#(idk if i ever will but. it's spinning in my head. I'm thinking on it)

[pbaz7]

CROSSING THE LINE — PART NINE ♡

paige x azzi

warnings: panic attack

word count: 5k

A/N: This chapter was a little sad to write but I liked detailed I was able to get with Paige's feelings . If you didn't see my post earlier I'm not sure where I'm going from here yet with this story. This might be one of the last chapters with like an epilogue or something but idk fully yet. Please let me know what you think and leave live reactions and comments if you can! Hope everyone had a nice holiday 😊

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Mid February 2024

Paige stared at her reflection in the mirror, her face pale, eyes shadowed with exhaustion. The weight of it all felt unbearable. Her mind churned with a constant noise—comments, critiques, expectations, all bouncing off the walls of her head. No matter how hard she worked, it was never enough. Each day was a new round of judgment, and she was so tired no matter how much she tried to hide it. 

It was February, and UConn had only lost two games this season, but both had come with a heavy cost. The media storm that followed each loss made it feel like the world was spinning just a little bit too fast, dragging her along with it. Geno’s contradicting criticisms were always looming. She was too passive one game, too aggressive the next, but always too something. She shot too much, didn’t shoot enough, forced too many shots. Every mistake, every misstep, every decision, was held under a microscope, dissected and discussed endlessly.

Paige’s breath came in shallow gasps as she stared at herself in the mirror, her fingers trembling ever so slightly. The scoreboard in her mind was relentless. If she didn’t get at least 25, if she didn’t clearly dominate the game, she wasn’t good enough. It didn’t matter that she was impacting the game in other ways—her assists, her defense, her leadership, her mere gravity on the court. None of that seemed to matter. Only the numbers in the point column.

The pressure was suffocating. No matter how many hours she spent perfecting her game, it was never enough.

Every morning, the first thought in her head wasn’t about the game ahead—it was about the headlines, the tweets, the messages people were sending. Every night, she lay awake replaying her mistakes, wondering how she could have done more. What if she’d pushed harder, passed differently, shot better? What if she had been more aggressive? The question haunted her like a shadow, chasing her down until she couldn’t tell where the doubt ended and she began.

The whispers were always there—people talking about her, criticizing her, claiming she wasn’t the player they thought she should be, the player she used to be. Even her own coach had joined the chorus of voices pointing out her flaws. She could feel the eyes on her during every practice, every game. Everyone was waiting for her to fall, to break under the pressure.

And sometimes, Paige felt like she might.

Azzi slowly noticed it over time. Paige had been quieter than usual during practice, a little more withdrawn in her celebrations, a little more distant. When they were on the court together, Azzi could see the way Paige was moving—slower, as if every step took more energy than the last. She was still putting in the work everyday, but it wasn’t the same. Her confidence, her usual fire, seemed dimmed. Azzi knew Paige well enough to recognize the signs.

So after a seemingly difficult practice for Paige one day, when the gym was nearly empty and the others were gathering their things, Azzi caught up with Paige. She stood in front of her, blocking her path to the locker room, her eyes soft but insistent.

"Paige," Azzi said, her voice gentle but firm. "What’s going on?"

"I’m fine Az," Paige muttered, her tone a little flat.

Azzi raised an eyebrow, unconvinced, especially considering her girlfriend's tone with her. She took a step closer, closing the distance between them.

"You’re not fine," she said quietly, her voice threaded with concern. "You’re putting on a mask, but you know I can see through it."

Paige hesitated for a moment, her gaze dropping to the floor as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other. She could feel Azzi’s eyes on her, the concern there in the way she was looking at her, but for some reason, the words felt stuck in her throat. She didn’t want to admit how bad it was lately, how much it was all eating away at her.

"I don’t know," Paige said quietly, her voice laced with frustration, a vulnerability she wasn’t used to showing. "It’s just... everything’s too much right now. The pressure. The expectations. I feel like I’m drowning, Azzi. I can’t keep up."

Azzi's heart twisted as she took a step closer, her hand reaching out to gently grasp Paige's arm. "Talk to me, baby," Azzi said softly, her voice full of warmth and care. "You know you’re not in this alone. Whatever you’re feeling, you can share it with me."

Paige let out a shaky breath, the tears she’d been holding back threatening to spill over. She could feel the walls she’d built around herself start to crack, and for the first time in what felt like forever, she wanted to let them fall. She wanted everyone to see everything—the weight of it all, the suffocating pressure she couldn’t escape. She wanted everyone to see just how bad they had made her feel. 

"I just... I don’t know how to do this anymore Az," Paige admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "No matter how hard I try, I’m never enough. The media’s on me, Geno’s on me, even our own damn fans are on me, everyone has something to say, and I feel like I’m constantly failing. If I don’t score 25, if I’m not the one carrying the team every game, it’s like I’m invisible. Like I’m not good enough."

Azzi’s gaze softened even more as she took Paige’s hands in her own, her thumbs brushing over her skin with a soothing touch. "Paige, baby" she said gently, lifting Paige’s chin to meet her eyes. "You are always more than enough. I see everything you’re doing on the court—how you’re leading, how you’re supporting your teammates. You’re making an impact in ways that go beyond just points on the board. And I know how hard you’re working. Don’t let anyone—including yourself—tell you otherwise."

The emotion in Paige’s chest bubbled up, the weight of Azzi’s words landing on her like a balm. She wanted to believe it, wanted to trust that the things her girlfriend said were true. But it was hard to let go of all the voices in her head. It was hard to not think Azzi was just being a supportive girlfriend. 

"I don’t know how to quiet my head," Paige said softly, a tear slipping down her cheek. "How do I keep going when it feels like nothing’s ever enough?"

Azzi pulled her into a gentle hug then, holding her close, her arms wrapping around Paige like a safe haven. "You don’t have to do it alone baby," Azzi murmured into her ear, her voice steady and reassuring. "I’m right here, every step of the way.”

Paige buried her face in Azzi’s shoulder, letting the tears fall freely now with no one else in the gym, no longer holding them back. She didn’t have it in here to be strong right now. She didn’t have it in her to be Uconn’s golden girl right now.

…

But then Uconn almost lost another game. Keyword being almost. 

The room felt suffocating, the walls closing in around Paige as the weight of everything pressed down on her. She had been here a few times before, locked in this dark space, trying to silence the voices in her head, but today felt different. It was harder to breathe, harder to push through.

The game had ended with a win. UConn had won by 11 points, but it wasn’t enough. It never was. Not when you were the star. Not when everyone expected perfection. Geno had praised her performance, sure, but there was always that hint of disappointment in his voice—more could have been done. More passes. More assists. Fewer contested shots because that won’t help in March.

Paige felt like she could feel the media’s eyes on her the entire game, their cameras flashing with judgment as they pounced on every flaw, no matter how small. The fans, too, had their say—complaining that she should have dropped 30 points on an unranked team, that she was being passive and deferring too much to other players. She knew they didn’t understand. They couldn’t see what was really happening on the court, the way she was trying to balance it all, the way she was doing everything she could to make her teammates shine, to get everyone involved.

But none of that mattered. Not to them.

Paige sat on the floor of the suite, back against the wall, feeling like she was shrinking into herself. She knew better than to get sucked into social media. Azzi had told her, warned her to delete it all, to stop looking at the constant stream of opinions from strangers. But here she was, scrolling through her feed, eyes filling with tears as she read each comment, each demand for more, as if she wasn’t already giving everything she had even if it was slowly killing her. 

She let out a shaky breath, biting down on her lip, trying to hold the tears at bay. But it wasn’t enough. The pressure kept building, the anxiety squeezing around her chest, making it harder to breathe. Paige put her phone down with trembling hands, the weight of it all sinking in, her head pounding with the noise in her mind.

Unable to stop herself, she softly banged the back of her head against the wall a few times, willing the thoughts to stop swirling. 

Why wasn’t it enough? Why couldn’t she just be allowed to have a good game, a solid performance, without the world tearing it apart? Why did every win feel like a loss when the criticism outweighed the praise? 

The tears finally came then, falling freely down her face as she sat there, trying to get a grip on her spiraling thoughts. The walls felt like they were slowly closing in, and she couldn’t stop the fear that was creeping into her chest. The fear that no matter how hard she tried, she would never be enough. That one day, the pressure would break her. That she would fall off the face of the Earth and everything for everyone else would keep spinning. 

She hated feeling weak, hated how powerless she felt in this moment. Not being in control. But she just tried to hold onto the thought of Azzi still in her mind, a small thread of comfort in the chaos. Azzi would understand. Azzi always did.

The room felt so empty without her. The silence was suffocating, the isolation almost too much to bear. Each breath Paige tried to take felt shallow, and the harder she focused on her breathing, the more it seemed to slip away. The more difficult it became. Panic was creeping in, like a hand pressing down on her chest, squeezing the air out of her lungs.

She could physically feel all of it—the weight of the expectations, the constant pressure to be perfect. Each thought, each criticism, each word from the media felt like it was wrapping itself around her throat, making it harder to breathe.

She knew she should call Azzi, to try to force some words out so her girlfriend knew how much she needed her. But her phone lay discarded beside her and Paige couldn’t bring herself to look at it. She knew the messages, the comments, that she would unlock her phone to would only make it worse. Her head was spinning, and she couldn’t stop it. Every time she tried to focus her thoughts, to breathe deeply, to imagine Azzi the panic only tightened its grip.

Then the door clicked open, pulling her back from the edge for just a moment. Paige’s heart tried to catch up knowing who it was, but the breath still wouldn’t come.

Azzi froze when she saw Paige, sitting on the floor, her face buried in her hands, shoulders shaking. It only took a second for Azzi to drop her bag and throw her phone on the bed before rushing over. She didn’t hesitate, kneeling in front of Paige, taking her face in her hands. Paige couldn’t look at her, her breathing coming in sharp, uneven gasps.

"Paige," Azzi’s voice was gentle, but firm. "Look at me."

But Paige couldn’t. She was shaking, struggling, trapped in the chaos of her mind. Azzi saw it instantly—this wasn’t just sadness this time. This was another panic attack.

"Hey, hey, listen to me," Azzi said softly, her fingers brushing along Paige’s cheek, trying to steady her. "Breathe, baby. You’re okay."

Azzi’s own breaths were deep, slow, as she began to count, trying to guide Paige through the chaos. "In... one, two, three..." she counted, her voice low but steady. "Exhale... one, two, three..."

Paige’s chest heaved, her breaths sharp and ragged. She tried to focus on Azzi’s voice, but everything felt distant, blurry and out of reach.

"Come on, breathe with me," Azzi whispered, gently urging her. "In... one, two, three..." She let the air out slowly, counting as she did. "Exhale... one, two, three."

Paige’s body trembled, and Azzi could feel the weight of her distress, her panic. But she kept her voice calm, breaking each sentence into short, steady breaths.

"You’re safe," Azzi said, her thumb gently tracing over Paige’s skin. "I’m here. Breathe with me baby."

Paige’s breaths came in short, gasping bursts, still out of rhythm. She tried to follow Azzi’s lead, but each time she focused on her breath, it slipped further away.

"In... two, three," Azzi counted, her voice never wavering. "Exhale... two, three. You’re okay. I love you. I’m here."

Paige’s hands shook as she clutched at her chest, fighting for air. "I can’t... Azzi..." she gasped, her voice barely audible. She was drowning in the overwhelming pressure, feeling like she was finally losing the battle.

"You can," Azzi whispered, her own breath deepening as she counted. "In... one, two, three... Exhale... one, two, three." She leaned closer, her forehead gently resting against Paige’s. "Focus on me. You’re doing great. In, out. In, out."

The air in the room seemed to thicken, but slowly, Paige’s breathing began to soften. It wasn’t perfect, but it was better. The frantic gasps slowed, her chest rising and falling with each breath, steadier now.

Azzi didn’t stop. She kept her hand on Paige’s face, gently coaxing her. "You’re so amazing, baby. You’re so strong. You’re so perfect."

Each breath they took together was a small step, and with every inhale, Paige felt the panic loosen its grip, just a little. Her hands stopped shaking as much, her body less rigid. Azzi’s voice was still steady, counting each breath, reassuring her.

"Good," Azzi said, her voice soft but filled with warmth. "That’s it. You’re okay now. Just breathe with me."

Paige’s breath was slower now, the panic starting to fade, replaced with exhaustion. She looked up at Azzi, her eyes filled with gratitude, but there was still a trace of vulnerability in her gaze.

Azzi smiled softly, her thumb brushing across Paige’s cheek. "I’m here," she whispered again, as though to remind Paige that she wasn’t alone. "I promise you’re never alone."

The storm hadn’t completely passed, but in that moment, with Azzi’s arms around her and her steady presence grounding her, Paige felt like she could breathe again.

After a few minutes of quiet, Azzi didn’t speak. She simply stood up and took Paige’s hand, gently guiding her towards the bathroom. Paige let herself be led, her body feeling light but exhausted, her mind still clouded and heavy. She felt empty, drained, but Azzi was there—her steady hand, her calm presence, like a lifeline in the chaos.

Azzi helped Paige undress. Paige didn’t protest, too worn out to resist, too overwhelmed to think about anything beyond the comfort Azzi was offering. When Azzi took off her own clothes and stepped into the shower with Paige, there was no rush, no urgency, just a quiet understanding between them as they sat in silence for a little bit.

Azzi began undoing Paige’s two braids softly as she kissed her girlfriends cheek or neck now and then. She then reached for the shampoo, squeezing a generous amount into her palm before gently massaging it into Paige’s wet hair. The warm water cascaded down over them, mingling with the steam, but all Paige could focus on was the soothing pressure of Azzi’s fingers against her scalp. Slowly, the tension in her body began to melt away. She leaned into Azzi, letting her eyes close as she rested her head on her shoulders, the simple act of being cared for grounding her even further.

Azzi didn’t say anything, her hands working methodically, rinsing the shampoo from Paige’s hair before applying conditioner. The quiet was comforting, the sound of water and Azzi’s soft hum in Paige’s ear were the only things filling the space.

When Azzi finished rinsing the conditioner out of her hair, Paige finally opened her eyes, meeting Azzi’s gaze. Azzi’s eyes softened, filled with a tenderness Paige couldn’t quite put into words. Her love for Paige was clear in the way she looked at her—gentle, unwavering, and so full of admiration.

Paige’s throat tightened, but she whispered, “Thank you.” Her voice was hoarse, but full of gratitude.

Azzi smiled, her thumb lightly grazing Paige’s cheek as she leaned in to press a soft kiss to her lips. “You don’t have to thank me, baby. I told you, no matter what, I’m always in your corner and I’m going to help you get through this.” 

The words settled into Paige’s chest. She wasn’t alone. Azzi was there, always there.

Without thinking, Paige wrapped her arms around Azzi, pulling her close. The water hit them both, but neither of them cared. They stood there, their bodies pressed together, holding each other in the quiet intimacy of the moment.

…

Steam lingered in the air as Paige stepped out of the bathroom dressed in a hoodie and sweats, her damp hair falling in loose waves around her shoulders. The soft shuffle of Azzi’s movements drew her attention to the bed, where Azzi had just sat cross-legged, a comb in one hand and two hair ties in the other.

"Come here," Azzi said softly, patting the space in front of her.

Paige raised an eyebrow, but the gentle look in Azzi’s eyes pulled her forward. She settled on the floor, her back to Azzi, who immediately began threading her fingers through Paige’s damp hair.

For a while, the room was quiet except for the faint sound of the comb gliding through Paige’s hair. Azzi broke the silence, her voice gentle. "You wanna tell me what’s been on your mind tonight?"

Paige was silent, staring at her hands clasped in her lap. She bit her bottom lip, her mind racing as she tried to find the words. "I just... I don’t know what people want from me anymore," she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper.

Azzi paused briefly, her hands stilling before resuming their steady rhythm. "What do you mean?"

