#I have never been so mad over a class in my LIFE

[ra1npo3t]

I'm actually going to loose my shit if we don't get a new religion teacher next year.

[lightblueminecraftorchid]

My roommate and I had a conversation last night and I keep rotating it in my brain and I Don’t Like It

[timminear]

this week is rlly pissing me off for reasons that are fully self inflicted

[transgirltrish]

.

[chilledstrawberrysoda]

Do you ever just get really hung up on small injustices in your past that aren't THAT big of a deal but we're so pivotal to who you are as a person and felt like the end of the world at the time and everything turned out okay but you still get caught up on the what if of it all occasionally and mourn the person you may have been?

[luna-azzurra]

Ways I Write a Woman...

➤ Who’s Tired of Being Talked Over

You ever watch someone hold in a scream behind their teeth? That’s her, constantly.

✧ She starts choosing her words like landmines. Each one is sharp, controlled, and timed like a threat. She’s learned that being polite won’t get her listened to, but sounding like you might flip a table will. ✧ She’s mastered the art of the silence that feels loud. Doesn’t fill awkward gaps. Just lets the discomfort sit in the air like smoke. ✧ She explains things with forced calm, the kind that sounds like a teacher asking a second-grade class why the hamster is missing. ✧  She notices interruptions like bruises. She doesn’t react to them anymore, not out loud. But you can bet she counts them. ✧ She repeats herself less. Not because they understood her the first time. Because they never listened anyway. ✧ She’s learned how to weaponize eye contact. Not in a sexy way. In a “I will set this boardroom on fire with my mind” way. ✧ Her voice only shakes when she’s deciding if it’s worth the explosion.

➤ Who’s Been Called ‘Too Much’ Her Whole Life

She isn’t too much. She’s just tired of shrinking for people who were never going to make room anyway.

✧ She says the thing you’re not supposed to say. Then stares at you to see what you’ll do with it. ✧ She’s loud with her laugh, loud with her grief, loud with her love, because if she’s going to be punished for being “extra,” she might as well be honest about it. ✧ She over-explains. Over-apologizes. Then catches herself and stops halfway through the sentence. ✧  She tries to “tone it down” and ends up sounding like a censored version of herself, bland, miserable, unfinished. ✧ She edits her texts four times, deletes the paragraph, sends “haha ok :)” instead. ✧ She keeps her hands busy because otherwise they’d be doing something reckless. ✧  She overcompensates with sarcasm and then goes home and wonders if everyone hates her. ✧  She’s loved fiercely. Regretted it more fiercely. ✧  She walks into a room like she owns it, and then spends the entire time wondering if she should have stayed home.

➤ Who Wants to Be Soft but Doesn’t Feel Safe

She's gentle, but that gentleness lives under twenty layers of armor. And most people never even get past the first. ✧  She’s careful with her compliments, she knows how people weaponize kindness. ✧  She keeps her vulnerability behind locked doors and guards them with jokes, sarcasm, and “I’m just tired.” ✧ She’ll comfort others like she was born to do it, but flinch if someone offers her the same. ✧ She avoids mirrors on bad days. Eye contact on good ones. ✧ She cries where no one can see. Car bathrooms. Locked bedrooms. Grocery store parking lots at night. ✧ She doesn’t ask for help. Not because she doesn’t need it, but because the last time she did, it came with a price. ✧ She’s soft with animals, with children, with strangers, but not herself. Never herself. ✧ She daydreams about being taken care of, then immediately gets mad at herself for wanting something so “weak.” ✧ She wants love, but she’s terrified of being known. Because if someone really saw her? What if they didn’t stay?

And if you’re sitting there reading all of that thinking, “God, I don’t even know how to write women like this…” Please know: you’re not alone. Like, really not alone.

Writing female characters in a way that feels true, nuanced, and unapologetically real isn’t just about avoiding clichés. It’s about unlearning everything you were taught about what women are “supposed” to be on the page. It’s about getting underneath the polish. Past the performative strength. Past the “she’s not like other girls” and the “strong but broken” tropes. Past the idea that softness is weakness and rage is unlikable.

So many people struggle with this, not because they don’t care, but because no one ever really taught them how to see women as people first.

A lot of us grew up reading female characters written through a lens that flattened us. Made us background noise, love interests, plot devices, or emotionally bulletproof when we weren’t emotionally unstable. It’s no wonder we’re all trying to figure out how to do better now. I write a Book about How to Write Women that feel Alive... For you.

In the chapters ahead, we’re going to unravel that mess, together (Promise). We’ll talk about...

❥ Tropes — the ones worth reclaiming, and the ones you can toss into the fire. ❥ The psychology of a woman — how conditioning, survival, identity, and inner conflict shape her from the inside out. ❥ Female vs. male conflict — not in a “boys suck” way, but in a “our emotional battlegrounds are different and that matters” way. ❥ Expectations — society’s, her own, and how characters shrink or shatter under them. ❥ Emotions as strength — especially the ones she was taught to hide: fear, grief, longing, joy, rage. ❥ Female anger — what happens when she finally stops holding it in. ❥ Archetypes — and how to subvert them without erasing the truths they come from. ❥ Female friendships — no more cardboard “bestie” side characters. ❥ Romantic relationships — what it means when she’s finally seen. Chosen. Or rejected. ❥Mothers, daughters, and sisters — because female relationships deserve more than being backstory. ❥ Dialogue — how she speaks when she’s safe vs. when she’s scared. ❥ Inner conflict and development — her arc isn’t about fixing her. It’s about letting her evolve. ❥ Writing exercises — to help you get past the noise and write from a place that feels real. ❥ A full checklist for writing female OCs — layered, powerful, contradictory, alive.

This isn’t a rulebook. It’s a guide. A toolbox. A comfort blanket. A callout. A reminder that writing women doesn’t have to feel impossible, you just have to be willing to look a little deeper.

So if you’ve ever felt stuck writing a female character… If you’ve defaulted to tropes because you didn’t know how else to make her “interesting”… If you’ve erased her emotions to make her “strong”… Or if you’ve stared at the page wondering why she still doesn’t feel real...This book is for you.

