger.

so ragatha has no one to really confide in, and i assume no one else confides in her other than the occasional need for encouragement or reassurance. and as previously stated, she needs people to lean on her.

then pomni shows up! and she seems like a somewhat nice person. so ragatha tries her absolute hardest to get pomni to like her. because no one else in the circus seems to care.

this dynamic seems like such a good opportunity for gut-wrenching angst and tension. maybe even a horrible scene in which ragatha tries to make pomni feel better with her debilitatingly unhealthy and unrealistic optimism im a situation that absolutely does mot call for it-- and pomni just can't deal with it anymore. because she's smart enough to know that ragatha is only using it as a decoy and a tool to hide something deep, dark, terrible, within her... and snaps at her.

full-on yelling, pointing, walking towards her all in a blind, devastating rage, because pomni is smart enough to see that it's just a way to get her self-worth from somewhere other than herself, and that it's all a facade, and she hates that ragatha thinks that's the only reason people care about her... and ragatha is dumbfounded, because in her entire life, in and out of the circus, no one has ever been able to see through it. not a single soul.

this eventually leads to a heart-to-heart, and apologies, truths, lies, and everything in-between fall out of their mouths like waterfalls. and it all leads to the best friendship either of them have ever had.

pomni is no therapist, no professional. but she's been through some bad places before, as seen in ep 2 with her conversation with gummigoo. sometimes we just need to be realistic about things, and acknowledge that things aren't okay. and pomni seems like she can keep things real. which is something ragatha desperately needs.

and when pomni is about to explode from the insanity of the world, ragatha can be there as comfort and reassurance, because pomni's always drowning in the bad possibilities so much and being so skeptical of everything that it's debilitating. ragatha can see the bright side of things no matter what (even if it's unhealthy most times), and with pomni seeming like an overall more down-to-earth person, they can balance things out really well. ragatha's got the heart to keep everyone's spirits high, and pomni can stay real with everyone to make sure they're prepared for whatever might come barreling towards them. i think this is what makes them so perfect for each other.

and the connection, the deep emotional understanding of each other leads to something... more.... homosexual. yeah i'm a chronic jesterdoll shipper of course it would lead to this

---

all the funny ha-ha aside, this dynamic is so fun to brainstorm about. i'm in love with how deep this could get. some of this might be pretty far from cannon, as only episode two is out when i write this, but i'm trying to interpret their characters as accurately as possible from what little we have so far. i think i did pretty well for a random gay bird with internet access

i'm half-tempted to incorporate a scene like this into my au. like it's soooo juicy i love it i want to write it i need to see it realized

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for "bragging" about making the deans list?

so I (19ftm) have a sorta complicated friendship with a group of friends. We're all autistic, and we all have different strengths and weaknesses. Specifically, I am very academically gifted. I graduated high school with a 3.9 gpa, consistent honor roll, APs, etc. None of my friends are even close to this. Of the other four of them, two never went to college because they couldn't do it, one is dropping out after this year, and one is a consistent c student. I don't mind this much, although I will admit it gets frustrating sometimes when I'm trying to talk about what I'm doing and they just don't get it. Recently, I found out that I made the deans list, and I was super proud of myself. I texted our gc to tell them, and one person responded saying "wow that must've been hard" in a way that felt sorta sarcastic but I ignored it. No one else responded. I assumed they hadn't seen it and while I was definitely upset, I tried not to take it personally.

Later, while we were on call, I mentioned it again. One of them, the same person who'd made the sarcastic comment earlier, responded by saying that I shouldn't brag about it so much because I knew they were all struggling academically and it was annoying to rub it in their faces that I could do things they couldn't. I got really upset, since I've had a rough year and was super proud of myself, and left the call. No one's reached out to me since.

Some important background info: everyone else has talents I physically can't do. They're all gifted artists or musicians, which I can't be because of my disability severely limiting finger and hand movement. I have never once told them to not talk about their accomplishments in those fields, even if it made me feel a bit sad. I have also gotten told off for bragging before, but I didn't get those times either. For example, they got mad when I vented about being stressed for my midterms then informed them the next day that they weren't super hard and I was sure I did great, because the friend who has since dropped out failed theirs. (If someone who understands social cues could explain how this is wrong, I would really appreciate that). They've mentioned several times that they feel stupid when I talk about the work I'm doing, as I got into a fairly prestigious university and am doing lots of rigorous work that they don't really get, but does that mean I should just not bring it up? I'm not trying to make them feel bad, I just want to talk about this part of my life and the ups and downs