"It’s like..." Paige hesitated, trying to find the words. "It’s not about basketball anymore. Every game, every move—it’s a story for someone else to tell. I can’t stop thinking about what people are gonna say after every game, and it’s exhausting."

Azzi hummed softly as she began parting Paige’s hair for the braids. "Do you think about that while you’re playing?"

Paige nodded, her voice small. "Sometimes. It’s like... the game isn’t just the game anymore. There’s so much pressure to live up to everyone’s expectations, and it makes it hard to just... enjoy it. To be in the moment."

Azzi gently tugged one section of hair, starting the first braid. "Paige, baby, you’ve been playing basketball your whole life. You didn’t fall in love with it because of what other people thought. You fell in love with it because it made you happy.”

"I know," Paige said, her voice wavering slightly. "But it’s hard not to care when there’s so many expectations. It’s like... no matter what I do, it’s never enough for me to just get one day of silence. And I just don’t want to let anyone down."

Azzi’s hands worked steadily as she braided, her voice calm but firm. "You can’t control what people think or say, no matter how hard you try so we gotta let that part go. But you can control remembering why you play. You don’t owe anyone anything, Paige—not the fans, not the critics, not even me baby. You play this game for you and only you. 

Paige was quiet for a moment, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her sweats. "It’s just hard to block it all out sometimes."

"I know it is," Azzi said softly, tying off the first braid and starting on the second. "But you’re stronger than you give yourself credit for. You’ve handled so much already, you’ve been through so much already and you’re still here, still fighting. That’s what matters."

Paige glanced over her shoulder, a small smile breaking through her thoughtful expression. "When did you get so wise?"

Azzi grinned, focused on finishing the second braid. "I’ve always been this wise. You’re just quiet enough for the first time to actually pay attention."

Paige chuckled, leaning into Azzi’s touch as she tied off the braid. Azzi ran her fingers over the finished work, smoothing down stray hairs before giving Paige’s shoulder a light squeeze.

"There," Azzi said, standing up and heading to the corner of the room to grab her basketball shoes. "Now, let’s go."

Paige blinked, looking at her with clear confusion on her face. "What? Go where?"

"The gym," Azzi said matter-of-factly, sliding her feet into some slides

Paige stared at her in disbelief. "Az, we just played an entire game and just got out of the shower. You’re crazy." 

Azzi smirked, tossing Paige’s shoes onto the floor beside her. "Come on, Superstar. I’m not asking."

Paige groaned, flopping back onto the carpet. "I picked a crazy person to be my girlfriend," she muttered, though a small grin tugged at her lips.

Azzi stepped closer, brushing a playful kiss against Paige’s temple. "Definitely, thought that was in the fine print though."

With a dramatic sigh, Paige sat up, slipping on her shoes and tying them lazily. "You’re lucky you’re cute," she grumbled as she followed Azzi out the door to her car. 

…

The gym was eerily quiet, the faint hum of the overhead lights the only sound as Paige and Azzi switched into their basketball shoes. Paige stood near the baseline, watching Azzi lace up her sneakers with an amused expression.

Azzi grabbed a basketball from the rack, dribbling it once before tossing it to Paige. "Check."

Paige caught the ball, raising an eyebrow at Azzi. "What are we doing?"

Azzi, already standing at the three point line, grinned. "We’re playing one-on-one."

Paige scoffed, spinning the ball lazily in her hands. "No, we’re not."

Azzi tilted her head, feigning innocence. "What, scared you’ll lose?"

Paige rolled her eyes, her competitive spirit sparking lightly at Azzi’s accusation. "First of all, I don’t lose one-on-one. Second, I definitely wouldn’t lose to my girlfriend."

Azzi smirked. "Then prove it. Play me. Otherwise I’ll just tell everyone you were scared."

Paige muttered something incoherent under her breath before lazily checking the ball back to Azzi.

Azzi immediately took advantage of Paige’s relaxed posture, going into a quick jumper from behind the arc. The ball arching beautifully through the air and swishing through the net.

"2-0," Azzi announced, her smirk widening.

Paige groaned, grabbing the ball. "Alright, that’s real cute."

When Paige checked the ball this time, she pressed a hand firmly against Azzi’s hip, cutting off her space. Azzi tried to drive left, but Paige stuck with her, their bodies brushing as they collided. Azzi pivoted, stepping back into a mid-range jumper that kissed the front of the rim before bouncing in.

"3-0," Azzi teased, grinning. "You’re looking a little slow tonight, P. You tired?"

"Yeah?" Paige’s voice dripped with mock sweetness as she checked the ball again. Azzi tried to hit another step back but it bounded off the rim. 

They checked the ball and Paige jab-stepped to her left, forcing Azzi to shift her weight, then crossed over and exploded to the basket with a quick step. Azzi stayed close, but Paige used her body to shield the ball, finishing with a layup off the glass. 

"3-1," Paige said, flashing a smug grin.

Azzi grabbed the ball, her competitive spirit ignited even though this was supposed to be about Paige. As they continued to play, their movements grew sharper and more physical. Paige backed Azzi down on one possession, bumping her with her shoulder before spinning for a fadeaway jumper. Azzi countered by cutting through the lane with a quick first step, using her speed to slip past Paige for an easy floater.

The teasing never stopped.

"Didn’t know I signed up for wrestling practice," Azzi quipped after Paige body-checked her on a drive.

"Yeah yeah," Paige shot back. "You’re not getting past me again."

Azzi grinned. "Oh, I’m passing you right now." She immediately drove left, brushing past Paige’s hip as she hooked her slightly and finishing with a reverse layup that left Paige shaking her head.

The game became more intense with each possession. Azzi swatted one of Paige’s layup attempts, the ball flying out of bounds. Paige groaned.

"You’ve never done that in your life" Paige said, narrowing her eyes as she retrieved the ball.

"First time for everything," Azzi replied, standing tall and grinning.

Paige responded by hitting a deep three-pointer, holding her follow-through for much longer than necessary as the ball sailed through the hoop. "9-8," Paige said, her smirk confident.

On the next possession, she used a quick hesitation move to fake Azzi out of position, draining another jumper.

As the score climbed, so did the tension. The gym felt warmer, their breaths coming faster, their earlier shower completely undone by the sweat dripping down their faces. Every drive and every block brought them closer, their bodies brushing and colliding in ways that blurred the lines between competition and something more.

At one point, Azzi’s hand lingered on Paige’s waist as she pivoted for a shot, and Paige didn’t pull away. Instead, she smirked, leaning in slightly as she jab-stepped.

"You getting distracted on me?" Paige teased, her voice low.

" Nope," Azzi fired back, though her flushed cheeks suggested otherwise.

Eventually they were tied at 17, both breathing heavily as they sized each other up. Paige had the ball tucked against her hip, her gaze locked on Azzi.

"What do I get when I win?" Paige asked, her tone playful but laced with a hint of something more.

Azzi’s eyes narrowed, her lips curving into a smile. "You’re not going to win."

Paige chuckled, her confidence unshaken. "Guess we’ll see."

She dribbled slowly, luring Azzi to sleep on defense before hitting her with a fast combo move before she drove hard to the basket, finishing with a finger roll that danced around the rim before dropping in.

"18-17," Paige said, smirking as she checked the ball. "Told you, I don’t lose."

It was Azzi’s ball again and once she caught the ball back from Paige, she stepped back, shooting a quick three-pointer that hit nothing but the bottom of the net.

"19-18," Azzi said, mimicking Paige’s earlier tone. She smirked, stepping closer. "What am I getting when I win?"

Paige grinned, walking up to Azzi until they were nearly nose to nose. “A little something to remind you how giving I can be.”

Azzi shook her head, laughing. "You’re full of it."

The game continued, both of them refusing to give an inch to the other but finally Paige ended it with a three that rattled in after she hit Azzi with a hesi pullup. 

"That’s game," Paige said, her voice triumphant as she grabbed her water bottle.

Azzi was smiling as she sipped from her own bottle, her grin unusually big. Paige noticed and raised an eyebrow. "You do know you just lost, right?"

Azzi kept smiling, stepping closer until they were chest to chest. "Yeah," she said softly. "But you weren’t thinking about anything else besides this game, were you?"

Paige blinked, her grin softening as realization hit her. For the first time in a while, she hadn’t been consumed by the weight of everyone’s expectations and opinions of how she was playing. She’d just been... playing.

"Huh," Paige said, her voice quieter. "I guess not."

Azzi smirked, leaning in close, her voice dropping to a teasing whisper. "See? I told you I’d help."

Paige leaned in, her lips brushing against Azzi’s, but before she could close the gap, Azzi stepped back with a mischievous grin.

"Nah," Azzi said, grabbing her water bottle and bag. "I’m a sore loser. You don’t get a kiss after beating me."

Paige laughed. "The winner’s supposed to get something."

Azzi tilted her head, her voice dipping into a sultry tone. "Oh? Is that what you want from me baby?"

Paige nodded, her smile growing as she stepped closer, but Azzi turned on her heel, heading for the door.

"You gotta work for it," Azzi called over her shoulder, her voice dripping with playful challenge as she walked away.

Paige stood there, dumbfounded, watching her girlfriend’s retreating figure. Despite everything she’d been feeling earlier, all the negativity and doubt, Azzi had completely unraveled it and left nothing but the Paige who loved to play basketball more than anything.

"Wait!" Paige called after her, grinning. "So, I’m really not getting any tonight?"

Azzi turned, walking backward as her smirk deepened. "Maybe," she teased, her eyes gleaming. "But like I said you gotta work for it P."

Paige chuckled, shaking her head as she jogged after her, a lightness settling in her chest. She couldn’t stop the grin spreading across her face, her eyes fixed on Azzi.

"Thank the gods," Paige muttered under her breath, her voice laced with a mix of humor and adoration, "and every single heaven above for Azzi Fudd."

The thought made her laugh softly to herself as she caught up, ready to follow wherever Azzi led her next.

[fictional-worlds-are-exquisite]

Im so glad that Google AI keeps the spirit of telling you your symptoms could be death approaching

[lesbianwyllravengard]

Going back into my cave after this but Wyllstarion x The Princess Diaries au. Wyll as Mia, Astarion as Nicholas, Tav as Andrew. You understand.

[grimgrinnrs]

...What if I eventually picked up Vox...

[thehallstara]

i just. don't think dehumanizing people no matter who they are or what they've done is the answer ever. i just. can't get my mind around that. being monstrous is as human as anything else and when we dissociate ourselves from that we run the risk of believing we can never be monstrous either

[publicdomainbooksdevotee]

Guess what just hit Project Gutenberg!

This isn't about the analytical engine (the one that could have been considered a computer), it's an article about a difference engine (the mechanical calculator one).

I just skimmed it and it's like…30% just talking about how horrible errors in calculation tables are? He's not wrong, but still. Dude. And a good chunk of describing the machine is talking about how to make the machine print out what it's doing so you can be sure it isn't making errors.

It's got some pictures.

Another large chunk goes into how horrible it is that this very important work is not appreciated enough and he needs more money, which I guess yes, he's definitely right that calculating machines can REALLY be world-changing, but also my dude, you never finished one!

[W]e express our regret, that a discovery of such paramount practical value, in a country preeminently conspicuous for the results of its machinery, should fall still-born and inconsequential through their hands, and be buried unhonoured and undiscriminated in their miscellaneous transactions.

I mean yes, your mechanical calculator is definitely remembered as a too-early broken offshoot of early computing history, but also they gave you seventeen thousand mid-19th-century pounds sterling and you didn't make a whole working calculator. There comes a point.

[ladykailolu]

I’m imaging scenarios of Godot slow-dancing with his boyfriends, one at a time, one-on-one. And each time, it’s just the two of them swaying back and forth, so close to each other, in the lonely darkness of an empty room. They dance to the song “Slow Dancing in the Dark” by Joji, hands holding onto each other, fingers intertwined, Gyro and Jake resting their heads on Godot’s shoulder, taking in his scent of subtle spicy, living in the moment.

[frost-queen]

Tired of giving you all of me (Reader x Rodrick Heffley)

Requested by: me Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @alex--awesome--22, @ellie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve , @queen-of-books , @glimmering-darling-dolly , @denkisclown , @wildieflower , @meyocoko , @justanothercoco, @subjecta13-thefangirl , @m-rae23 , @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr , @swampything07, @melsunshine , @panhoeofmanyfandoms , @venomsvl , @the-uncoordinated-house-cat , @rosecentury , @imagines-by-her, @evilcr0ne , @vviolynn , @niktwazny303 , @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 , @markive-m

Summary: You've had a crush on Rodrick for a while now, you finally dared to go ask him something. When Rodrick seems to invite you more for bandstuff. It takes you a while to finally see he was just using you for his own good. Rodrick realizing it too late that he can't think of anyone else. [idk if this will even be popular or that there is still a demand for, but ever since I saw the movie again I needed to get the idea out, so if this is only for me, so be it] - (N/Y/N stands for not your name)

You were very nervous. Very nervous about approaching him and asking for a shirt. Rodrick Heffley stood by his locker with two of his band members. Laughing and goofing around with his drumsticks. Pretending to punch the guitarist in the stomach whilst laughing loud. Collecting all your courage, you got in motion.

First hesitant but then you were already walking, it would seem idiotic to turn on your heel and leave. Only having to endure your poor decision. Heart thumping loud as you clutched the book in your hand a bit too hard against your chest.

Your feet stopped behind him as he still had no clue of your presence behind him. Taking a deep breath, you went to tap him on the shoulder. Rodrick stopped laughing, taking a half spin toward you on his heels. His eyes widened briefly before they settled with boredness.

"Yes?"- Rodrick said with a hard stare it made you want to crawl away. -"Hi Rodrick... I...I was thinking if I could get a shirt?"- you asked with all the confidence you could find. Which wasn't a lot. Rodrick scratched the back of his head confused with a drumstick. -"From your band."- you flapped out.

Swallowing nervously afterwards. -"How much are they?"- you then asked when he remained silent. He looked over his shoulder to his bandmates before letting his arm rest against the lockers. -"N/Y/N right?"- he said totally getting your name wrong. -" It's Y/n actually."- you corrected shyly.

Not that he was listening. -"Look our shirts are practically sold out."- he told you with a cool attitude. -"Really?"- you questioned, so gullible in believing it. Rodrick puffed loud, waving his drumstick down. -"Yeah."- he said as you saw his drum mates snicker behind him.

"But if you really must have one."- Rodrick spoke unbothered. -"I think I can find a spare one at home."- he let you know. -"Okay cool."- you responded with a shy smile. You turned around, feeling as hot as a stove. Rodrick puffed sarcastically, lowering his elbow from against the locker. Turning back around, he grabbed the guitarist by his neck, pulling him low to give his head a good rub. 

Counting the cash in your hands, you walked up to the Heffley household. Unsure how much Rodrick would charge you for a shirt, you came prepared. Ready to spend to one hundred bucks just for a shirt from him. You hated how expensive your crush on him was getting. Tugging the money away, you rose your hand to knock. Three firm knocks, making you take a step back. From behind the door you heard commotion.

Making you plaster up a smile. -"I'm already going."- a voice said whilst opening the door. A young boy answered the door, looking you up and down. You figured it must be Greg. Rodrick's younger brother. -"It's a girl."- he shouted to someone to the right. There was a loud gasp as you felt a bit uncomfortable.

The door got opened more as mrs. Heffley pushed Greg aside with a surprised look. -"Hello mrs. Heffley. My name is Y/n, I'm in Rodrick's class. Is he here?"- you introduced yourself. Greg started laughing as his mother nudged him hard in the elbow.

Her eyes seemed to lit up as she held her finger up. Almost trying her best not to smile so over exciting. -"Rodrick dear, there's a girl to see you."- his mom called out at the foot of the stairs. Greg kept staring at you questionable. -"What did he do?"- Greg asked curious. 