And I promise, by the time you reach the last chapter? You’ll not only know how to write her. You’ll understand her. And maybe even see a little of yourself in the process.

Love u All!!🖤

[nezuscribe]

life as a hit man was dirty but simple, and gojo preferred keeping it that way. he didn’t know his clients names, they didn’t know his. he’d send over proof of his work, they’d wire in the money. dirty, yet simple.

so when he gets a message to kill the daughter of some oil tycoon, he doesn’t think much about it. sure he thinks it’s cheap to go for the kid, but what does he know. this is the most he’s ever been offered for a one shot job, so he’s not an idiot to turn this offer down.

and unfortunately, that meant his next confirmed target was you.

he gets your information, where you go to school, what apartment building you live in, where you like to eat. usually he prefers a straight shot to the head, but sometimes sneaking in something to your food lets him off easier.

gojo gets to know your routine. what you do at what time. what shows you watch, what your favorite sweater is. he watches from the high rises that faces yours, crouching down so none of your bodyguards could see the reflection of the magnifier of his rifle.

and gojo is used to taking out a wide range of people. men, women, grandpas, aunts. it’s just business to him. but there’s something about you that makes him hesitate to pull the trigger.

maybe it’s the fact that the weeks he’s spent trailing after you he’s noticed you’re pretty much a loner. you keep to yourself, never bothering anyone. you don’t seem to have my friends in your classes, or even out of them. gojo never questions to morals of his clients or who they ask him to kill, but judging you so far you seem to have done…nothing wrong.

you treat the old lady who works in the convenience story with such kindness that gojo wonders if you were born into this level of wealth, because most people of your status treat those beneath them like ants. you always hold the door open for your body guards despite them insisting they do it for you. you always buy some food for the stray cats in the alley you pass, and you never yell when you’re on the phone with your dad, even though gojo tracks those calls and feels the need to yell for you.

it all comes to a moment when you’re at your favorite coffee shop (he knows this because you come here so often), and you’ve managed to weasel away from your bodyguards. he knows they must be freaking out by now, but you just want some alone time.

he’s right there, right behind you, the little pouch of his condition of drugs that instantly kill in his pocket ready, and you turn around with your coffee cup and bump into him.

your eyes seen, letting out a shocked gasp as the iced drink stains his shirt and pants, the cup not empty on the floor.

“oh my god, oh my god,” you stutter out, scrambling to find some napkins, “i’m so so sorry! i didn’t even see you there - gosh,” you shove some napkins into his hands, trying to dapple the coffee away but it does nothing to help, “i can’t believe…!” you trail off, the two of you moving out of line so you don’t hold the others up and your shaking your head in dismay, mad at your clumsiness.

“it’s alright,” he assures you, waving it off as his eyes take in your appearance. “don’t even worry about it, accidents happen.” it’s the first time he’s seen you this close, and he feels that pouch growing heavier in his pocket.

because you’re pretty. really pretty. and he likes the plush of your cheeks, the scrunch of your brows, the way you’re nearly gnawing your lip raw. you seem even prettier in person, and there’s a lump forming in his chest, something he’s never felt before.

“no, no,” you murmur, trying to find the tide pen in your bag, only to realize you left it at home, “and it’s stained too, fuck. i am so sorry about this, you probably have somewhere to be and…” your words trail off as you scramble for your wallet, pulling out some cash as you push it into his hands.

it’s more than he needs to replace the shirt and pants, probably enough to buy him a couple pairs from ralph lauren, but you still seem to think it’s not enough as you look for more.

“it’s no worries at all, i keep an extra of shirts in my car for emergencies like this,” gojo lies smoothly and you look up from your purse, eyes wide in shame. fuck he really likes your eyes too.

“no, please take it, it’ll be on my mind all day if you don’t,” you insist, but he’s shaking his head defiantly, a reassuring smile on his face as he hands the money back to you.

“and it’ll be on my conscience all day if i take it,” he promises you, and after you realize he’s not going to retract his hands you take the cash, shoving it back into your wallet as heat settles all over your body.

of course with your luck you spill coffee all over the most attractive man you’ve ever met.

you still look worried, finding another napkin as you take out a pen from your purse, messily writing something down.

“this is my contact information if you ever need me to replace your clothes,” you hand it over to the man with an apologetic smile, “please don’t hesitate to call me, i know stains and that’s gonna be really hard to get out,” you go to say something else but your eyes dart to the large windows behaubd him, catching sight of your body guards who seem to have seen you, and your face falls.

“i’m really sorry, again, but i have to go,” you mutter as you speed off, waving goodbyes to the stranger as you duck your head down and leave the coffee shop, not wanting to cause another scene as three buff men race in to find you.

gojo stands there almost in a haze, looking at his stained white shirt to the napkin with your number and name on it.

almost as if he didn’t already know it, almost as if you weren’t the girl he’s supposed to kill.

and in that moment he realizes how screwed he is, because he’d rather down that packet right there than shoot you down, and he’s never felt this dread before.

[monzabee]

park avenue polyanna (social media au) - mv1

masterlist ||

Summary: The one where everyone is confused how Max, the resident villain of f1, has such a wholesome girlfriend.

Pairing: max verstappen x gallerist!reader (model used: random people i've found on the internet)

Warnings: none other than some cursing

Author note: okaaaaay, this is kinda all over the place but to be completely fair, i started it like a month ago and i finished it right after the singapore gp, so it has been a while, lol. miss charlotte york is here (my personal fav alongside samantha), so i hope you guys enjoy this one as wel!! we have one more to go, and boy is that one going to be fun to work on!

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms.

yourusername just posted a story!

yourusername

Liked by maxverstappen1, yourbestfriendsinstagram, f1wagss and 34,826 others.

yourusername: would %100 recommend pilates if you want to make a grown f1 driver cry because he can't handle the stretching!

user: please tell me there is video evidence of max doing reformer

yourusername: i can neither confirm nor deny these allegations against my beloved boyfriend

yourusername: but if i had to, the answer would be yes, yes i do

user: I LOVE YOU YOU ARE A NATIONAL TREASURE

user: she is probably the nicest people on earth and i can't, for the life of me understand how she and max are in a relationship

user: maybe we should stop assuming people's personalities and also speculate about their relationships bestie

yourusername: period!

user: thank you for giving us the best content on this app, queen

user: i will pay thousands and millions to see max verstappen do pilates

user: everybody say thank you yn for the best piece of information ever

view all 2,647 comments.

user: i just know some of the drivers on the grid are going to have so much fun with this brand new piece of information

maxverstappen1: not so simply lovely🙄

yourusername: but you were sooo cute

yourusername just posted a story!

yourusername

Liked by maxverstappen1, elleusa, f1gossipworld and 39,267 others.

yourusername: mandatory busy week recap

user: nothing to see here just subtly flexing her chanel kelly on us (i love you queen you're so iconic)

user: omg she works??

user: stop this right now you're embarrassing yourself

yourusername: i wish i didn't need to work but gotta feed the kids, you know? (max, the cats and my dog)

user: she might be the busiest girl in the world, but one thing about yn is that she is NEVER missing that pilates class

maxverstappen1: come back hoooooome

yourusername: soooooon

view all 3,456 comments.

user: i can feel it, she's going to be in singapore

user: manifesting this for the looks

yourusername

Liked by f1wagsupdates, maxverstappen1, yourbestie and 43,2647 others.

yourusername: lesson from this weekend: kill them with kindness, or in our case, with a no comment interview!

user: the look on max's face is so telling of the situation

yourusername: nothing a bunch of cuddles can't fix!!

user: this relationship is the proof that opposites, in fact, attract

user: i can't believe we got a max mention before gta 6

user: oh to be wearing vintage chanel and dating max verstappen

user: she is who i wanna be when i grow up (i'm 23)

view all 5,253 comments.

maxverstappen1: no comment

yourusername: not disappointed and not surprised

maxverstappen1

Liked by yourusername, redbullracing, landonorris and 601,3674 others.

maxverstappen1: i don't know what you are talking about i'm always nice

user: the duality of men

user: mad max to gentleman pipeline is actually insane

yourusername: can confirm that you are VERY nice

maxverstappen1: simply lovely

user: okay but are we winning the championship oooor??

view all 10,273 comments.

user: MAX VERSTAPPEN IN A SUIT, I REPEAT, MAX VERSTAPPEN IN A SUIT

user: this relationship confuses me a lot but i also love it so much

user: it's giving grumpy x sunshine to the extreme extents and i love it

[caffeinewitchcraft]

WIBTA for going to my high school reunion even though the two witches I stripped of magic are going?

(Read for free on Patreon (X))

I (28 witch) was in a coven during high school. Not really even a coven. We weren’t recognized and there wasn’t a clear division of responsibilities. We did have a high priestess but she hadn’t Declared or been Initiated or whatever she believed. Looking back, her learning was all over the place (and a little problematic, honestly. I remember her calling a poppet a Voodoo doll before being called out by another member). Let’s call her Sarah.

Sarah was a year older than the rest of us (still the same grade though) and her mom was a witch so that made her the high priestess. She was the one who would organize all of our rituals and held the power of veto over any proposed spells. While you think that’d mean she’d provide the ingredients, she never did. She did tell us what to buy and, let me tell you, some of those things were expensive for a high schooler. We met in the park behind her house, and she demanded that at least one of us be in every one of her classes. If we weren’t, we’d be “cycled” out of the coven until our parents convinced the school to transfer us in.

Any alt kid knows what I’m talking about because they had a Sarah in their life. If she was angry, we had to be angry (and a little afraid of her). If she was sad, we were expected to ask why. If she was happy, we had to be even more happy. You get the picture.

The problem came when Sarah added Jess (fake name) to the Coven during the start of our junior year. It was the first time Sarah allowed someone else from a witch family to join. Jess was a transfer student from England. She told us all that that made her magic deeper and more powerful because she was a “daughter of the witches you could not burn.” When I pointed out that that statement is historically inaccurate, Jess called me a “pilgrim.” She tried to convince Sarah to blind me (take away my decision-making power in the coven), but I was the only one with reliable access to dried herbs (my mom’s a botanist and didn’t count her stores like Sarah’s mom did), so Sarah said no.

Jess’ dislike of me got worse when I actually did dress like a pilgrim for Halloween that year. And, if I’m honest, I did take it a little far. I was a hot-headed kid. I followed her around the entire day and had kids sign one of two petitions – “Burn” or “Not Burn.” When the Burn Petition won, I could tell I went too far (there were a LOT of signatures).  I tried to make it a joke and told her that now she really was a witch we couldn’t burn.

Jess and I got in our first physical fight. Sarah eventually broke it up, but not before Jess ripped out a good chunk of my hair, and I broke the tiger’s eye bracelet she wore.

 I later heard from another coven member that Jess tried to lay a curse on me that night. Unfortunately for her, I was pretty interested in defensive work and had a fresh witch’s jar buried under my window. Her curse got caught in it and rebounded. Apparently, that’s how Jess got pink eye, not from her younger sister.

We fought like cats and dogs. Any time Jess would talk about England, I’d make fun of her accent. When I brought up what spell I’d like to do, Jess would call me a juvenile pilgrim. Eventually, Jess got smart. She’d text me insults rather than say them to my face so that she’d have a chance to tattle to Sarah before I got the chance to hit back.

Sarah pulled me aside at least three times to “address” the fights. She basically said that I needed to respect Jess more because she came from a witch family, like her. She told me I could learn a lot from Jess if I stopped acting like a human. When I pointed out that we are humans, just humans who have elected to use magic, she got really mad.

And when Sarah got mad, she could make life really difficult.

My spell for luck on midterms got passed over for Jess’ jinx on our English teacher. The jinx worked and Ms. Edel tripped, but guess who still came to class with a broken leg? MS. EDEL. Guess who failed their midterm?

ALL SEVEN OF US.

Damn, I can’t believe I’m still upset by this petty high school drama. Therapy did not work.

So safe to say that Jess and I never became friends. I love magic now and loved it then, but she took it so seriously. I’ve always believed magic should be fun. All the spells she brought to the coven required a spirit element—blood, hair, sacrifice. One of the members was a strict green witch and had to drop out because of it. We missed two full moons until Sarah approved Eileen to rejoin after she woke up from her coma.