"Nothing."- you replied, moving your hands behind your back to occupy them. -"He paid you right?"- Greg assumed. -"Nope."- you anwered with a shake of your head. -"No way a girl wants to talk to Rodrick willingly."- Greg let out laughing. -"Rodrick!"- His mother called out again, more annoyed now.

You heard a door slam followed by loud thumping. -"What?"- Rodrick called out annoyed, scratching his hair. -"Rodrick."- his mom made clear with a nudge to you at the door. Rodrick's gaze went to you. He then immediately rushed back upstairs. -"Rodrick"- His mom yelled out as his behavior.

"Auch."- Greg said to you, walking off snickering. Waiting here for a shirt made you feel scammed. Like you were waiting for nothing, only to be fooled and laughed at. Lowering your gaze, you were about to turn back when there were more loud stomps. Rodrick rushed down the stairs, walking up to the door.

"N/Y/N right."- he was wrong again. -"Y/n."- you corrected him with a polite smile. Rodrick puffed unamused. -"Got my money?"- he said as you immediately grabbed for your money. -"How much is it?"- you asked as Rodrick's eyes widened on seeing the money in your hands.

He plucked the cash from your hands. All of it. Too bothered with the money, he threw the shirt at your face. It blinded you as a second later you heard the door slam. Taking the shirt down, you took a look at it. It was an ugly grey shirt with löader diaper written on it with a marker.

"You could've given me a nicer color!"- you shouted at the door. How ripped off you felt. Sighing soft, you went down the driveway back to your bicycle. Placing the shirt in the front basket, you started cycling home as the sun had already set.

Thinking about how Rodrick clearly had no interest in you and ripped you off by taking all your money, made you cry. Wiping your eyes constantly to keep your vision clear. All that for a boy you like. Something you were never daring enough to do something about it. 

The next day at school, you were sitting in class waiting for the teacher to enter. Gaze low on your books till you saw a set of black painted nails set on your desk. Moving your gaze up, you met up with Rodrick Heffley. -"N/Y/N."- he said lowering his head down keep a low voice. -"Y/n."- you sighed out at once again your name being wrong.

"Löader diaper has a gig tonight, can you come?"- he asked, looking over his shoulder if anyone was listening in. Your eyes lit up, curling up a smile. -"Really?"- you replied trying to dim your excitement. -"Yeah income fee is 10 bucks."- he told you. -"Didn't you already took enough money from me."- you pointed out at the hundred bucks he claimed ownership over.

Rodrick puffed loud, looking away. You kept glaring at him to make your point. -"I'm already giving you a fan discount."- he responded tapping on your book. -"You're a leech."- you muttered out. Rodrick smiled tauntingly.

The teacher walked in, dismissing Rodrick to his desk. You could barely pay attention. Constantly thinking of the upcoming gig. Of Rodrick Heffley actually having asked for your presence. Wanting another fan there. Unable to stop yourself from smiling, you were glad Rodrick sat somewhere far behind you. 

For the gig, you had put on the band shirt. Trying to make it as flattering as you could. You arrived at the gig after having gotten the text from Rodrick. Waiting by the entrance for him. You received some looks, all looking at your shirt.

Not the good kind of looks. Jumping back, the white van hit the brakes fast in front of you. The windows were down as the guitarist thumped his hand against the car door. -"Shirt girl!"- he called out. The comment made you roll your eyes, but still it was better than Rodrick giving you each time a different name.

Rodrick had gotten out, opening the side door, revealing another band member laying down with his legs up. Rodrick whistled loud calling you over. You went over to him. He took one glance at your shirt before grabbing a bag and shoving it in your hands.

"This needs to get backstage."- he said shoving another bag in your hands. -"Ro...Rodrick"- you breathed out confused. He gave you in each hand, held by a few fingers two more bags. -" Thanks N/Y/N."- he said getting it wrong again with a pat against your cheek. 

You wanted to correct him, but had slightly enough of it. Rodrick motioned for you to get a move on. Sighing loud, you carefully made your way backstage. Trying hard not to trip. The last few meters you tumbled forwards as the bags plopped out of your hands.

Exhaling loud, you were out of breath. Returning to them, you got handed over more bags and gear. Going back and forth... alone with no help from them. Exhausted and worn out, you made your way to the stage. Needing a moment to see the room was close to empty.

Just some drunks, some weird gathering club that clearly couldn't book another venue and a guy already starting to clean up. You were the only one, who moved to the front of the stage. Looking uncomfortable around. The band got on stage as Rodrick went to sit behind the drums. They introduced themselves as you were the only one clapping.

Rodrick started to slam the drums as they played one of their favorite songs. You tried to ignore the drunks behind you, enjoying their gig. They played a few songs till the guy cleaning up cut the lights, setting them in darkness. He didn't even apologize as Rodrick suddenly stopped playing.

Staring saddened in front of him. Taking his drumsticks, he left the stage in anger. You quickly made your way backstage. Seeing Rodrick scratch the drumstick in his hair. -"You were amazing."- you complimeted them. Rodrick stopped, eyes widening at you.

He than laughed loud. -" Pack up N/Y/N."- wrong again. -"It's Y/n"- you made clear with a glare. -"Whatever." - he answered letting the drumstick twirl between his fingers. Sighing loud, you collected the bags. This time the other bandmates helped out with the heavier gear. Rodrick waiting in the car, behind the wheel.

After the car was loaded, he drove off without offering you a ride home or a goodbye. Sighing soft, you went home alone. Ever since the gig, you got pulled up more and more by Rodrick to do things for him. Charming you each time with something fun till he made you do everything. Basically becoming their roadie for everything. 

Rodrick sat at diner, discussing the upcoming talent show, he wants to join with his band. It could be his major breakthrough. Greg snorted loud, receiving a stomp underneath the table from him. -"Auch."- Greg called out. Rodrick mimicked his pathetic whining as their parents sighed loud. -"So Rodrick... this talentshow... you'll need a lot of preparation right."- his dad started to gear up a conversation. -"Duh."- Rodrick answered with a full mouth.

"I'm so prepared for our breakthrough, I'm making more shirts."- Rodrick let out. -"Oh."- his mother responded intrigued. Rodrick lowered his fork. -"I'm letting Y/n do all the work."- he answered chuckling. His father's fork dropped, clattering against his plate. Staring with wide eyes of shock at his wife. -"Hold up."- his mom began.

"Are you telling me you are using Y/n to do your work?"- she made clear. -"Yeah."- Rodrick replied obviously. His father threw his hands up. -"Wow."- Greg said dramatically. Rodrick looked at everyone not getting what was wrong about it. Rodrick's phone rang as the name popped up on the screen. His mom taking a quick glance at who was calling him. Minion. Rodrick got up, picking up the phone. -"N/Y/N."- he said all smug. He heard you sigh on the other side.

"Are you even trying?"- you asked him at once again calling you wrong. -"How are my shirts?"- Rodrick asked avoiding your question. -"Done... I'll drop them off later."- you yawned loud after your sentance. -"Cool."- Rodrick answered before ending the call. 

You arrived at the Heffley household with two bags full of hand-made Löaded diaper t-shirts. Rodrick opened the door without any acknowledgement to you. He took a bag from you, looking inside. -"How many are there?"- he asked. -"40."- you told him with a smile. Rodrick dropped his gaze at you.

"40? I asked you to make 70."- Rodrick called out. -"No you didn't."- you replied sure you were right. Rodrick sighed taking out his phone. -"There, see."- he showed you the texts between him and you. Your eyes widening at the nametag. Minion. In horror you stared at it, not even caring for the number. -"What?"- Rodrick called out, looking back at his phone.

"Is that what I am to you?"- you shouted. Your sudden loud voice startled him. -"Minion. You're just using me!"- you threw the bag full of shirts at him. It hit him in the chest as he caught it before it would fall to the ground. -"What is the big deal about it."- he answered unbothered.

It pained you to finally see the reality. Having not wanting to see it for so long. Always telling yourself that he liked you. That you were only helping him out cause he wanted to be close to you. Turns out you were wrong. Unable to control yourself, you started crying.

"The deal?"- you called out. -"You're using me to do your dirty work and I stupidely let you. I let you use me because I wanted to be close to you."- you cried out in a state of hysteria. -"Because I'm in love with you!"- you confessed wiping your tears away agressivly. Rodrick staring with wide eyes back at you, unsure what to say.

You threw the second bag of shirts at him as well. Rodrick tried ducking for it, but it hit his shoulder when he ducked to the side. -"You are the worst Rodrick Heffley!"- you shouted wanting to hit him but your hand lingured in the air. Rodrick having turned his head, ready to receive the impact.

Yet it never came. Slowly opening his eyes to you. -"Get my goddamn name right!"- was the final thing you shouted at him before running off. Crying so loud, you had to keep wiping your eyes dry to see something. Rodrick swallowed nervously, entering the house once more.

Greg jumped in front of him all jokingly. -"Ha! You loser."- Greg laughed out, making fun of his brother. Rodrick clenched his jaw, jumping at Greg. Pulling his head under his armpit out of angerness. Greg started calling it out for mercy as Rodrick gave him none.

"Rodrick!"- his mother shouted pulling at his shoulder. Rodrick let go of Greg with a loud huff. -"That's it!"- she called out when Greg taunted Rodrick once more. Rodrick nearly jumping at him to mess with him. -"No talent show for you!"- mrs. Heffley made clear.

"What? But it could be my great breakthrough."- Rodrick answered pleadingly. -"I am sick of your behavior and how you just treated Y/n is beyond how I raised you! You need to learn some respect Rodrick!"- she said as a final. Rodrick stomped up the stairs angered to his room. Slamming the door shut. Letting himself slide down against his wall. Palms pressed deep onto his eyes. Knees to chest as he felt at a sudden loss. 

Rodrick hated that his mom still made him come to the talentshow. He was waiting in the open room before being seated. He looked around, gaze stopping as he spotted you. He made the effort of wanting to greet you or talk to you. You locked eyes with him, giving him a glare. Before he could stop you, you walked off.

"Y/n..."- Rodrick said as it never reached you. Being ignored so obviously. Exhaling loud, he lowered his hand once more. Turning his head, he met up with his mother's gaze. A lot of sympathy in it. Rodrick shrugged her off, heading for the theater. He took his seat next to his mom at the outside.

He had a good view at backstage. Eyes widening as he saw his bandmates and Bill appear backstage. His eyes widened even more seeing you appear near them. -"Be right back."- Rodrick said slipping out of his seat. Making his way down to the stage to find a way backstage. -"What is going on?"- he called out confused. Bill laughed doofily. -"Are you playing without me?"- he asked feeling betrayed.

"Yeah."- Bill answered groovily. -"But I started the band."- Rodrick replied in shock they would play without him. -"That's rock and roll dude."- Bill told him. -"Oh and I took your minion too."- Bill let out. Rodrick's eyes widened with anger. Before he knew it, his fist swung at Bill's jaw. Bill tumbling to the ground.

"You stay the hell away from Y/n!"- he called out as his guitarist had to pull him back. -"Rodrick?"- you said confused approaching. You had left for a second to fetch them some water. Rodrick looked back at you with a gulp. He took as step closer to you, saddened to have being so stupid.

You set the waterbottles down, taking your leave. -"Y/n!"- Rodrick called out making you stop. -"I'm sorry..."- he apologized. You shook your head not wanting to hear it. -"You never are."- you told him. Rodrick ran up to you when you started to distance yourself from him. -"Y/n."- Rodrick repeated grabbing your wrist to pull you to a stop. -"I'm tired of being used by you."- you called out. You wanted to turn around when Rodrick took your other wrist as well, keeping you in place. -"I'm an idiot."- he confessed.

"An idiot for not seeing what was right in front of me. I shouldn't have used you or take you for granted. I'm really sorry about that Y/n but please don't hate me. That is the least thing I want."- he finished. Rolling your eyes at him, you puffed loud, turning away from him. Rodrick pulled you back to him. Lips crashing onto yours.

So caught up with you, he hadn't seen how he was on the stage. The curtains dropping as the kiss was displayed to the entire theater. There were gasps all around and muttering. The guitarist trying to get his attention. Rodrick retrieved his lips, looking shyly around at the peering eyes.

Annoyed, he pulled you backstage. Looking back at you, he snapped his finger in front of you. Seeing how frozen you had gotten from the kiss. -"Must I kiss you to unfreeze you Y/n?"- he teased with a chuckle. You immediately shook your head, hand pressing against his chest. Rodrick smiled moving a hand on your lower back to kiss you again. Not taking you for granted anymore.

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

Read more of my fics on my Masterlists!

[letsyapthenightaway]

The Hockey Boys reacting to you being shipped with another player

Matt Rempe- a Hughes out of all the people who you could get shipped with it had to be Luke Hughes. He's ticked about it but doesn't straight up say it but it shows. He gets even more clingy always pulling you in closer, his head on your shoulder. When he sees reasons as to why you two are being shipped he adds himself into the narrative. "Just because you two fit the tall and skinny + Short and Plus size duo? That's literally us too so..'" I feel like you would get posted a lot more on his socials when this ship starts getting talked about.

Luke Hughes- He will get so annoyed! It's a little funny like "They are shipping you with Matt Rempe! Rempe, out of all people!" Rolls his eyes every single time he sees a tweet. If he sees a tweet about how Matt could carry you while Luke probably can't. He is causing HAVOC proving everyone wrong! he can carry his girl and is showing it off. At a game specifically after a win. Straight out of a movie skates over, picks you up, and spins you with the biggest smile. So smug when those ship posts start to go down and are now being replaced by how cute you two are.

Jack Hughes- "FUAKING TREVAH?!" All of this is because you said you liked his tattoo. I don't know Trevor but from how fans describe him I'm gonna say that he will tease Jack but still in a way that's respectful with his girlfriend. "Mr. Steal your girl" "Shut up, Trevor" He wouldn't take it to heart, would be a silly joke between all of you. "I'm taking your girlfriend on a date!" The dude offered to drop you off at your place. If it's an off day he would softly mention it, only a little insecure but it was still on his mind. Some loving and reassurance will help him real quick. Would make a public comment about how Trevor's tattoo is actually lame, but it's a joke.

Quinn Hughes- With his brother, really? Looks at the tweet and laughs Jack and you would never do that to him. Plus he has way better hair than Jack you said so yourself. I don't think Jack would joke about it, he would probably pull away a little. He wouldn't want that ship blowing up more, he respects you and Quinn. This is about Quinn but I don't think he would let this get to him at all, it would get more to you and Jack. Jack will think of something to get you and Quinn more cuddly in public so the people talk about you two. "look at my brother AND HIS GIRLFRIEND! HIS!!" Oh, how did that picture of Quinn's hand on your butt start trending? The world may never know...

Connor Bedard- Honestly? Wouldn't find out on his own. Someone had to tell him, he walks into the room and just does his default stance "When did you ever say you like older men?" Awkward silence because you have no idea what he is talking about. "They are shipping you with Jack Hughes" idk I feel like as he says that he is walking over making you lay down for a sudden cuddle session. Feel like he would hide his face in your neck with his arms wrapped around you. You would feel him laugh and a muffled "as if" looks up at you with that Bedard smile/smirk pulling you in tighter.

I wish I was lying when I say I spent more than 5 minutes laughing at the fucking Trevor. I was in tears and it isn't even that funny.

[weneeya]

hi!hi!!! this is the same person who requested tht office romance w/ kuroo last time hehe. i love your writing style so much bc its easy for someone like me (who has a deteriorating brain functioning system from all of the brainrot ive been influenced by the internet) to understand and imagine in my silly deluional head XDDD anyways !! id like to request dad! headcanons for the black jackals (specifically, hinata, sakusa, atsumu and bokuto^^) omg maybe a scenario where they find out that reader is pregnant then proceed with the headcanon with how they act with the kid/s i just needed to request this bc my baby fever has been progressively getting worst and i just cant stop thinking abt kids :']] GOODLUCK AND I WISH U WELLLL !!! <3333

baby fever w/ hinata, atsumu, sakusa, bokuto m.list | rules

note. omg thank you sm I'm so happy you loved the one with Kuroo because i loved writing it sm!! and i probably the idea even more because omg the boys as dads?? it's genius idk why i've never did it before! i hope you'll love it just as much <3

Hinata Shoyo

You had been trying to have a baby with Shoyo for a few weeks already, but it was like fate was against the two of you because you seemed to not be able to end up pregnant. You were slowly starting to lose hope ; thank God Hinata was way too positive and optimistic to even think about the worst. It was helping you, in a way. 