(And before anyone freaks out about the coma – we all ended up in comas here and there. We were a bunch of uneducated and untrained baby witches who all had different belief systems. The fact that there wasn’t anything worse than a coma is a miracle. She wasn’t traumatized by it any more than I was by mine.)

Jess and I mostly avoided each other for the rest of the year. We always voted against the other’s spell and I’m fairly certain she tried to trip jinx me in the hall as often as I tried to trip jinx her. Sarah never tried to diffuse the tension between us. She confided in Eileen that she was grateful we kept each other in check.

Things could have continued on that way until we all moved away for college (or repeated the year after failing all those midterms) if it weren’t for the vernal equinox. Or, as we inaccurately called it, the Spring Solstice.

The way it worked was that we all got to propose a ritual during equinoxes. They’re powerful magical events on their own and when you bring intent to the party? They were always our biggest, most successful workings.

Sarah always chose what we did on those days. She pretended like we got to vote, but we all knew she would never choose one of our rituals. My freshman year, she made us all do one for beauty. Because it was a “make real what is in the eye of the beholder” type, some of our transformations were a little…traumatizing. I’m only telling you this so you understand the power an equinox has, okay? I do not think this way anymore. Other members were just as extreme. Eileen went from a Wendy from Wendy’s to a Jessica Rabbit. And I…

Well.

I grew rabbit ears and teeth. That doesn’t make me a furry! Who Framed Roger Rabbit? was super influential on BOTH Eileen and me. I was a kid and didn’t understand my own concept of beauty. It took almost three months before I got the ears to go away entirely.

Suffice it to say, we were all excited and nervous for what ritual Sarah would pick, which is why it was a blow to find out that she had picked a ritual - Jess’ ritual.

A ritual for power.

I didn’t want to do it from day one, okay? My belief is that whatever magic comes to you naturally is what’s okay to take. I think if you rip magic up from the earth or the abyss, it’ll change you. Maybe even corrupt you or change your personality.

But I was a kid and didn’t know how to explain that. Jess and Sarah were both from witch families and they seemed to think it was okay. Even though I didn’t like Jess, I did see her as a more “authentic” witch because of that. I know better now, but as a kid seeing all of her grimoires, I gave her false authority.

Jess explained the ritual to us over the next month. She talked about how we were going to be “tested.” The ritual would pull our spiritual selves from our bodies, and depending on how long we chanted, we’d return to them with more or less magic than when we started. She said that everyone in her family did it when they turned 18.

It wasn’t until three days before the equinox that she told us what would happen if one of us were to be judged unworthy.

“Mostly nothing,” she said. I remember her exact words, how her black hair spun as she soared through the air on the swings. We stood in a half circle before her and Sarah as they swung higher and higher. An audience to their aerial court. She said, “Sometimes people lose some of their magic. When the ritual decides they don’t deserve it.”

Eileen asked, “When the ritual decides? It’s sentient?”

“There’s an overseer we’ll call on,” Sarah said. She’d been the only one allowed to read Jess’ grimoire. Her lip curled and she leaned forward so she could look down over Eileen like an avenging angel as she swung overhead. “An impartial entity.”

“I am not a deity witch,” I said. I had long ago committed that I would never call on a higher being in any ritual. Most of our spells had to be modified for me so that I could swear to the cardinal directions rather than to the Morrigan or Hecate. “You know that.”

“You’re not swearing to anyone,” Sarah said and rolled her eyes.

“Which means no one is swearing to us,” Eileen muttered under her breath. But I could tell she had given up by the slump of her shoulders.

“It’s only the unworthy who lose their magic,” Jess reassured. Her eyes flashed at me. “Scared you’re unworthy?”

Yes. I was scared. I know better now than to think lineage has any place in witchcraft. It’s about the magic, always just the magic. But months of hearing their rhetoric had worn at my self-esteem. It really felt like if I didn’t do the ritual, I was as good as admitting I wasn’t a witch. If I did do the ritual…

Well. Obviously, I did the ritual.

I was a hot-headed teen, okay? I felt challenged. I decided that I would wear extra protections. Tiger’s eye and quartz charged with intention. I picked out a silver locket my mother gave me, filled with belladonna. She told me it symbolized beauty and choice.

Now, here’s where I may be the asshole.

I can’t give you a play-by-play of the ritual. It was ten years ago, and calling on that much magic has a funny way of warping memory. But what I do remember is this:

We gathered in the park before sunrise. Seven of us in new colors – spring green, white, soft yellow and pink. Jess made us get rid of anything with a working on it – crystals, cards, and ladders. She collected them all in a linen bag and threw them into the woods. I couldn’t get away with my tiger’s eye or quartz, but she missed the pendant my mother gave me. It was a warm comfort against my chest as we began.

We lit the fire together, each of us frantically thumbing our lighter to make sure the sparks caught at the same time.

Jess brought the chalice. We all cut our palms and let seven drops fall into it. (No, we didn’t use a clean blade. My cut got infected as hell and it itches like a witch. I know better now!) She bade us drink, and we did.

“Now the magic will see us as equal,” Sarah said while Jess prepared the next step. She licked her lips as if savoring the blood. “It will only be our wills determining the outcome.”

Jess doused us with oil and herbs. It smelled sharp and uneasy. I had provided the herbs and knew all of them were either fresh or dried to perfection. But it was rancid. There was rot in the air, but I couldn’t place it then. I wrinkled my nose and took up the chanting with the others to distract myself from the smell.

If you’ve ever chanted before, you know the stages. First, you’re just talking. You say the words and they mean something, but you don’t feel them. Then your mouth gets tired. You start messing up the timing of the words. You stutter. You stumble. The words lose meaning. Most people stop there. They fall silent and sink into a shallow meditation with heads full of fog.

You’re only a witch if you can reach the next step. You keep saying the words. They become comfortable. You wear the words like clothes and feel your cadence curl through you like a companion. Your body goes on autopilot and your mind relaxes. The chant turns smooth as silk. Depending on the chant, you lose yourself to the sweetness of your coven singing. Sometimes, you sink into the earth with them. Other times, you ride the flow of the magic like waves.