He was at the gym to train for their next matches when you learned the good news. You didn’t hesitate twice before almost rushing to join him. He was talking with his team, most specifically Bokuto, when you arrived like a fury. Shoyo looked at you with a big smile and you waved at him. He came to you in no time. 

“You seemed happy. What’s the news?” He asked with his usual smile, and you almost felt the tears in your eyes. You took his hands between yours, trying not to talk too loudly. “We did it Shoyo! I’m pregnant!” And your words didn’t get the time to fall in the silence. 

Hinata held you tightly between his arms, carrying you off the ground and spinning around with you in his arms. Right after your feet finally met the floor again, he cupped your face with his hands to kiss you. “I told you, we needed to be patient!” And you were sure that the rest of the team was going to learn the news sooner than later. 

good with children ; he has a little sister after all 

always so patient no matter what 

not the type to ever yell, so when he get to angry mod, the kid stop immediately 

will talk a lot about highschool and his friends ; so proud 

take pictures all the time, videos too ; a lot of memories of your baby boy 

ready to take a break from volleyball so he could give all his time to you and the baby

Miya Atsumu

Saying that Atsumu was scared of having children was an euphemism. The man was absolutely terrified by the idea. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to have a child with you, of course not ; it was just the responsibilities which were so stressful for him. He kept acting cool at first but after some time you’ve been able to understand what was going on inside of his mind. 

Until you’ve been confronted with reality. You were alone in the bathroom, and Atsumu was waiting for you right outside of the room. Things were a bit weird with your body lately and you both noticed it. So it wasn’t so surprising that you took a test just to be sure. 

You got out of the bathroom, and your gaze met Atsumu’s eyes. You slowly showed him the test, and he could quickly read the answer he was waiting for. You were pregnant. He looked back at you, and he saw that you were about to say something he didn’t want to hear from you. 

“Don’t ever say you're sorry,” he started, slowly caressing your cheek with his thumb. “It’s the best news you could have told me. Because we’re going to have the most beautiful baby ever, and I’m going to love you two until the end of my days.” This time, you couldn’t really help the tears which felt down your cheeks. You closed your eyes, and he left a kiss against your forehead. 

“I love you,” you told him in a whisper, and he couldn’t help but to smile slowly. “I love you too,” was his answer before he held you tight between his arms. He was scared, of course ; but he couldn’t be happier at the same time because God knew how much he loved you. 

the man is an overprotective mother ; almost like he was the one who bear the baby 

careful about absolutely everything 

acts cool but stressed when something doesn’t go as planned 

girl’s dad at 100% 

loves to be considered as a princess ; will wear a dress and a tiara 

bringing gifts all the time, especially when away because of volleyball

Sakusa Kiyoomi

You already talked about having children with Sakusa, but the conversation was never ending well. In fact, it always ended up in an argument. Your partner was completely closed at the discussion and you couldn’t understand why. 

So when you learned that you were actually pregnant, fear ran over you. You cried a lot, for a long time. How were you supposed to say this to him? Was he going to leave you? You were so scared, and it was messing with your poor mind. 

Sakusa came home after practice, and he found you in your bed, curled up in the blanket to hide yourself. A sigh left his lips before he took place right beside you after being ready to do so. “What are you hiding from me? Don’t say nothing, I know you too well. There’s something wrong.” 

You looked at him and he frowned immediately when he saw the redness of your eyes. You had been crying for quite a while, so he knew he was right ; even if he hoped to be wrong. He slowly caressed your cheek, waiting for you to find the strength to tell him. 

“Kiyoomi… I’m pregnant…” You told him in a little voice, and his eyes widened almost right now. He blinked a few times, and you looked away, feeling the tears coming back. “I know, we talked about it, but I…” 

Sakusa grabbed your chin with all the softness in the world, making you look back at him. He left a small kiss against your lips. “I couldn’t be happier, my love, I swear.” It was your turn to stay silent, all blinking. This is how you learned that the only reason behind Kiyoomi’s anger towards pregnancy was actually fear because of all the complications. 

But if it was for you, he was ready to take the risk. Because having a baby with you was all he could dream of. You just needed to be careful. 

biggest girl’s dad ever 

will do anything for his baby girl ; even if it meant going out with ribbon in his hair 

discreet about his private life but when he sees you two during his matches? can’t hide much longer 

completely devoted but still know how to be a little strict 

wants his child to have the best education so he’s careful about everything 

get scared every time the baby is just a little sick 

overly protective ; especially when it comes to boy close to his girl

Bokuto Koutaro

He was made to be a father, you were sure about it. He loved children so much, there was no way he wouldn’t be happy to learn that you were pregnant. But it was still pretty stressful for you, because you were never sure of anything with Bokuto. 

Today was the day, because he was finally coming back home after being away with his teams for a few weeks. You couldn’t announce this to him on the phone so you had to wait for him to come back. When he entered your shared apartment, he had a huge smile on his lips. Being able to finally reunite with you was all he could ask for. 

You were sitting on the couch, and he almost immediately jumped on you. As the yapper he was, he started to talk about his trip and everything that happened. But you seemed lost in your thoughts, and he noticed it quickly. 

“What’s wrong babe?” He asked, tilting his head to the side. You met his gaze and a sigh left your lips. “I have something to tell you,” you started, and Bokuto slowly frowned his eyebrows. Something was weird, and he didn’t like it at all. He stayed strangely silent while you were trying to find the right words to tell him the news. 

Another long sigh left your lips before you finally decided to say it out loud. “I’m pregnant, Kou.” And the silence after that was long. Too long for you, and you started to worry. Until a huge smile appeared on his lips. He grabbed your hands, eyes wide. “We’re expecting a baby? Really?” 

It was like all your worries fled away at this exact moment, and you slowly nodded with a smile on your own lips. “Yes, we’re expecting a baby.” Nothing could go wrong if it was with Bokuto after all. 

neither a girl’s dad or a boy’s dad ; just devoted and obsessed with his children 

had probably cry more than you when he saw your baby for the first time 

it’s like the accomplishment of his entire life 

not really the strict parent ; doing half of the stupidities with your boy 

will obviously teach him volleyball at the youngest age 

always playing with your son when he can ; doing his best to be as present as possible 

will show him to the camera during his interviews after a match 

always talking about you or the baby to everyone ; really the proudest 

a kid himself so obviously he know what to do to make the baby boy laugh 

thank you for reading!

[luveline]

idk if you would write for this I checked your guidelines and wasn’t sure but I would LOVE a pregnancy scare with Aaron (May be reader is younger than him?)! And she’s just panicked bc he’s older and already has a kid and etc and the test can be pos or neg totally up to you!

thank you for requesting! 1.3k, fem (possibly) pregnant!reader

cw reader's and hotch's attitude towards pregnancy is mostly positive

Your period is twelve days late. 

That is not a small amount of time. 

You don't notice it at first, and when you do you figure it's a few extra days without an irksome pain, a balm to soothe the ache of your absent boyfriend and a hard job, but when Aaron comes home from a case and you still haven't started your period, the panic begins to set in. 

You have a hard time keeping things from him for obvious reasons. His being a human lie detector felt fascinating when you first met, but now it's making things worse. You would've liked some time to yourself for denial, only he can always tell when something is wrong, though it's clear to you he's not sure exactly what it is. He'll realise eventually, you know. 

"Let's go to the store," he suggests, his hand flirting with the back of your neck. "You always feel better after a sweet treat." 

You've been to the store today, unbeknownst to him, for some emotional support chocolates and a small box you'd rather not think about. You'd hoped that he might get called away to give you time to open it, but without him you're not sure you have the strength. 

You hadn't expected to feel this way. You want desperately to tell him, but you're just so, so scared. 

"I don't feel like going anywhere." 

He hums as his hand moves to your shoulder, squeezing a loving path down to your hand. Jack bangs a toy down in his bedroom across the way, and the washing machine spinning from the utility closet sounds louder than it ever has before, like a rocket about to erupt. You don't know what it is that gets you, but suddenly you're overwhelmed, a confession stuck in the back of your throat as Aaron meets your panicked gaze. 

"What's wrong?" he asks. "Here, honey, sit down." 

He guides you to a kitchen chair. 

"What's wrong?" he asks again, bending at the waist. 

Your head rushes with white noise for a second. You wet your chapped lips with the tip of your tongue; you've missed your period, but it isn't that alone that scares you. Perhaps in an instance of a psychosomatic symptom, you feel weird, other. Something has changed. And you're starting to feel sick. 

"Aaron, I don't know what to do," you say. 

His eyes widen with an expression you don't often see. "Has something happened?" 

It's so, so hard to say. "I think I've messed up." 

"Not in any way I can't fix." 

"Maybe I have," you say miserably, panic hot behind your eyes. 

He shakes his head. "You haven't. I swear you haven't. Please, tell me what's wrong before I have a heart attack." 

You can't say it while he's looking at you, and when you do it's hardly audible. "I think I'm pregnant," you breathe. 

Aaron pauses. You can't even raise your head, anxiety its own heartbeat and nausea rising fast. You let out a gasp you'd held in and try to calm down, even while every little part of you worries about what he's going to say. 

You don't know if you want to be pregnant, or have a baby, but you know it would probably break your heart just a touch if Aaron didn't want to have one with you. You're not sure why. And Jack is a beautiful kid but he's growing up. Aaron isn't young. 

"How sure are you?" he asks, tone completely measured. 

"I… I feel it," you say. "I know that's stupid… 'N my period is really late, nearly two weeks now." 

"You feel it?" 

"I feel sick." Your elbows on your thighs and the backs of your hands pressed to your eyes, you curl in on yourself. "I'm so scared." 

"You're scared?" Hands on your forearms. Aaron gets down on his knees in front of your chair and rubs fondness into your skin, his voice a soothing, familiar comfort as he says, "Sweetheart, you have nothing to be scared of. Don't be scared. I'm right here." 

Tears like a shock, relief and horror mixed into one. "I'm so stupid, I haven't even taken the test yet, I don't know why I'm acting this way." 

"We all react differently to foreign situations than how we might imagine. What's important now is that you take a breath, because otherwise you'll panic." 

While you're afraid of what he's thinking, you trust him implicitly. "Okay." 

"Okay," he says, pulling your hands away from your face. "Just breathe, honey." 

He's more patient than you knew another person could be. He wipes your straggling tears with his hand without a word, his breath coming in even inhales and exhales for you to follow. The small spike of panic swiftly melds to plain old tears. You're embarrassed. You're unhappy. You and Aaron certainly weren't trying for this occasion. 

"What are you scared of?" he asks eventually. 

"Of you. Of what you're thinking, and– and what if I– I mean, what if I'm pregnant?" you ask, as though pregnant is a new word. When you said it at first, you'd meant, what if we end up having a baby together? But now you're more inclined to think about the process itself. What if you're physically pregnant? 

"Well, you have absolutely no reason to be scared of me. I love you." Aaron puts his hand just under your ear, his thumb to your cheek. "Whatever happens. Nothing else matters to me besides you." 

"Because you want a baby," you say unhappily. 

"Who says I don't?" He smiles at you softly. "I think we should've had this conversation a long time ago, but the long and short of it is that I love you. I love you and I'll do what you need me to." 

"I figured you'd be done having babies," you say, still hesitant. 

"Evidently not." He laughs, and you laugh back and he acts like you've hung the moon. "If you're scared of being pregnant, maybe you should take the test before you wind yourself up, hm?" 

"I guess I'm acting pretty silly, huh?" you ask, sniffling and wiping your eyes, the two of you caught in breathy laughter again. 

"Hormonal, maybe," he says. "Don't be scared. I don't want you to be scared." 

"What do you want?" you ask. 

"I just want you to stop crying. It's not right…" He strokes your damp cheek. "If I'm honest? If you take that test, and you aren't pregnant, or if you don't want to have a baby," —his face is calm, a small smile playing on his lips— "then I don't want you to, either." 

"But if I am?" you ask. 

"Then I will be so, so happy, because it's you." 

A missed period isn't necessarily indicative of pregnancy, and you could be freshly pregnant or four whole weeks and the test could still come out negative. Maybe your weird feeling is indigestion. Whatever happens, you really believe that the man in front of you is here for whatever answer you find. 

"I love you."

"I love you, too," he says, bone deep sincerity turned to something lighter, fondly teasing as he lifts himself up and hugs you close. "You know that." 

You let him hold you for a little while, calming down, looking at the positives and all your options. "You think Jack would be happy?" 

"He'd love a brother or sister… eventually." 

You wipe your tears and runny nose in his shirt and he does you the generosity of pretending not to notice. If you are going to have anyone's baby, you'd want it to be his. 

[eph3merall]

there's toxic!chris.. but what about toxic!matt ?

this was so stupid. matt was such a fucking bitch! sure, yeah, you know you aren't the only girl he's fucking. but would it kill him to clean up after himself sometimes? you're sitting on the edge of matt's tidied bed—actively ignoring the red lace bra and tropical smelling perfume bottle you found laying around his floor.

he's stalking out of the shower with damp hair, a pair of low hanging sweatpants and a black tank, with his eyes already roaming over you. immediately he can tell something is wrong and he isn't sure if he wants to even pester you about it, knowing he probably won't even get an answer.

"so, like.. you okay?" are the first words you hear from matt as he shifts around to get comfortable on his bed. he rests his head back against his headboard, a pillow supporting his lower back as he crosses his arms across his chest. your back is to him, and you don't answer.

right. he should've seen this coming. just because you're silent at first doesn't make him stop though, because oddly enough the idea of you being upset (you, his favorite hoe) has his mind reeling and stomach churning uncomfortably so he tried to get you to open up.

he's putting both his hands up when you turn around and snap at him, all annoyed. "god, matt, do you ever know when to leave something alone? obviously i'm fine so why can't you just shut the fuck up?!" he hates to admit how beautiful you look and sound right now, brows furrowed in exasperation and lips parted, screwed into a scowl.

"no, y'know what, i'm leaving." he was too busy staring at your lips and your chest that he didn't hear the words leave your mouth for a second before you're suddenly getting up and gathering some of your belongings. matt is up in a second to wrestle you to face him, hands on your shoulders and shaking furiously.

"seriously, what the fuck is wrong? you haven't ever acted like this, like, ever." you're ignoring him, because he was such a douche. yeah, you get that you aren't special to him but sometimes he really was a fucking bitch. call it jealousy.. you weren't dealing with it tonight. "matt— leave me alone." white hot tears are already springing into your eyes out of anger as well, and having matt see you cry seemed embarrassing enough that it encouraged you to twist and squirm yourself from his grasp.

he doesn't get it until he sees your eyes water, and he's confused nonetheless. does he act though? yeah, because he wasn't thinking. his arms are around you in a second, effectively spinning the smaller girl in his arms to his chest. a ringed hand is cradling the back of your head, tangling into strands of hair.

"what's wrong, huh?" he's mumbling into your head and holding you a little too tight for comfort. but matt didn't want you to leave. so when he felt your body go lax in his arms he loosens up a little, enough so to tug you towards his bed where he lets you lay your head on his chest.

he doesn't exactly expect an answer, and he's not surprised when he doesn't get one. his grip is always firm, as if making you sure you don't somehow get up. because oddly enough, he wants you here. not even to fuck, he just wants you like this—cheek pressed against the material of his black tank and your body on top of his.

you're pissed off still. it's mainly the reason you're giving matt the whole silent treatment shit, even if you know it's a little unfair. he's told you multiple times you aren't the only girl he fucks, that you aren't special in any way. (you are though, he thinks you're special but won't ever tell you) you don't get why this is upsetting you, it's not like you seriously have feelings for him, right?

sighh toxic!matt is such a bitch n he makes me wanna punch something but he's one of my favs

not proofread

more smut coming soon !! idk when maybe when i get ideas and finally finish my masterlist ....