This time, the words pulled us away from our bodies. Jess slowly introduced new words to our chant. Words of summoning.

We called upon the Overseer.

Pressure fell around me like a vice. I couldn’t breathe even as the ritual fell from my lips without breaking. Magic had, at that point, always given me control. This? This was a complete loss of it.

I felt myself compressing. Smaller and smaller in the face of the being that was rising in the middle of the flames. It was not an observer. The moment I “saw” it, its endless form writhing in the space between the smoke, I knew that. It was a judge and jury.

It was a spider.

We chanted. It grew. It pulled us from our bodies like spiderweb and spooled our essences onto its forelimbs. It was not what Jess described and, simultaneously, it was. We were being tested. Our psyches were being tested.

So long as we chanted, the being would be contained. However, the longer it was contained, the more of us it could take. If we let it go, what would it do? Would it return any part of our magic to us? Any part of who we were?

Or would it eat?

This wasn’t a test of magic. It was a test of faith. Faith in each other and faith in the ritual.

For those practitioners out there, you can see the problem. I didn’t enter the ritual with faith. My intent was flawed from the beginning. We’d had spells fail because of lack of belief. I had never been the person who didn’t believe.

Until then

My words wavered. The Overseer turned its eyes to me. I could see my magic like thread before it, shimmering against the backdrop of its maw.

Then another tremor. Eileen dropped a word. The Overseer split and looked at both of us. Someone else faltered. One of the coven – I couldn’t see them – fell and went silent.

The sky yawned overhead, empty and cold. The embers from the fire spun up into it and were lost. The Overseer rippled and I felt our coven shrink in the face of it.

I gasped around the chant and looked across the fire. The light licked Jess’ gleeful face. Her eyes hungered for my failure. I could see it. Through the connection of the Overseer, I could feel it.

Jess and Sarah changed the chant. To this day, I don’t remember if they taught it to the rest of us. There are so many parts of the ritual that I’ve left out or forgotten. But I remember them chanting different words. The circle grew discordant.

“I offer my magic so I may be unspun and woven anew,” they said. The words have imprinted themselves like bitters under my tongue. “I offer my magic so I may—”

Some of the other members tried to pick up the new chant. Their voices grew weaker and the Overseer’s limbs began to extend out towards each one of us.

I wouldn’t offer my magic to that thing. I wouldn’t be unspun.  Eileen was stuttering. I saw her fall to her knees. I was close behind.

I threw my necklace into the flames.

Belladonna. Beautiful and deadly. It has meant choice to many women and many of them have been from my own family. It's extreme and it’s final. An end that doesn’t always make room for a new beginning.

Pretty words that cover up what I meant when I threw it into the Overseer.

My intent was Death.

Entities never die. I’m sure the Overseer didn’t. It howled. The wind kicked up and brought the flames into a spiral ten feet tall. Its forelimbs shattered, and I reeled myself back together greedily.

Not all of us were safe from the Overseer’s desperate struggle against my death curse.

Sarah and Jess were alone in the third phase of the ritual. They had changed the chant. They had offered their magic and asked the entity to do with it what it will. They believed.

And because they believed, the Overseer took their magic with it.

I think it was the first coma Jess ever fell into. Her family certainly acted like it. They whisked her back to the East Coast before the end of the year. I heard from Eileen that she woke up shortly after I left for college.

Magicless.

Sarah too.

I fully own that I was responsible for the ritual failing. I panicked. I’ve gone through every excuse over the years. I didn’t know what the ritual really was. I was just a kid. I took magic too lightly. It was their fault for not letting us read the grimoire for ourselves. But, at the end of the day, the real reason the ritual failed was because I panicked and I let that panic break my belief.

I moved on to college and it felt like running away. I’ve never returned to my hometown. I’m happy with the life I’ve built. My magic summer camp gives me time to travel during the winter months, and I feel like I’m making a real difference in young witches’ lives.

Nowadays I teach young witches to never do a working without full intent. If they have doubts, they don’t do it. It’s a lesson I learned the hard way ten years ago. I tell them it can cost them more than their magic. It can cost them their lives.

Eileen is still back home and she says Sarah rarely comes out of her house. Sometimes she sees our former high priestess wandering the school grounds on nights of the full moon. I hear from other members of the coven that Jess’ family put out a bounty on me a few years ago. However, I never saw an assassin so I think that was just a rumor.

So, knowing that they’re still not over it, would I be the asshole for attending my high school reunion next month? I’ve been craving reconnection with my roots, but I’d be subjecting Sarah and Jess (though Jess marked Maybe on the RSVP) to my presence.

I know they must hold a grudge. If they were still witches, that would be a problem. I don’t think I’d be able to defend myself from one of their workings since I blame myself for what happened. But since they’re not, it’s not really a danger. That’s pretty asshole-ish, right? Ignoring their feelings because they don’t have the magic to back it up?

So WIBTA for attending my high school reunion even though the two girls I stripped of magic will be attending?

-----

Thanks for reading! It looks like I'll have quite a few updates for the anthology! I am still obsessed with this format and can't wait to share some of the updates over the next few weeks.

If you'd like to support me before the anthology, please consider supporting me on Patreon (X)! I post new stories every week and many of my patrons saw the above story a week early.

The current AITA story takes place in the same universe as our former Cryptid (X). About a poor, poor boy who is just proud to be a regional Nightmare. Why is everyone so mad at him?

See y'all next week!

[mysunshinetemptress]

Glitter in the Air

Grace Clinton x Albert!Reader

Warnings: Internalised homophobia, homophobia

A/n thank you @silentwolfsstuff for proofreading it for me.

You can still remember the first time you felt different, felt different from your family, from Korbin.

You’re ten when you and Korbin sit up all night as she talks about Shawn, a boy in your class that she’s currently crushing on, you listen like you always have and smile as her cheeks redden as she talks about holding his hand in the yard.

Your cheeks redden a short while later but for different reasons, the conversation moves to what boy you have a crush on.

It’s not a boy, it hasn’t been a boy since you kissed Dylan behind the tree in his backyard, You haven’t liked a boy since Aaliyah held your hand at the last school dance, since she kissed your cheek in the girls bathroom.

You’re sick you think,a short while after it happens, that’s why you have these funny feelings, maybe Aaliyah made you sick by holding your hand and kissing your cheek and that’s why your stomach feels funny, you feel this sinking feeling in your stomach as you think of it more, you’re sick now, you can’t hold anyone’s hand anymore you can’t kiss your mom good night because you’re sick, Aaliyah made you sick and you don’t want to give to anyone especially not your family, especially not Korbin and Teagan and Kylar and your Dad. So you stop, no one else can be sick like you, you’ll keep it to yourself and that way everyone will be safe.

But you can’t tell Korbin this, she doesn’t seem to have these types of feelings for girls, she’s not sick, no one seems to have these types of feeling for girls except your Dad and Kyler, but they're boys, they are supposed to feel that way, they aren’t sick like you, it what your mom says, it’s what the pastor says, it’s what the bible says.

You try to stop having these feelings as you get older you really do, you try to pray away your sickness, you pour holy water over your hands daily and you bless yourself extra going to mass but still nothing works.

You get a boyfriend when you turn fifteen a couple of months after Korbin starts dating Ethan you find Will.

He’s nice and you parents love him the same way his parents love you but you never feel what Korbin and Teagan say they feel with their boyfriends.

They aren’t sick like you.

You do however feel it with Kayla, you don’t mean to, you never meant to but she’s soft and nice to talk to not that Will isn’t but when you talk with her on the bus ride home from your match and you swear your hearts going to beat out of your chest.

Kayla tries to kiss you a couple of weeks later but you panic “what are you doing.” Kayla’s still has her hands on your face your cheeks slightly squished together “I just thought that…well you know since…” you pull fully back “I have a boyfriend Kay, Will he’s nice and I can’t do this to him.”

Kayla’s eyes widen “wait does…are you saying that if you weren’t with Will you would.” You panic at the pulling away stepping back trying to create distance. “I’m not gay.” You state harshly “I’m not sick.” You spit harsher again. Kayla tried to but she really couldn’t be mad you looked so heartbroken and so conflicted “ok my mistake.”

You avoid her on the bus from then on, and you find yourself sitting alone, she’s the only other sophomore on the varsity team, if you don’t talk to her, sit with her then you’ll be alone. You are alone. You’re the only one who’s sick.

You’ve been getting called to play for the US since you were thirteen, Korbin following a year later at fourteen. You move along the ranks of football better and your parents can’t help but show how happy they are for you, how happy your sisters and brother are for you, but still you feel lost. You still feel sick.

You travel to France in the summer of 2019 it’s a gift from your parents for getting baptised and giving your life to god, you don’t do it cause you want to, you do it in hopes it will rid you of this sickness you do it in hopes of being normal.

But it also makes your parents happy it makes Korbin happy as she bounces in the water beside you.

You sit anxiously as the US win the World Cup again. A funny feeling fills you as you watch Kelly O’Hara run to the crowd and kiss a girl, sure you knew most of the senior squad players were gay but to actually see one in real life kissing a girl, it felt weird.

But that feeling faded quickly as Korbin let out a small ew at the sight instead your body now felt heavy like you were being pulled down, “I mean I know she’s a girl kisser but can’t she do that in private.” Teagan nods “it’s sick honestly it’s like they are trying to force us into accepting it.”

You and Will are still together, even when Korbin’s gone and had three other boyfriends, but you still don’t have those feelings your friends and sisters talk about, maybe you just have to stick with him a little longer.

Maybe you just need to sleep with him and the feelings will start then, maybe the sickness will go away then.

It’s what you tell yourself leading up to the varsity teams dance, it’s what you tell yourself as you dance with him through the night, it’s what you tell yourself when your kissing in the corner of the hall and it’s what you tell yourself as your lying on the bed Will pressed up against you. But it never happens.

You break up with him just before summer that year. “I….I’m sorry Will I just, I don’t…they all have these feelings and I don’t have them and…you deserve someone who has them cause your a really great guy and I don’t…you would just be left waiting for me to get feelings I don’t think will ever come.”

He takes it relatively well, you’re just happy that you can still be friends, Korbin takes it worse than both of you combined.

“Oh my god I just heard, are you ok…stupid question sorry come on let’s go get ice cream.” You don’t know what else to do but you can’t indulge in the bad things she’s saying about him “He’s not a bad guy Korbin I broke up with him, he…I don’t have these feelings you and Teagan talk about for him and it’s not fair on him so I broke up with him.” I’m sick and he’s not and I don’t want to put that on him you think.

Korbin takes that as you fancy someone else and the heart to heart you thought you were having turns into gossip about who it could be that you like.

You're seventeen still when it’s time to make a decision about your football career. College is the best option but it’s not the only one for you like it is for Korbin.

The decision hangs heavy in the air, a stark contrast to the sunlit afternoon. Notre Dame, a prestigious institution, beckoned with its ivy-covered walls and storied tradition. It's where Korbin will be but it wasn't the dream. The dream was painted in Carolina blue, a vision of playing for UNC, a place where legends like Tobin Heath and Lucy Bronze had once graced the field.

The phone call from Manchester United shattered the familiar. A senior contract, not a youth academy invite. A chance to step onto the world stage, to play in the WSL not some college league, not the NCAA. It was a dream come true, but a dream that Korbin was still a few years off reaching.

You couldn't help but feel guilty, you were twins you did everything together, but for many years you had been charging ahead in soccer, you just had to hope she'd catch up eventually.

You don't expect it to make major news, your still only seventeen but your mom sends a clip of an ESPN headline stating your signing to Manchester United.

Y/n Albert is on her way to the WSL signing with Manchester United, Albert’s twin sister Korbin commits to Notre Dame.

You move a short while later, your parents coming with you to help you settle into your new apartment, you feel happy, content even until your mom states her worries for you living in the English city.

"I worry about you baby, you know there are so many...gays here and well i don't want any of them trying to force themselves on you, their sick individuals and your my baby."

You feel as though you might throw up then and there at the reminder of your sickness.

"Mom" you whine "No ones going to do anything, I....I'll be fine."

They leave a few days later, with the promise of geting on a flight and coming to rescue you if needed, you brush them off stepping back as your mom moves in for a hug and instead simply waving goodbye.