—

©eph3merall 2024

[delespresso]

DETESTATION ━━ Fiyero x fem!reader

author's note; this was previously titled 'kiss me' lol. i cant lie, i was sort of just winging it with this one — i've been doing a lot of rivals to lovers u guys, my brain is a little confused now 😭 idk if i liked this but i hope its good! <3

prompt; “You can’t just…kiss me to win a fucking argument, [NAME]!” “You’re right…but did it work?” ps; i changed it up a bit, oops

summary; the constant back and forth was totally out of total detestation. . . right?

━━ ☄. *. ⋆

It was the third invite to the Ozdust Ballroom within the month.

Ever since the Winkie Prince showed up at Shiz a few months back, he's been influencing quite a few trips to the scandalocious venue. In fact — he started it immediately on his first day.

She didn't plan on going this time either. Even if the invite had come directly from him, while he was following her tail all over campus.

"C'mon, princess, it'll be fun," Fiyero urged as he walked behind her like a little puppy.

Typically, she refused to even be in his vicinity. With her luck though, somehow Doctor Dillamond decided he needed a tutor to push him through history class — so of course, she was chosen, being the current top student.

"Think of it as me thanking you for helping me ace history," Fiyero continued.

He did, in fact, ace his history after that. A whole A solid.

"For the millionth time, Fiyero, no," she huffed.

He rolled his eyes at another rejection, still following her as they found their way into the dining hall. It was sparse at the moment, they were quite early this time.

"Your welcome for history. But that's it," she added.

She grabbed a tray, starting to put food on it. As she did though, the infuriatingly charming — and annoying — prince stole a piece right out of her plate.

"You should learn to live a little. See the nightlife. Go dancing. We don't live forever, you know?"

She stared up at him as he just went on his little ramble about life.

"If you're worried about a dance partner—"

"I really don't care—"

"I'm sure Boq is very kind to help in that," Fiyero said with a sly smirk.

Respectfully, Boq was nice and cute in a way, but she would much rather drink a tub of toxic elixir.

She could only scoff in response, picking up her tray and finding a seat. Still he refused to let up.

"One night. Its just one night, it really won't kill you," Fiyero insisted.

"It won't, but I might kill you."

She set her tray down with a huff, but she didn't get the chance to sit yet before he was pestering her again.

"I've lived quite well, I wouldn't mind dying at your hands," he shrugged.

"Are you serious right now?" she scoffed. "I have a fork and knife an inch away from my hands, don't tempt me."

"Oh, how horrifying," he mock gasped.

Oh, this little—

"Truthfully, I find a death by my history tutor to be a beautiful exit," he continued with a smug grin.

"You have no sense of self preservation. My hands would be a painful way to die," she retorted.

He didn't miss a beat, grabbing her hands in his in such an oddly gentle manner that had her brain crashing for a moment.

"These soft hands? I find that hard to believe."

She blinked rapidly, just staring at the way he held her hands to his chest for no reason. Why was her head spinning? Why was her pulse rushing?

"You're infuriating," she managed to hiss as she pulled her hands away.

Really, she had no idea why this man annoyed her so much. She felt an irrational amount of irritation when he was around. Her head would sometimes go empty when she looked at him, her heart suddenly going too fast and her stomach feeling like it was floating.

Dislike. Pure, utter, dislike. Loathing, perhaps. Detestation.

Those were the only acceptable answers.

She ended up taking her lunch to go, bringing it with her to eat somewhere else where she could escape him.

"Come dancing tonight!" he tried again even as she stomped away from him and replied over without turning back.

"Eat grass!"

It was her roommate that dragged her to the Ozdust Ballroom that night. No one else.

Certainly not the persistent, annoyingly handsome prince. No.

She allowed herself to have fun for a while, dancing around with her roommate. She didn't catch a single glimpse of him so she assumed he bailed.

She would be absolutely wrong when she ended up twirling right into his arms.

Fiyero's hands were on her waist, keeping her right there as her hands ended up on his biceps. He grinned down at her, that casual and laidback smile he always had.

"You came."

"Not because of you."

He chuckled at her quick defensiveness. It was cute to him. Taking her hand, he gave her a quick whirl before pulling her close again.

"Of course not," he agreed.

"Plenty of other reasons to come to a party," she nodded.

"Mhm."

"Nice ambience, people in nice outfits," she started to list aimlessly.

"Yes, they do dress up nice," he continued to agree.

"Good music, exceptional dancing—"

"You dance well."

"Random excuse to dress myself up too—"

"You look lovely."

"The lights are quite nice too, all blueish—"

She didn't get the chance to keep yapping when suddenly a pair of warm lips were on hers. It felt like she was on fire. A good kind of fire. When she opened her eyes again and their lips parted, she met his gaze under the lights.

Her lips were parted, her breath catching. Her face was definitely flushing and Oz— her head was reeling. She was too flustered she ended up fumbling her words.

"You can't just kiss me to win an argument, Fiyero!"

He laughed at her reaction. In hindsight, he should've probably not do it out of nowhere. But her reaction was priceless.

"Yeah, probably not. But it shut you up," he mused.

She stared up at him, eyes wide as she was clearly baffled.

"You need to stop finding excuses, princess," he teased, giving her yet another whirl.

Her dress flared out before she ended up back with him, flush against his chest. Whatever she felt for him was strong. Though she was starting to suspect it wasn't actually detestation.

She'd likely been in denial.

"You need to not kiss someone without permission," she retorted anyway.

Fiyero only smiled, but at least he nodded sincerely with a bit of a shrug.

"Fair enough. Sorry," he agreed. "Can I have a redo?"

She raised a single brow up at him, this time catching up with the dance way better than when she initially ended up in his arms. A coy, almost teasing smile pulled on her lips as she casually ended up leading the dance.

"Let's see your dancing first, Winkie Prince."

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[nvrsaidiwasinurcloset]

Hiii I saw ur recent post and idk if this is any help but what about an Ethan Landry x Carpenter! Reader smut? So basically reader is Sam and Tara’s little sister, she’s like one year younger anyways it can be something where they all go to the same college and are in the same friend group. And the reader has always had a crush on Ethan since she got accepted in Blackmore with her sisters and her and Ethan are really close like best friends so she doesn’t wanna ruin the friendship, but at the frat party they all decided to play spin the bottle and reader gets ethan and yk they make out but then after the party Ethan starts avoiding reader cuz he’s always liked her to he js got in his feelings and thought it was awkward. But after like reader cries to Tara and Sam and stuff Tara knocks sense into Ethan and they makeup and confess and well yk what they do next lmao but this js popped in my head and ur my favorite Ethan writer so pleaseeee consider writing this tyyy🩷

Hiiiii💕 This is the first thing I've fully written in a while, so I hope you like it!!

All I Want - Ethan Landry x Fem!Carpenter!Reader

This contains SMUT - Minors DNI

Summary: See ask box lmao. I probably ruined the suspense but that's okay💀

Contains: Underage drinking, Oral - f receiving, p in v (My brain is done for the day so if I'm missing anything, let me know.)

W/C: 7.7k

A/N: I'm still a little rusty, but this was the first thing I've written in forever that wasn't absolute fucking clown shoes lmaoooo. Also, if you see any spelling/grammatical errors, no you didn't 💀

When you moved in with your sisters right before you started your freshman year at Blackmore, the last person everyone expected you to get the closest to was Ethan. He wasn’t the most social, but that’s what drew you to him. He was really quiet the night you first met him, which only made you want to talk to him even more. You talked for hours, learning so much about each other as he came out of his shell, and you’ve been inseparable ever since.

Sam was just as protective over you as she was with Tara, and once she noticed you and Ethan were spending a lot of time together, she cornered him in the kitchen one night when he came out of your room to get a drink during one of your many study sessions.

“What’s going on with you and my sister?” Sam questioned, as Ethan’s cheeks turned bright red. He felt so awkward and uncomfortable as she stared him down. “Are you going to answer me?”

“Sorry,” he mumbled, as he leaned against the kitchen counter. “Nothing’s going on. We’re just friends.”

“There better not be anything going on,” Sam warned, “And I know you stayed over in her room the other night. I’m not okay with that.”

“Nothing happened,” he said, as he glanced at the floor. “It won’t happen again.”

“I swear, Ethan, if you try anything with her,” Sam got out, before Ethan got really frustrated with the situation.

“I can’t be her friend without wanting to get in her pants?” Ethan questioned, as Sam was taken aback at his tone change. “You’ve known me for a year now, and I know you worry about her just like Tara, but do you really think I’d do that?”

“I’m sorry,” Sam said, as she relaxed a little, realizing she was in the wrong for questioning him like that. “She’s been hurt before, and I don’t want her to go through that again.”

“I understand where you’re coming from, but I just want to be her friend. Guys and girls are allowed to be friends without there being something else going on,” Ethan said, as she sighed and nodded. “Do you care if I study in her room with her? Or would you rather have us in the living room so you can keep an eye on us?”

“You can study in her room,” she said, as Ethan walked away from her with his drink in his hand.

Ethan wasn’t lying when he said that nothing had happened between the two of you, but he was lying when he said he just wanted to be your friend. The only person he’d mentioned his crush on you to was Chad, who immediately shut it down, knowing that Sam would have no problem killing Ethan and disposing of his body if he ever did try anything with you. Chad knew Ethan was a good guy, but with how skeptical Sam was over his relationship with Tara at first, even though they’d been friends since childhood, she knew it would take a lot longer for her to even begin to warm up to the idea of you and Ethan being together. If that wasn’t enough of a reason to keep him from saying anything to you about the way he felt, the possibility of him making things awkward and fucking up the friendship if you didn’t feel the same definitely was.

When Ethan walked back in your room, he saw you laying on your stomach, stretched out across your bed as you looked at your phone.

“I thought you got lost,” you said, looking at him before you glanced back at your screen. “What took you so long?”

“I was busy getting grilled,” he said, as he was about to sit down beside you, before he sat in your desk chair instead, just in case Sam walked in.

“Getting grilled?” you asked, as you adjusted yourself so you were sitting up. “Why?”

“Wellll,” he said, shifting awkwardly in the chair. “Pretty sure your sister thinks I’m close to you because I’m trying to sleep with you.”

“Oh my god,” you said, as you hopped off the side of your bed, ready to confront her.

“Wait,” he said, as you hesitantly came to a stop and looked at him. “I kind of got pissed and raised my voice a little. That was terrifying enough. I don’t need you snapping on her and I end up on her shit list because she scares me.”

You laughed at Ethan’s words and the nervous look on his face before you went back over to your bed and sat down.

“Why did she have to make things weird?” you questioned, as you laid back and looked at the ceiling.

“It’s okay. I told her I’m only interested in being your friend,” he said, his words like a punch to your stomach as you felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. You’d always had a little crush on him, but now you felt stupid for feeling things he didn’t. “Oh, and I don’t think I should stay over ever again. She mentioned that, too.”

“We literally fell asleep with the lights on and our laptops in front of us,” you sighed, “The only reason she’s being weird is because she saw a box of condoms when I was unpacking after I got here.”

“Oh,” Ethan mumbled, his leg bouncing as he sat in silence for a few seconds. “Should I expect a boyfriend to come visit and want to kick my ass?”

You giggled at his words as you sat back up, “No, I just didn’t want to leave them at home and have my mom go through my stuff while I’m gone. I didn’t want to have that awkward conversation with her, but I ended up having it with Sam.”

Ethan cracked a smile as you cringed the more you thought about it. “Well, at least she knows you’re being safe.”

After that day, you decided to hang out with Ethan at his apartment instead. It was a lot less awkward than dealing with Sam wanting to play the role of a helicopter parent, and because Tara was always there, you got to hang out with her more than you did before.

“What do you guys want to do tonight?” Chad asked, as the four of you sat around the living room. “There’s a party at Kappa Sigma.”

“Oooh, my first college party,” you said, getting a little excited as Tara stared you down. “What?”

“I don’t think you should go to a frat party,” she said, before Ethan spoke up.

“I’ll make sure she’s safe.”

“College guys can be really convincing,” she said, ignoring Ethan’s comment. “I just don’t want some asshole to take advantage of you.”

“I’ll just stay with Ethan all night,” you said, before you turned your head to look at him. “If that’s okay.”

“Of course,” he said, as Tara sighed in frustration.

“I don’t think you should go,” she said, as you started to get really annoyed.

“I remember you calling me to vent when Sam was doing this same shit to you, and now you’re doing it to me,” you said, as you stood up from your spot on the couch. “I just want to have fun.”

Tara knew you were right, because she vividly remembered how pissed she got when Sam was a little extra-overbearing and wouldn’t let her do anything.

“Fine,” Tara said, taking a deep breath before she continued, “But you stay with Ethan all night, okay? And if you tell Sam, she’ll lose her shit on both of us.”

“Okay, wanna go home with me and get ready before Sam gets home from work, then?” you asked, as Tara nodded and kissed Chad before she stood up.

“We’ll met you guys there in an hour.”

You and Tara hurried to get back to the apartment and get ready before Sam got home, because even though she’d loosened the reigns on Tara, she hadn’t done the same for you. Once you were ready to go and you and Tara were about to leave, you heard the door unlock.

“Fuck,” you sighed, a defeated look on your face as Tara grabbed your hand and opened the linen closet door, before she pushed you inside. “What the fuck?”

“Shhh,” she said, as she closed the door.

You heard Sam greet Tara when she walked in, before she asked her what her plans were for the night. When she mentioned the party, she said it wasn’t set in stone that she was going, just that her and Chad had been talking about it. You rolled your eyes when Sam said you better come back home if they did go, because she didn’t want you left alone with Ethan. It was taking everything in you to not pop out of the closet and ask her what her problem was, but you decided to stay silent and listen instead.

“You know Ethan’s not a bad guy, right?” Tara questioned, “He’s not some creep.”

“I know he’s not,” Sam sighed, “I think she likes him, but after she got her heart broken last year, I don’t want her to go through that again.”

“If she does, she hasn’t said anything to me, and she tells me everything,” Tara said, as you heard the sound of Sam’s keys getting sat on the kitchen counter.

“That’s true,” Sam said, “I’m going to go shower. If you do go to that party, be safe.”

“I will,” Tara said, as you heard footsteps getting closer to the closet.

You jumped when the door was flung open, a nervous expression on your face until you realized it was Tara.

“Let’s get out of here,” she said, as you giggled and made your way to the front door.

As you and Tara walked the few blocks to get to the frat house, weaving around the people that were on the sidewalk, she got a little curious as she thought about the conversation she had with Sam.

“Do you like Ethan?” she asked, once you stopped at a crosswalk.

“Of course I like him. He’s my best friend,” you said, as the two of you rushed across the street.

“You know what I mean,” she said, as you sighed.

“Not like that,” you lied, “I’m not interested in having a relationship right now.”

“That’s too bad,” she said, “Because someone told me that he likes you.”

“Really?” you asked, as Tara came to a stop once she noticed the excitement in your voice. “I mean…who told you that?”

“It doesn’t matter,” she said, a smirk playing on her lips as your cheeks began to heat up. “You sure you aren’t interested in him?”

“I’m not interested in anyone right now.”

When you walked into the party, you were a little nervous when you saw the sea of people. Tara asked if you wanted to get a drink, and on the way to the kitchen, you bumped into Mindy and Anika.

“Hey!” Anika said, hugging you once she saw you, before she moved over to Tara. You noticed Mindy behind her, her eyebrow cocked as she stared at you.

“Something tells me Sam has no idea you’re here,” she said, as she took a quick sip of her drink. “I didn’t believe Ethan when he said you were coming.”