United finish fourth on the table, but you have a dream first season, so much so you get your first call up to the USWNT, you cry on the phone to Korbin as she cries back about how proud she is, your parents are proud to but your moms also busy wondering if you've met any nice english boys, again the moment is ruined and you feel sick again.

Y/n Albert receives her first call up for the USWNT after a dream first season with the Red Devils, making an appearance in every match this season and starting in nineteen games, assisting Untied star striker Alessia Russo with six of her eleven goals.

It's true you've assisted the majority of Alessia's goals but you haven't celebrated a single one, not on or off the pitch, in fact your team have copped on pretty quickly that you don't want to be hugged, to be touched.

You want nothing more, but the girls are to good to get sick from you, Alessia who you can't help but admit you've got a slight crush for is to good to get this awful sickness from you, its safer if you don't hug...don't touch your teammates.

Y/n Albert receives first cap for the USWNT against Costa Rica in the CONCAF semi-finals which saw the USWNT advancing to the finals after a 3-0 score.

You return back to Manchester, a winner with two senior national team caps under your belt, after facing Canda in the final, your english teamates have won the euros and while they are all showing off their medal standing around hugging your teamates, you stand far back in the corner of your dressing room.

Your medal gets passed around too, you've scrubbed it clean making sure none of your germs are on it so the girls don't get sick, its been in your bag ever since and you simply wave at Less to grab it from there when she asks about it.

It's a big deal, a real medal but you can't cause a fuss over it because then people want to congratulate you, touch you, so you wave it all off.

You wave it off. until a girl around the same age as you with a funny accent hands it back "That's proper cool mate." You look between her and the medal, three maybe four times.

She steps forward her arms open, open for a hug but they swiftly close as you step back and her face falls slightly.

She sticks her hand out "Sorry" and now your eyes flash between her outstretched hand, your medal and her face. "Less says you're not a hugger I forgot, but its really great to meet you mate, I'm Grace."

You don't move, your mind is blank, in fact all you can think about is how she says her Gs a weird way, and as her face falls slightly at your lack of response to her open hand your brain kicks in.

"Y/n." you say shakily, but still don't move. Grace drops her hand smiling and all you can think about is how your stomach erupts into butterflies.

But it only lasts a moment, only a moment until you feel your stomach drop, your blood to go cold and the heavy feeling to fall back on to you.

Your sickness is back, and you can't give it to Grace, not now not ever.

Grace and her funny little way of saying Gs.

[puckinghischier]

Cart Girls & Curly Q’s

Luke Hughes x fem!reader

summary: luke has a crush on the cart girl

notes: for once, i feel like i didn’t really struggle while writing luke. this probably isn’t one of my best works, but i loved the idea and i’m so glad i was able to try to bring it to life. hope you enjoy!! happy reading! 🫶🏼

request: from my 400 follower celly - “You come here often?” “Well, I work here. So I think I’d have to say yes.” with Luke and maybe a cart girl at the golf club close to the summer lake house?

[3k]

Most of your friends absolutely hate going to work in the summertime. They hate being stuck in an office or storefront all day, no chance to enjoy the high UV and prime lake hours.

You, however, never wake up dreading your work.

During the cold, Michigan winters, you work as a bartender at your college’s local bar. You attend your classes in the morning, do your homework in the afternoon, then clock into your shifts at night. You have the routine down to a science.

During the summers, though, you found a job as the cart girl at the uppity country club closest to the large community of expensive lake houses you drive by every morning.

The tips are amazing, and getting paid to drive around in the sunshine and watch attractive men play golf all day is what you call a small piece of paradise. Not to mention you’re off by five o’clock every day, allowing time to join your friends and family out on the boat for night swims and evening rides.

Today was especially good, with it being one of the hottest days of the summer, your sales were sky high.

You’ve already had to restock your beer cooler three times this morning, and it’s barely even noon.

Your boss has really been pushing the sale of liquor, so you inform every group you pass about your buy a double, get a single shot half off deal, but nothing calls to a man more than a cold beer on a hot golf course.

Many of the men you’ve served today have given you a tip simply because you’re out working in the heat, delivering beers ‘like an angel’ one middle aged man told you, handing you an extra ten.

You just laughed and told him thank you, pocketing the cash. You always loved weekend mornings, locals and vacationers alike all over the course, upping your sales, and as a result, your tips.

As you’re leaving the club house after yet another restock, you see a group of guys that you assumed were around your age.

They were being loud, but not obnoxious, as they piled into two carts and sped their way out to the course, eager to get their game started.

You wondered when you would see them, having been told not to bother people until they’re at least on hole two. Apparently, people get mad when you try to sell them alcohol in the middle of their first stroke.

Making your way around your normal path, you start at hole eight and work your way in a circle until you get back to the clubhouse, the later holes being your big money makers. People are either celebrating their lead or mourning their loss at that point, wanting a drink either way.

You sell a few shots, making your boss happy no doubt, but run out of beers for the fourth time that day around hole sixteen. You stop and offer to each group after that, selling a few more liquor items, but were mostly told to come back when you had beer again.

Flying down the cart path, you see the same group of guys from earlier around hole seven, one out of the group flagging you down as you speed by.

You slow your cart down to a stop and they walk over to meet you, grabbing their wallets from their carts as they approach you.

“Sorry, boys, out of beer. On my way back to the clubhouse now to restock if you want to wait a few,” you tell them once they’re within ear shot, not wanting to get their hopes up.

“Well, do you have anything you can sell us? I’m getting beat pretty bad out here and need a pick me up. Don’t really care what it is,” a brunette pleaded.

You tell him about the shot deals, and he hands you his I.D., requesting a double shot of crown and ginger-ale before turning and asking his cart buddy what he wanted.

“Jack, what do you want?” he calls over to a guy that looked similar to him, thinking to yourself that they could be brothers.

He explains the discount to the other brunette, saying he’s already paid, just to pick what he wanted.

After viewing the second player’s I.D., your brother theory is confirmed by their matching last name.

Jack, you learned, asked for a simple, funnily enough, Jack and coke.

“Alright, gentlemen, anything else I can do for you?” you ask, turning to face the last member of the group.