The mention of his name had the butterflies in your tummy going crazy. You thought about what Tara said, you were sure that Chad was the one that told her Ethan liked you, and he never lied. Mindy noticed you glancing around the party for him before she spoke up.

“He’s in the living room,” she said, the knowing look on her face making you roll your eyes.

“I need a drink. If he’s my babysitter tonight, I want to give him a reason to keep his eye on me,” you said, before you heard Anika mumble, “Yeah, like he needs a reason.”

Once you got your drink, you and Tara found Chad and Ethan leaning against the wall, talking about a new movie they wanted to see. Ethan smiled when he saw you, giving Chad a look before he whisked your sister away, leaving you and Ethan alone.

“Hey,” he said, as he snatched your drink out of your hand. “Sam would kill me if I let you drink.”

“Ethannnn,” you whined, as you tried to take it from him, but he held it out of your reach. “Can I please have my drink?”

“Only if you promise not to drink too much. I’d be worried about you all night after you go home,” he said, as he hesitantly lowered the cup so you could grab it.

“I promise,” you said, a soft smile playing on your lips as you took a sip of it. “So…what do you want to do?”

“Well, I can’t dance,” he said, as he looked at all the people grinding on each other in the middle of the living room floor. “You might not have that much fun with me.”

“I always have fun with you,” you said, your tone flirty as Ethan smirked at you. “We could always go somewhere and talk.”

“Okay,” he said, as he pushed off the wall. He grabbed your hand as he weaved between the crowd and through the house. You eventually ended up in a random bedroom, the sounds of the music thumping very faint as you took a seat on the bed.

You were nervous as you sat with Ethan, because you were trying to find a way to bring up what you were told. You liked Ethan and you loved hanging out with him, and the more you thought about it, you thought about how perfect you could be together.

“So, someone mentioned something to me today,” you said, as Ethan curiously looked at you.

“Oh? What was it?” he asked, and just as you were about to respond, the bedroom door was flung open.

You and Ethan both had wide eyes as a few frat guys and a handful of girls walked into the room, their expressions matching yours.

“If you guys are going to fuck, you need to go to another room,” one of the guys said, as you glanced over at Ethan and giggled once you saw the pink tint to his cheeks.

“We weren’t. We were just talking,” you said, as you stood up.

“Wait, are you guys together?” the same guy asked, as he looked you up and down.

“No,” you said, as he smiled at you.

“You guys want to play a game with us?”

You looked over at Ethan, silently asking him if that’s something he’d want to do before he shrugged.

“Sure,” you said, as you took another sip of your drink.

“Okay, come sit on the floor,” he said, as Ethan stood up and walked over.

You were a little confused once you noticed everyone was sitting in a circle. You and Ethan sat beside each other, waiting to hear what the plan was.

“Is this some kind of weird satanic ritual,” you joked, before the guy chuckled and grabbed an empty vodka bottle off the dresser.

“We’re going to play Spin the Bottle,” he said, as he sat down and put the bottle in the middle of the circle.

Ethan immediately got uncomfortable as he sat beside you, because he felt sick at the idea of watching someone else kiss you. You felt the same way when you noticed one of the girls looking at him, and even contemplated getting up and leaving the room.

“Is that really what we’re playing?” you asked, as a different guy spoke up.

“You don’t want to kiss a stranger?” he asked, “Because I was hoping when it was my turn, it’d land on you.”

“We’re just having fun,” the girl that was checking out Ethan said. “There are some rules, though. If a guy spins it and it lands on another guy, they get to spin again. If a girl lands on another girl, they can kiss if they want or spin again. But these losers like the girl-on-girl action a little too much.”

“Oh,” you said, “I don’t know if I want to play this.”

“Come on,” a different guy said, as you glanced over to Ethan. “You’re a freshman, right? Have a little fun.”

If you didn’t deal with enough peer pressure in high school, you realized it was just as bad in college. You took a huge gulp of your drink as the first person spun the bottle.

As the game progressed, you were a little surprised that no one had gotten you or Ethan. You were getting more and more buzzed as you sipped your drink, and once it was your turn to spin the bottle, Ethan got really nervous. He looked around the room at all the guys that were hoping it’d land on them, and he was a little irritated they were eyeing you like that.

As the glass bottle moved against the hardwood floor, you were relieved when it landed on Ethan. Relieved until you realized you actually had to kiss him. One of the guys groaned in the background as you looked at Ethan, his eyes huge as you leaned in.

“You’ve been drinking. You don’t have to kiss me if you don’t want to,” he said, soft enough for only you to hear him.

“I want to,” you whispered, before your lips touched his.

You couldn’t put into words what it felt like to kiss Ethan, but after he kissed you back and your mouths were moving together, you didn’t want it to stop. You weren’t sure if the feeling of your head spinning was from the alcohol or kissing the guy you’ve been crushing on since you first got to New York.

Just as Ethan’s tongue brushed against your bottom lip to deepen the kiss, the bedroom door flung open. You pulled away to see your sister and Chad’s panicked faces, the fear on Tara’s face turning to annoyance as she walked over and grabbed your hand to pull you up. You glanced around to see everyone staring at you, the awkwardness of the moment setting in before she yanked you out of the room, with Ethan following closely behind you.

“I asked you to keep an eye on her and you make out with her?” Tara asked Ethan as she shut the door. “What were you guys doing with those losers?”

“Wait, they were making out?” Mindy questioned, making her presence known as she and Anika leaned against the wall. “That’s the most action he’s gotten since he’s been here.”

If kissing you didn’t already have Ethan’s mind racing, the tension between him and Tara and the embarrassment of Mindy basically calling him an inexperienced loser was a little too much for him. He walked away and went straight to the door, leaving you to stand there, very confused. You thought Ethan was just as into it as you were, but once he walked away without saying anything, you wondered if Tara was wrong when she said he liked you.

Later that night when you got home, the party you secretly went to wasn’t a secret anymore when Sam walked into the bathroom to see you leaning over the toilet as Tara rubbed your back. She was livid, because she couldn’t forget the creep that tried to take advantage of Tara at the first college party she went to.

The next day, Sam wanted to talk to you about it, but you had no interest in having that conversation. The only thing you could think about was kissing Ethan, and how every text you’d sent to him got no response. The hangover made you feel awful, but what made you feel worse was the realization that you fucked up your friendship with the guy you’ve been spending time with almost every single day.

After a few days of you only leaving your room to go to class, Sam and Tara both came in your room to talk to you. Their faces showed how concerned they were while yours was blank, because as sad as you were, you’d already cried more tears than you thought was possible.

“What’s going on with you?” Sam asked, as you just sat there. “Can you talk to us? We’re worried about you.”

“I don’t want to talk,” you said, your voice showing how tired you were as Tara sighed.

“Did something happen at that party? Because Ethan’s acting the same way you are right now,” she said, the mention of his name making your eyes water. “What did he do?”

“He didn’t do anything wrong,” you said, your words cracking as you spoke. “I think you were wrong about him liking me.”

“This is what I was worried about,” Sam said, as she took a seat on your bed. Her words pissed you off, because her cornering Ethan to question him and talking to Tara about it instead of just coming to you had been bothering you for days. “I’ll kill him.”

“No, you won’t,” you snapped, “Maybe if you weren’t so fucking overbearing, he’d still be talking to me.”

“You’re blaming this on me?” Sam asked, the shocked expression on her face making you angrier.

“Okay, let’s calm down,” Tara said, trying to mediate the situation before it got worse. “So, you do like him?”

“Yes, I fucking like him,” you said, the tears streaming down your cheeks as she pulled you into a hug. “I don’t know what I did wrong.”

You talked to Sam and Tara for a while before you cried to the point of having a headache. Once you said you were going to take a nap, Tara left the apartment to go to Chad and Ethan’s.

“Hey, babe,” Chad said, the smile on his face as he opened the door for her dropping when he realized she was mad. “What’s up?”

“Where’s Ethan?” she questioned, as Chad stepped to the side for her to walk in.

“He’s in his room.”

She stormed down the hallway and gave his door a few loud knocks before she walked in, glaring at Ethan once she saw him in front of his computer playing games.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” she snapped, as Ethan’s face showed how nervous he was. “My sister just cried on my shoulder for an hour because of you!”

“She was crying?” Ethan asked, the guilt weighing heavy on him as her nostrils flared. “I didn’t mean to upset her.”

“Then why did you?!” Tara questioned, as Ethan shifted uncomfortably in his desk chair. “I thought you liked her!”

“I do!” Ethan yelled back, before he took a deep breath and ran a hand through his curls. “I just needed some space to think. You know how bad I feel about making out with her like that when she’d been drinking? And Mindy saying that’s the most action I’ve gotten all year? I should’ve gotten her out of that stupid room that night.”

“Ethan,” Tara sighed, as she took a seat on his bed. “She really likes you; she wouldn’t be as upset as she’s been for the last few days if she didn’t.”

“She doesn’t think I’m just some creepy loser virgin?” he asked, as Tara shook her head. “Should I call her?”

“She’s asleep right now, but I think you need to talk to her in person,” she said, as Ethan stood up. “If you hurt her again, Ethan, Sam will be the least of your worries.”

Tara stayed at the apartment with Chad while Ethan walked to your apartment. He hated that you were so upset, and he was just hoping that him ghosting you for a few days wouldn’t be enough for you to not want to give him a chance to explain himself.

When he got there and knocked on the door, he was nervous about who was going to answer, but he had to make things right. Sam opened the door, but she didn’t have her usual cold expression painted on her face, a soft smile playing on her lips as she saw how frantic Ethan looked.

“She’s still sleeping,” Sam said, as she stepped to the side. “But I need to talk to you about something before you talk to her.”

“If you’re going to yell at me, I promise Tara laid into me pretty hard just now,” he said, as Sam smiled and took a seat at the kitchen table.

“I’ve taught her well,” she said, before she continued, “I’m sorry that I was a bitch a few weeks ago. I just worry about her, you know?” Ethan nodded in understanding, as Sam sighed. “She really cares about you, and I think you’d be great for her. I’m still mad that you upset her, but if you want to be with her, I’m okay with it. I won’t give you shit, I promise.”

“Seriously?” Ethan asked, smiling to himself as he heard your bedroom door creak open.

He snapped his head in the direction of the hallway, and once he saw how sad you looked, he started to tear up himself.

“I need to go to work,” Sam said, as she stood up from the table. “I’ll let you two talk.”

You stood at the hallway entrance as Ethan sat at the table, the two of you not looking away from each other. It wasn’t until Ethan wiped a stray tear off his cheek that you finally walked over to him.

“Hey,” you said softly, as he stood up from his chair.

“Hey,” he said, as he grabbed your hands and pulled you towards him, your head resting against his chest as he held you. “I missed you so fucking much.”

“I missed you, too,” you mumbled against him, before you pulled away. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable the other night.”

“You didn’t,” he said, as his hand cupped your cheek.

You smiled for the first time in days as he leaned down and placed his plus lips against yours. You felt that same head spinning feeling you’d felt before, but as the kiss was getting more heated, he pulled away.

“Can we talk?” he asked, as you nodded and laced your fingers with his, before you led him to your room.

“If I didn’t make you uncomfortable the other night, why’d you stop talking to me?” you asked, as you got comfortable on your bed and Ethan sat across from you.

“I kissed you when I’ve liked you for months and never thought anything would come from it, your sister yelled at me after she saw it, then Mindy had her little comment,” he said, taking a deep breath as he looked at you. “I feel bad that I was letting that kiss go that far when you were drinking, and I know you’d probably want a guy that has experience in the bedroom. Maybe I’m just overthinking it.”

“I don’t care about stuff like that, Ethan,” you said, as you reached over and grabbed his hands that were rubbing against his thighs. “And I kissed you because I wanted to. Me being buzzed just took the edge off so I wasn’t as nervous.”

“How long have you wanted to kiss me?” he teased, making you laugh a little.

“A while,” you said, as he smirked at you. “I didn’t know you liked me until right before that party.”

“Wait, how’d you find out?” Ethan questioned, as you looked down at his fingers playing with yours.

“Tara said someone told her; I think it was Chad,” you said, as Ethan rolled his eyes.

“I’m annoyed that he told my secret, but I’m happy he did,” he said, as you leaned closer towards him.

“Me, too.”

When Ethan closed the gap between the two of you and your lips moved with his, things felt different, but not in a bad way. You knew you both wanted to be with each other, and you could feel how happy he was to be kissing you.

As the kiss escalated to him on top of you, his tongue moving with yours as your hands tangled in his hair, his hips started to involuntarily squirm. He was about to pull away because he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, but once your legs wrapped around him and your own hips began to move, he groaned into the kiss.

When he pulled away to catch his breath, you started to kiss his neck all over, searching for his sweet spot. He gasped the second you found it, his eyes fluttering shut as he enjoyed how good it felt.

“I’m so fucking hard right now,” he whispered, a whimper building in your throat once you felt it rub against your pussy over the leggings you were wearing. “Does that feel good?” he asked, noticing the sounds you were making as he grinded himself against you.

“Yes,” you moaned as you pulled away.

You both just looked at each other, waiting for someone to make the next move. You didn’t want Ethan to feel like it was something he had to do, while he was worried that he was pressuring you. He was about to lean down to kiss you again, but you stopped him before he could.

“No pressure, but if you want this to go further, I’m okay with it,” you said, as he smiled at you.

“I want to,” he said, before he kissed you again.

He wasn’t sure what he was doing, but once you gasped into the kiss as his hand rubbed your exposed side from your shirt lifting a little, he inched it further up until it landed on one of your breasts, and he felt like he could cum in his pants from the feeling once he realized you weren’t wearing a bra. You moaned into the kiss as he squeezed, his hips rutting against you to give you both a little friction.

“Okay,” you said once you pushed him away a little to catch your breath. “I’m going to go crazy.”

“Why?” he asked, smirking at you as you sighed.

“We need to lose some clothes,” you mumbled, as you loosened the grip your legs had around his waist.

You reached over and grabbed the hem of his shirt and lifted it, your bottom lip going in between your teeth as you checked out his toned stomach. After his shirt was over his head, he reached over and did the same to you. The second your chest was exposed to him, he pushed you back on the bed and immediately took one of your nipples in his mouth.

You moaned at the feeling as he licked, sucked, and swirled his tongue against you, your pussy throbbing as his mouth moved. As he went to the other side, you felt his hand on your thigh, slowly inching up it.

“You can touch me,” you said, your tone sounding like you were trying to convince him. He sighed against you before his hand was in between your legs, rubbing your pussy over the soft material of your leggings.

He pulled his hand away from you as he kissed down your body, the loss of contact making you want to whine, but you held it in. You giggled as you felt his curls tickling you, but once he made it to your leggings and hooked his fingers in them to pull them down, your breathing got a lot heavier.

“You’re sure this is okay?” he asked, as he lifted his head and his eyes connected with yours.

“More than okay,” you said, as he smiled and slid them down your legs.

When Ethan first met you, he never expected to experience anything like this with you. He might’ve let his mind wander there every now and then, because there were a few instances where you’d accidentally made him hard, but this was already better than anything he could’ve ever imagined.

His eyes stayed on your face as he rubbed you over your panties, a groan slipping past his lips once he felt how wet they were. Your eyes were pleading with him, and even though his nerves were kicking in again from the lack of experience, he knew he didn’t have to be nervous to do this with you.

He moved those off your hips and down your legs before he tossed them on the floor, but just as he was leaning down to get settled between your legs, he stopped to look at you.

“If something doesn’t feel good, tell me. Okay?” he asked, as you quickly nodded your head. “Or if you need me to do something different, let me know.”

“I will,” you said, as he smiled at you.

Once his head was in between your legs, he began to slowly lick your clit with the tip of his tongue. One of your hands went to his hair, tangling in the soft brown locks as you let out the softest moans. He knew the sound meant that he wasn’t doing a horrible job, so he really started to get into it. He noticed when he used more pressure, your moans got louder, and you were struggling to keep your hips still.

“Fuck, that feels so good,” you said, your breathing getting heavier as the grip on his hair got a little tighter. “You want to use your fingers, too?”

“How many should I use?” he asked after he pulled away to look at you.

“Start with one,” you said, as he nodded and looked down to see what he was doing.

You were so wet, his long middle finger sliding into you with ease. He slid it in and out of you as he looked back to your face to make sure it felt good.

“Okay…do this,” you said, demonstrating how he needed to move his finger, “There’s this spot that feels really,” you got out, but before you could finish getting your sentence out, he found it. “Fuck, right there. Keep hitting that.”

He did as you said before he leaned back down and gave your clit the attention it needed with his tongue, your moans getting whinier as your legs were tingling from the pleasure you were feeling. He took your clit in his mouth to roll over it with his tongue, and as you shakily praised him, telling him how good of a job he was doing, his cock was throbbing. You felt amazing around that single finger, the thoughts of how it would feel for him to be inside of you only making him even more hard.

“Use-fuck,” you got out, your thoughts getting cloudy as you tried to tell him what you needed. “Two fingers.”

He did as you asked, his ring finger sliding into your pussy. He kept hitting that spongy spot inside of you, and as his tongue moved against you, you felt that special feeling building deep in the pit of your stomach.

“Don’t stop,” you begged, your words making Ethan chuckle because there was no way in hell he was going to.

He softly sucked on your clit, and once he did, your whines got louder and closer together, your toes curling against the sheets as he worked you towards your orgasm.

“Fuck,” you whimpered, as your hips lifted off the bed, your eyebrows furrowing as you felt the white-hot feeling spread across your body.

Your pussy kept tightening around Ethan’s fingers, and he didn’t know when he was supposed to stop, so he didn’t. It only made your orgasm more intense as you tugged on his hair, the feeling making him moan against you.

Once your walls stopped fluttering and your body relaxed, he hesitantly pulled away and slid his fingers out, already missing all the sounds he was pulling from you moments before.

“Was that okay?” he asked, as you hazily looked at him.

“You’ve never done that before?” you asked, your disbelieving stare making him laugh as he shook his head.

“Never.”

“I think you’re lying because there’s no way you just gave me the best orgasm I’ve ever had your first time doing that,” you said, a huge smile appearing on his face at your words.

“The best?” he asked, “I thought I was going to be awful at it.”

“You definitely aren’t,” you said, as you sat up to face him. “What do you want to do next?”

“You said you have condoms, right?” he asked, remembering the conversation he had with you a few weeks before.

“Yeah,” you said, as you slid off the side of the bed. You stood there for a second to get your bearings, because your legs still felt like Jell-O.

You walked over to your dresser and looked through the second drawer, searching for the box that you hid with your socks. You heard Ethan rustling around behind you, the sound of the metal on his belt clanking against the floor letting you know that he was taking his jeans off.

Just as you’d found the box, you felt his arms wrap around you. You smiled as you leaned back against him, enjoying his warmth. That’s when you felt how hard he was, and even though you hadn’t actually seen what he was hiding in the confines of his boxers, you could already tell it certainly wasn’t small.

“Fuck,” he whispered, as you ass brushed against him. “I can’t wait to do this with you.”

“Then let’s do it,” you said, the excitement in your voice making him smile as he pulled away from you. “You wanna be on top?”

“Uh…is that okay?” he asked, as you nodded and laid back on your bed and got comfortable. He slid his boxers down his legs, your eyes growing wide as you looked at him. You could tell he was a little self-conscious when his cheeks turned pink and his hand moved to cover himself.

“Why are you doing that?” you questioned, “You just saw my pussy up close.”

“You were staring at it,” he said, his voice a little shy as you rolled your eyes.

“Yeah, because it’s about to be inside of me,” you said, as you sat up and grabbed his hand, pulling him towards you. You grabbed a condom out of the box and handed it to him as he crawled up on the bed. “Just…be gentle.”

“Okay,” he said, as he opened it and slowly rolled it on.

The expression on his face said he was fully confident in what he was about to do, but his shaky hands said otherwise. You knew it probably wasn’t going to last long, and that was okay. You didn’t want him to feel bad for it, so you were trying to figure out the best way to bring it up.

“Hey,” you said, as his nervous eyes met yours. “I want you to enjoy this, okay? Don’t think you have to last forever. Don’t worry about making me cum again.”

“But…isn’t that bad if I don’t make you cum?” he asked, his nerves fading a little as you smiled at him.

“You just did. I already told you that’s the best orgasm I’ve ever had,” you said, as he lined up with your entrance. “Just take it slow at first.”

“Okay,” he said, as he slowly pushed himself inside of you.

He was already dizzy at the feeling of your tight, wet pussy around his cock, and he felt relieved that he didn’t feel the pressure of making you cum again, because he was sure he wouldn’t be able to. He knew he’d be lucky if he didn’t bust within the first thirty seconds.

Some guys in bed were more vocal than others, and you were wondering what Ethan was going to be. Your question was soon answered when he started to move, and you heard him choking back the whimpers that were so close to pouring from his mouth.

“Don’t be quiet,” you said between your own sounds as he tried to find his rhythm, “I wanna hear you.”

He smiled at your words before his mouth fell open, finally letting you know exactly how good he was feeling. You wrapped your legs around his waist so he could go deeper, and the new angle, plus him hearing all your sounds and seeing all the faces you were making, had his orgasm quickly sneaking up on him.

“Oh fuck,” he whimpered, his breathing shaky as his hips began to falter. “I’m gonna cum.”

You were watching him as that feeling washed over his body, his eyes fluttering as he whined your name. You thought it was the hottest thing ever to see him fall apart so quick, all because of how good your pussy felt for him.

“I swear to god, I’m gonna make this up to you,” he said, as he slid out and laid on the bed beside you as he caught his breath.

“Make it up to me?” you asked, as you moved so your head was resting on his chest. His arm wrapped around you as he held you close. “Don’t feel bad about not making me cum just now.”

“I wanted to, though,” he sighed, “Next time I will.”

“I think after you get used to sex, you’ll have no problem making me cum,” you said, as your fingers traced pattern on his chest. “Especially if you bend me over. Like, all fours, on the bed.”

“You want me to bend you over?” Ethan asked, as you sat up to look at him.

“Mhm,” you hummed, your bottom lip between your teeth at the idea.

Ethan felt the blood rushing straight to his cock again from you mentioning him having you in a position like that, and when you glanced down to see him already half-hard again, you giggled to yourself.

“You forgot to take the condom off,” you said, his eyes growing wide as the blush spread to his cheeks.

“Sorry,” he said, as he slid off the side of your bed. “I couldn’t think straight after that.”

He took the condom off and tossed in in the wastebasket in your room before he walked back over towards you and sat on the bed.

“Uh, it’s totally okay if you don’t want to…but do you want to do it again?” he asked, as he glanced down to see that he was fully hard again. You looked at where his attention was, before his eyes connected with yours.

“Right now?” you asked, your tone playful as he smiled.

“If you want to,” he said, “I wanna know what it feels like to do it in every position.”

“How many days do you have?” you teased, as his eyes grew wide.

“Jesus Christ, how many are there?” he asked, “You know what? Let’s just focus on the basic ones for now.”

You wasted no time to toss another condom to Ethan, because even though you said it was okay for you to not cum the first time, you were craving that release. Well, that, and you loved the feeling of him inside of you.

Your pussy was still soaked as you got into the position on the bed, as he stood on his knees behind you.

“Fuck,” he mumbled, as he slowly pushed himself inside of you.

Ethan started off slow, wanting to pace himself so he wouldn’t cum as quickly as he did before. He had his hand on your hips as he got more into it, pulling them back to meet his thrusts. The position made it easy for him to hit that spot every single time, and you were letting out the softest moans.

When he sped up a little, you relaxed the upper half of your body onto the bed as your ass was stuck up in the air for him, a low groan leaving his mouth at the sight. Even though he was moving your hips, you started to throw them back, your actions giving him the motivation to go faster.

“Oh my god,” you whimpered, your hands clinging to your comforter as you felt that feeling start to build. Your skin was tingling, and you felt tiny little jolts of electricity running through your legs as he brought you closer to the edge.

Ethan knew he was close, but he was trying so hard to fight it off. He was thinking of some of the most depressing things to distract himself from the sounds you were making, and he knew as soon as he looked down at your back, he’d lose it.

You were trying to tell him how good everything felt, but that got a lot harder once it became difficult for you to even think of what you wanted to say. You were so close, right on the edge when you felt one of his hands that was on your hips move in between your legs, his fingers rubbing quick circles on your swollen bundle of nerves.

“Cumming,” you whimpered against your bed. Your pussy kept clenching and releasing Ethan’s cock, a low moan flying out of his mouth at the feeling.

“Fuck, baby. Me too.”

As you and Ethan laid in your bed talking about all the dates he wanted to take you on, places he wanted to take you to see, he had a realization.

“Ya know, I never asked you to be my girlfriend,” he said, as his hands ran over your back.

“You don’t have to. I’m already yours,” you said, as you sat up to kiss him.

“I never thought this would happen,” he sighed, a smile on his face as he lazily closed his eyes.

“What?” you questioned, as he opened his eyes and sat up, too.

“All of this. I never thought we’d be anything more than friends. I never thought Sam would be okay with it. I never thought I’d lose my virginity,” he said, the last part making you laugh as you rolled your eyes.

“Maybe you didn’t lose it before because you were supposed to do it with me,” you teased, as he mimicked your eyeroll.

“I also never expected it to happen twice in one night,” he said, as he bit his bottom lip, his eyes getting darker the longer he stared at you.

“Don’t look at me like that unless you want to go for round three,” you said, before he pushed you back on the bed.

“Okay, but you’re on top this time.”

[lee-laurent]

Under the Radar - Matthew Tkachuk

Summary: Matthew Tkachuk elopes with his secret lover, the biggest issue... she's Luke Hughes' twin sister.

Content: marriage, secret relationship, age gap (it's legal!!), angst, unsupportive family, mentions of sex, fighting, physical violence (not between couple!)

WC: 3.45k

notes: i listened to "Archie, Marry Me" by Alvvays on repeat while writing this and "Please Please Please" cause that's how freya feels about matt here lol i've been watching the stanley cup finals and my love for matt tkachuk has grown hehe enjoy!! :D obviously idk anyone in this story personally, so it's all for the drama !!

Freya giggled as Matthew placed kisses on her exposed shoulder. She was standing in front of the full body mirror in her boyfriend's room, flattening out the silky white dress that she'd chosen for the occasion. The white silk fell mid thigh and had small slit on the left side, a small bow adorned the corseted top.

"Fuck, you look stunning, love," Matt whispered in her ear, goosbumps forming on the back of her neck.

"I just need to do my hair, then we can head out," Freya smiled, giving Matthew a quick peck as she walked into his bathroom. He followed her, watching as she took the heated curling iron and spun a piece of her dirty blonde hair around it. After finishing some loose curls and setting them with hair spray, Freya did a once over in the mirror.

"What d'you think, Matty?"

"Hottest girl on this planet," he smirked, trailing kisses along her neck.

"Stop! We've gotta get to the courthouse."

"Right, right. But after..."

"Matt!"

"We've gotta consummate the marriage, Frey."

She giggled, hiding her face in his neck. He placed a kiss to her head, spinning her around so he could admire them in the mirror. She grabbed her phone, snapping a quick mirror pic.

"That one's getting framed," she nodded, zooming on her boyfriend's face.

"Are you sure you don't want me to shave? Just for the photos?" Matt offered.

"No! The scruff is soooo hot! Jess said we have to look hot for our photos!"

"Okay, okay. Can't believe Jess knows we're getting married, but our families don't."

"We'll tell them when it's time. Plus, Jess is good at keeping secrets."

That was true. Freya's best friend, Jessica, had been keeping the couple's relationship a secret for a year and a half now. The girls had met at University of Miami two years before and had been best friends ever since.

"You got your ring?" Matthew asked, placing the small velvet box in his suit jack.

"Yes, sir! I'm so excited!"

"Me too, baby. Can't wait for you to be Mrs. Tkachuk."

"Sounds so hot when you say it," she flirted, placing a hand on his lapel.

He winked, "Sit on the bed. I'll help you with your heels."

Freya complied, bouncing as she sat down. Matt grabbed the strappy, white heels from his closet. He guided her feet into them, gently doing up the buckles. She ran a hand through his hair, fixing it the way she liked it.

"Shall we, Future Mrs. Tkachuk?"

"We shall," she giggled, interlocking their arms as they walked to the parking garage.

"And Miss Hughes, do you take Matthew Tkachuk to be your lawfully wedded husband?" the man behind the counter asked.

"I do," she beamed, holding Matt's hands tightly in her own.

"Do you, Mr. Tkachuk, take Freya Hughes to be your lawfully wedded wife?"

"I do."

"You may now kiss the bride."

The couple met in a sweet kiss, not wanting it to be too long in the public courthouse.

"If you'll both just sign here and here," the man smiled, sliding the paper and pen towards the couple. "Pefect! You two are now legally married. Congratulations!"

Freya's smile was so wide, it hurt her cheeks. She was practically jumping as they exited the building. Matthew was smiling just as brightly, tightly gripping onto his wife's waist.

"Jess!" Freya exclaimed, throwing her arms around her best friend.

"There's Mrs. Tkachuk! Always knew you two would end up together, Frey. I've been telling you since we met," Jess whispered. Freya blushed, pushing her best friend.

"Let's go take some photos!" Matthew guided the girls into his car, driving them down to a small, very private park. They snapped some cute photos together, before Jess handed Freya a bottle of champagne. She shook it, spraying the alcohol all over herself and her husband. Jess got some amazing candids of the couple, especially as they met in a passionate kiss that she snapped a few shots of.

"Enjoy your wedding night!" Jess shouted, waving goodbye.

Freya couldn't stop giggling as they entered Matt's bedroom, "We're married! I'm married to the love of my life!"

"Did you chug a bunch of that champagne when I wasn't looking? Or are you just drunk on love?" Matt teased.

"Matt! We're married!"

"I know, love! Freya Tkachuk. God, that sounds so hot," his voice was gruff as he pulled her on top of him on the bed.

"I love you so much," she pressed kisses all over his face.

"I love you too, Frey. Now... shall we make this marriage official," he smirked, placing his hands on her hips.

"Any cute boys at school?" Ellen asked.

"What? No, Mom. I told you I'm focusing on my degree," Freya giggled, helping her mom to make dinner. They were at the cottage that Quinn and Jack had purchased. The Hughes family had invited the Tkachuks for a weekend and Freya was desperately trying to hide her excitement, having not seen her husband in just over a month.

"I know, I know. Just thought maybe some would've caught your eye. Who knows... maybe when Luke's friends come you'll find one of them cute."

"Mom!"

"Sorry, sorry. But, Luke told me that Dylan's little brother is single."

"MOM!"

Ellen laughed, continuing to cut up the fruit in front of her.

"We're home!" Quinn shouted, placing his keys in the bowl in the front hall. Ellen quickly wiped her hands off, running to meet their guests.

"Chantal! Keith! How've you been?"

The two families immediately started chatting away, Freya biting her lip when she saw Matt wink at her. She was pulled into a conversation with Chantal about school and if Matt had helped her out at all while living in Flordia.

"Oh, yeah. He always asks if I need anything. I even went to a few games first semester," she smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Look at that ring! So cute! Where'd you get it?" Taryn squealed.

"My best friend Jess bought it for me!" Freya lied. That was the excuse that the couple had come up with. Matt had 'bought his own ring' and 'Jess' had bought Freya's.

"It's beautiful! Could be a wedding ring!"

"Yeah. She's the best."

"You live with Jess?" Chantal asked.

"Yeah, yeah. We've lived together this past year."

"Before we get too far into conversation, let's show everyone their rooms," Ellen smiled, unknowingly saving Freya from crafting more lies.

After a dinner full of catching up, Matt and Freya sat around the fire with the rest of the kids. The adults had called it a night an hour before, but the young adults were still buzzing with excitement. Freya was clasping a seltzer between her hands, sitting between her twin and Taryn.

"No boyfriend?" Taryn asked, taking a sip of her White Claw.

"Hm? I'm too focused on school."

"Lukey's been trying to set her up with Tyler Duke, but she's not interested," Quinn snorted from beside Brady.

"He's just... not my type."

"Not your type? Tyler is like the definition of your type, Frey! Curly haired, hockey player? You'd marry him on the spot if you hadn't convinced yourself you're focused on your studies," Luke laughed.

Freya's eyes looked around the fire, meeting with Matt's, who had his eyebrow quirked.

"Tell us more about this Tyler kid," he mused, taking a long drink from his beer.

"He's a sophmore at Umich. Is madly in love with Freya and has been since I started doing hockey with Dylan. They even kissed when they were like 14."

"Luke! Stop!" Freya hid her face in her hands. Matthew looked unimpressed, chugging the rest of his beer, before cracking open another one.

"Maybe Freya doesn't like younger guys," Jack joked, making Matthew cover his smirk with his new drink.

"Can we stop talking about my love life? Please!"

"It's okay, Frey. Matt's is just as sad," Brady joked, patting his older brother on the back.

"What can I say? Baby brother got married before me, and all my hopes and dreams went down the drain," Matt retorted, staring directly at Freya. She swallowed harshly, now reaching for another drink. She couldn't do this sober.

After the awkward conversation about her love life, or lack there of, Freya was silent. She didn't want to accidentally say something to out the face that she was married at 20, especially with all the alcohol running through her system. It wasn't until the next day that things really went down hill.

Everyone was paying Quinn to get more alcohol for that night. Matt opened his wallet when a photo fell out, not noticing he fished out a ten dollar bill and handed it to the eldest Hughes. Luke bent down, grabbing the photo that had fallen on the floor. His brow furrowed as he studied the image. His sister in a Panthers jersey, her arms wrapped around a sweaty looking Matt.

"What's wrong, Rusty?" Jack laughed, "What's that?"

Luke handed the photo to his brother, who also took a moment to study it.

"Is that Freya?"

"What're we looking at?" Freya smiled, pushing her way between her brothers. Her face fell, "Where'd you get that?"

"Matt dropped it," Luke's eyes narrowed at his sister.

"Oh. Hm, that's... huh," she trailed off.

"Quinn! Come look at this!" Jack waved over his brother, who was chatting with Brady. Matt had disappeared off to the kitchen to talk to Jim.

"Why? Oh... Frey?" Quinn shot her a questioning look after being handed the photo.

"Why's everyone so upset? We're friends," she tried to smile.

"Then why's it in his wallet?" Luke sneered.

"Because... we're really good friends?" she shrugged, sounding unsure of herself.

Quinn huffed, pushing the photo into Jack's chest. He stormed off to the kitchen, followed by the rest of the kids. He harshly pushed Matt, making the taller boy stumble.

"Wow. What the hell, Quinn?" Matt turned around.

"You're fucking my little sister?! She's barely legal, Matthew! And you're fucking 26!"

"Quinn," Ellen warned, but her son didn't listen. He pushed Matt again, this time getting a shove in return.

"I don't know what the hell you're talking about, but you need to calm the fuck down," Matt attempted to keep his composure, knowing he could easily overpower the Hughes' boy.

"Don't even pretend to be innocent! You've been sleeping with Freya!"

"Freya? What's Quinn talking about, dear?" Ellen asked, moving away from the boys.

"I- I don't know, Mom."

"Bullshit! Look at this, Mom!" Jack handed the photo over. Ellen looked it over, a confused expression covering her face. She met Freya's pleading eyes, biting her bottom lip.

The fight between Quinn and Matt was escalating. After a particularly harsh push from Quinn, Matthew tackled him to the floor. The kitchen broke out into hysterics. Everyone was shouting, telling the boys to stop. Freya had started to cry, Taryn holding onto her tightly. Even if Taryn was a little upset she didn't know about her childhood friend's relationship with her brother, she was still going to support her.

"Enough!" Jim's voice broke through the noise, he and Keith wrangled Mattew off Quinn. "Everyone in the living room, now!"

Freya stood next to Taryn, her shoulders shaking with sobs. Quinn and Luke were fuming. Jack appeared to be a bit upset, but he wasn't as protective over his little sister.

"Someone, please, explain what the hell is going on here!" Jim boomed.

"Matt's been taking advantage of Freya!" Quinn exclaimed.

"Matthew," Chantal looked towards her oldest.

"He- he's not taking advantage of me," Freya wiped her nose on the sleeve of her hoodie.

"Let's hear what Matthew and Freya have to say before we jump to conclusions," Ellen mediated.

"I-" Freya started.

"We're married," Matthew cut her off. Silence filled the room.

"You're what?!" Jim asked, anger covering his face.

"We- we got married at the end of the semester," Freya explained, more tears leaving her eyes. Taryn rubbed her back comfortingly.

"Why?! Are you pregnant?!" Chantal gasped.

"No, Mom. She's not pregnant. We- we love each other."

"She's 20!" Luke yelled.

"This... this does seem a bit sudden, Frey," Jack mumbled.

"No! Matthew and I are in love!" Freya sobbed, standing up and moving towards him. Jim stopped her before she could, handing her over to her mother.

"I think it's best you leave, Matthew," Jim sighed, rubbing his forehead.

"You're kicking my son out for being in love?!" Chantal screeched, "No way!"

"She's practically still a teenager!" Quinn retorted.

"She's an adult! And they made an adult decision. Although, I would've appreciated an invite."

"It was private, Mom. Just us at the courthouse."

"You got fucking eloped to him?!" Quinn growled at his sister. She sobbed harder, hiding her face in her mom's shoulder.

"I think it's best if we all leave," Keith sighed, patting Jim on the back.

"No! Matty," Freya cried, but Ellen pulled her back.

"Shh, love. It's okay," she cooed, running a hand through Freya's hair.

Matthew nodded solemnly. And just like that the Tkachuks were gone.

"Freya, why did you think it was a good idea to get eloped?" Jim asked, sitting across from his daughter at the table.

"I- I love him. We just... it felt right."

"We... we just would've liked to know, Frey. That's a big decision to make."

"I know, Mom. I'm sorry. We were just happy living in our own little world. We were going to tell everyone later."

"We're happy that you're happy, Freya. You just need to get your brothers to feel the same way. I'm sorry for kicking Matthew out, I just didn't want the boys to fight anymore. And it is Quinn's house," Jim sighed.

"Thanks, Dad. It's okay. I'm sure Matt understands. I love you guys."

"We love you too, Freya," Ellen smiled, pulling her daughter in for a hug.

Freya knocked on Quinn's door, getting an exasperated "WHAT?!" in response.

"It's Frey. Can we talk?"

"I'm not sure I want to," Quinn replied.

"Come on, Quinn. Hear me out."

"Fine. Come in."

Freya sat on the edge of her brother's bed, him sitting next to her. The air in the room felt thick, and it made her anxiety even worse.

"I'm- Freya, I just want to understand what your thought process was when you decided to get married to a guy you've been with for a year."

"I'm in love. Don't people say love makes you do dumb things?"

"He's 26."

"I know. But I'm an adult too. It isn't illegal. And it's not like I married some random guy. You know Matt. You've known Matt forever."

"Doesn't mean I'm happy about it. Are you sure this wasn't a shotgun wedding?"

"I'm not pregnant! We're always safe when we-"

"I don't want to hear about your sex life. Especially your sex life with Matthew Tkachuk," Quinn groaned. "But I guess I'm relieved you aren't pregnant."

"Yeah, me too," she giggled.

"Look, I'll get over this, Frey. I just need time. I'm your big brother and I'll always love you, but... I don't know how to feel about this."

"But it has nothing to do with you, Quinn. It's my life. I decided to get married."

"Nothing to do with me? Freya, you're my little sister. And you kept this secret from the whole family. I'm pretty sure I'm allowed to be pissed! Especially when you married my best friend's older brother!"

"I- I'm sorry, Quinn. I'll give you the time. But please remember that I... I am an adult."

"I know, Freya. I know. I- I love you."

"Love you too, Quinn."

"Cracking Luke isn't going to be this easy. He's really upset," Quinn sighed.

Freya entered Luke's room, "Leave."

"Luke."

"No. Leave. I don't want to see you."

"Luke-"

"Leave, Freya! I don't want to talk to you! You betrayed my trust."

"I'm not leaving, Luke."

He sat up in his bed and if looks could kill, Freya would be dead.

"Fine. You want to hear what I have to say? I'm pissed. I am so fucking mad at you. You're my twin! You... you've always told me everything! And I tell you everything! Then I have to find out through a photo that you're not even just dating Matthew Tkachuk... you're married to the fucking guy! Would've been nice to know! Like I don't know... when you started TALKING TO HIM!"

"Luke-"

"No, Freya. I don't want to hear your side of things. Leave. NOW!"

Freya returned to her room with tears in her eyes, clicking on Matt's contact and holding her phone up to her ear.

"Hey, baby. Everything okay?"

"Mom and Dad are happy for us. Quinn said he'll get over it. I don't think Jack even cares. But Luke... Luke is really mad at me. I don't think he's been this mad since I broke his Sidney Crosby mini stick when we were kids."

"I- I can come get you, love. Go for a little drive."

"I want to go home, Matty."

"Home? Like Florida?"

"Yes," she sobbed.

"Okay... okay, baby. We can do that. I-"

"Come get me."

"Okay, yeah. I'm coming. I love you, Freya."

"I love you too, Matt."

A week later, Freya felt like she could finally breathe. Matt wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her back flush against his chest. He rocked them back and forth, whispering sweet nothings into her ear.

"I love you."

"I love you too. You wanna get ready for bed? It's been a long couple of days."

She shook her head, spinning to wrap her arms around his neck.

"What do you want, Frey? Anything you want."

"You," she whispered, meeting their lips in a sweet kiss.

The next morning, Freya woke up to her phone ringing repeatedly.

"Hello?" she answered sleepily. Matthew groaned, rolling over and pulling her body closer to his.

"Hey, Frey! Luke's kind of miserable. D'you think you could talk to him?" Jack's voice broke through the speaker.

"Um... he said he doesn't want to talk to me."

"Who is it?" Matt mumbled.

"He's just being dumb! Frey, you're his best friend in the whole world. He's all mopey without you."

"Then he can apologize for yelling at me and then I'll think about it."

"Frey-"

"Now if you don't mind, I'm trying to enjoy my alone time with my husband."

"Ew-"

Freya hung up, placing her phone back on the nightstand. Matt sighed, throwing her leg over his hip. He buried his head in her neck, his breathing falling into a steady pattern as he fell back asleep. Freya couldn't sleep though, she just wanted Luke to accept that she was happy, why was it so hard for him?

Luke had typed the message to his sister out at least 15 times, but he couldn't find the words to describe how he was feeling. Quinn and Jack, with the help of their parents, had talked some sense into him. He understood that he had the right to be upset with Freya, but he had taken it too far. Now, he just needed his apology to seem sincere and heartfelt.

"Just tell her exactly how you feel," Jack shrugged.

"Ew, you're making it sound like I'm confessing my feelings to a girl."

Jack rolled his eyes, "Shut up, Luke. Just text our fucking sister."

Hey, Freya. I know I shouldv'e done this sooner, but the way I reacted to the news of you and Matt was immature and unfair to you. You were already feeling so much stress and I just added to that. I have the right to be a little upset, but you're right... you don't have to tell me everything. I love you, Frey. Text me when you see this

When Freya saw that text, she couldn't wipe the smile from her face. Rolling over and pressing kisses all over Matthew's exposed skin.

"Hm," he groaned, "What's got you in such a good mood?"

"Luke apologized! Everyone is happy for us!"

"That's good. Now sleep. You look exhausted, babe."

"I can't sleep now! Everything is the way I always wanted it to be!"

"Mmm, yeah. That's awesome, Frey."

"Matty! This is the best!"

He laughed, watching sleepily as she straddled his waist. He placed his hands on her hips, running his thumbs over the smooth skin.

"I'm happy that you're happy, baby."

"I'm so happy! Almost as happy as when we got married," she smirked.

"Nothing can top that."

And with that Freya leaned forward and connected their lips. Morning breath or not this was the man she loved, and now she could share him with the world.

[forsworned]

Okay, okay, hear me out . I neeed a y/n sweet innocent thing who works with 141 (probably computer shit) idk but she wanted to step out her shell & goes out drinking with the boys were she loses a bet with soap & he makes y/n wear a skimpy outfit like those " hot nurse or maid" outfits around the team for a day and it makes price and/or ghost go absolutely feral . The end. Please and thank you p s love your writing.

Author's note: You know normally I do not do these sort of requests because I think that the whole like oh y/n needs to dress in something slutty because she lost a bet schtick is like somewhat demeaning. Like I'm all for it happening to the 141 or whatever but, I put my own spin on it, so even if you don't enjoy it I will but thank you for supporting me anon <3 also screaming at the images I chose for this hahaha

Despite the fact that being in the military was a constant inner battle of not becoming a barrack bunny, it made it a bit easier knowing that 90% of the men were just straight-up fucking whores. So when you lose 7-6 in back-to-back rounds of Blackjack to Johnny, he thinks it's funny to propose a bet that leaves you practically bare-ass naked to every soldier on base.

"'ll be like wearin' a bikini." He says.

To which you can give him a piercing glare that sends an unpleasant shudder up his spine, but regardless he's laughing his ass off. It's not exactly an everyday occurrence that Johnny is winning bets against you so he's taking advantage of the opportunity to embarrass you just as much as you do him.

Wolf whistles and cat calls are heard from the common area that the 141 was currently lounging in, and their ears perk up at the sound of heels clicking against the floor.

"Hell's fuckin' bells, you really wore it, bonnie." Johnny eyes are twinkling and his grin is stretched from ear to ear when he gets a gander at you.

You're wearing the sluttiest maid outfit you could have ever conjured up from many, many, many Halloween's ago when you were in your Chicks Gone Wild Era (iykyk) and Price, Kyle and Simon are flabbergasted by your appearance. Kyle is dropping his spoon that he just stirred his coffee with, Simon is half turning the page to his book and Price just straight up chokes on his London Fog, sputtering it all over his MacBook.

"Fuck you." You mutter, plopping down on the couch next to Simon as you readjust the mobcap on your head. Your dress is riding up as you sit, but you cross your legs and Price is handing you a pillow to cover yourself up to which you sheepishly smile up at him and thank him.

"Why are ye complainin'? Y'look good, bonnie."

"You put her up to this?" Kyle asks, bewildered at the situation unfolding.

"Lookin' good, Serg!" A passing herd of soldiers call out to you as they chuckle amongst themselves and continue to whistle at you.

You shake your head and turn to Johnny with an exasperated look. "Is this what you wanted? To embarrass me?"

"It's not very becoming of you, Johnny." Price murmurs against his mug before taking a sip but it's evident that his face is reddening by the second by your scanty appearance.

"Oh, she does it to me all th' time!" Johnny throws his hands up in half frustration and half amusement.

But Simon on the other hand is silent. He doesn't really know what to say, but he's starting to feel the warmth rushing between his legs.

"L.t., thoughts?"

And Johnny knows exactly what the fuck he's doing while he's shooting him that shit-eating grin that makes Simon want to fucking bumrush the absolute shit out of the Scotsman.

Admittedly this has Kyle and Price's tongues poking their cheeks as they await his answer.

"Y'r a fuckin' slag, Johnny."

And that causes the room to erupt into laughter as you're all clapping your knees and keeling over. Johnny is slightly embarrassed by the jab, but nonetheless, is laughing along. It was nice to have a little laugh in the 141.