You make eye contact with a tall, curly-headed boy, noticing the pink tone of his cheeks when you catch him staring at you.

“Anything for you, curly Q?” you ask him, taking note of how attractive he was. You always play up the flirting a little when you find a player on the course attractive, figuring it’ll help your sales while simultaneously allowing you to have a little fun.

His cheeks turn an ever-deeper shade of red when he realizes you’re talking to him, freezing up and averting his eyes. You feel a little bad for putting him on the spot, but you find his shyness endearing.

“Nah, Lukey here isn’t old enough, is he Quinny? Still got a few months till you can drink with the big bros. Isn’t that right, Luke?” the brunette named Jack slaps who you’ve now learned is Luke on the back.

You let out a chuckle, witnessing the deadly glare Luke shoots at his older brother.

“Don’t worry, they picked a cart girl that isn’t even old enough to drink, either. Won’t be able to drink the concoctions I make until next spring,” you tell him, hoping to alleviate a little of the embarrassment you caused him.

“Oh, wow,” is all he utters out, bringing out another laugh from you.

“Alright, well, I’ll let you boys get back to your game,” you tell them, walking back over to get back into your cart.

You ride off, thinking of the tall, curly brunette the whole time.

Three hours later, you’re tending the clubhouse bar.

When you came back in for restock, your boss told you it was too hot for you to keep your role as cart girl all day, insisting you switch out with one of your coworkers.

You weren’t too upset with the trade off, now in air conditioning but still getting tips from buzzed players after their game, either nursing their loss or celebrating their win.

The clubhouse gets busier as the day goes on, people dipping in for a quick cool off after playing eighteen holes in the heat.

“Hey, new body down on the end. Care to get it for me?” your co-tender, Brady, asks you, the two of you working in tandem.

You nod at him as you finish pouring the beer in your hand, walking down to the other end of the bar.

“Hey, player, what can I get for ya?” you ask the stranger, not looking up as you place a coaster in front of the patron.

“Just-Just a water, if you don’t mind,” he asks, slightly stumbling his words.

You look up to see the curly brunette, Luke, from earlier.

“Oh, it’s you. Curly Q,” you say, grabbing a glass and filling it with ice.

“Name’s Luke, actually,” he tells you, the redness from earlier returning to his cheeks.

“Yeah, I remember. Just think Curly Q fits you better,” you smirk at him, placing the glass full of water on his coaster. “I’m Y/N.”

He mumbles a small thanks, taking a sip from the glass.

“Anything else I can get for you?” you ask him, glancing down the bar to see if any new customers have sat down.

He stares at you, his eyes caught like a deer in headlights.

You wait patiently for an answer, letting out a small giggle when he just continues to stare at you.

“Alright, well I’ll let you think about your answer and be right back,” you laugh as you start to walk away.

“Wait!” Luke startles you, stopping you in your tracks. “Uhh..do you…come here often?” he stutters out, closing his eyes tightly in embarrassment as soon as the words leave his mouth.

Your eyes shine at him with amusement. “Well, I work here, so I think I’d have to say yes,” you respond, smiling.

Luke peeks one eye open at you, seeing your amused expression and sighing, letting his body sag.

“Yeah, I don’t know why I asked that,” he runs his hand through his curls nervously.

You rest your arms on the bar in front of you. “Ehh, don’t worry about it,” you tell him, scrunching your nose as you shake your head.

Luke gives you a nervous smile, sliding his water towards his body and running his finger around the rim of the glass.

“I’m sure you talk to all kinds of idiots like me when you’re serving drinks, huh?” he asks, making your face fall a bit at his defeated tone.

You stand a little straighter. “Nah, not really. Most of the idiots I talk to are just old and creepy, not my age and charming,” you tell him, finally earning a laugh from him.

His laugh was more of an amused scoff, but you already want to see the shy smile that makes its way onto his face afterwards, again.

“Yeah, cause a guy that asks you if you come to your job often is the epitome of charming,” he looks up at you.

“Well, it’s kept me here talking to you so far, hasn’t it?”

Luke blushes, making you think the man in front of you is unable to go two minutes without his face turning red.

“Yeah, I guess it has,” he casts his eyes towards his lap.

“So, Luke, you a local or here on vacation?” you ask him, glancing down at the quickly clearing stools. You know Brady is getting all of your tips right now, but you can’t bring yourself to move from your spot.

“Well, a little bit of both. Technically on vacation because I live in New Jersey now, but my parents have owned a lake house here since I was a kid, so I claim the title of a local,” you finally get him to loosen up a little, his body language relaxing. “Plus I went to U of M for a little while, so I’ve spent quite a bit of time over in Ann Arbor.”

“Ahh, a city boy,” you tease, grabbing a glass to wipe down, making it look like you’re at least partially doing your job. “Why’d you leave Ann Arbor?”

“Got a…uh…job offer in Jersey,” he tells you cryptically, eyes darting around the room.

“‘A uh…job offer?’ What are you, in the mafia?” you ask him, mimicking his words and poking fun at his nervousness at telling you about his job.

“Well, not quite,” he starts, laughing a real laugh this time, causing you to mentally record the sound and store it in your brain. “I…ahhh…I play hockey up there.”

Your eyebrows raise in surprise. “Like, professionally?”

He sinks back into his seat, looking like he wants to hide.

“Yeah. For the New Jersey Devils. My brother, Jack plays for them, too,” He tries to pass some of the attention off of himself.

“Wait, you and your brother both play in the NHL?” the impressed tone of your voice gives Luke a little boost of confidence.

“Well, both of my brothers, actually. But Quinn plays for the Canucks up in Vancouver. Jack and I are both in Jersey, though.”

You let your mouth hang open at him, not being able to hide your shock.

This earns another laugh from Luke.

“What kind of superhuman DNA do your parents possess?” you ask him.

“Not sure. We’re still being studied as we speak,” Luke leans closer, whispering like he’s telling you a secret. “The big wigs in the NHL haven’t found out yet that they grew us in test tubes in their basement.”

You let out a laugh so loud that you gain the attention of several men on the other end of the bar, slapping your hand over your mouth.

Luke leans back in his seat, a fond smile on his face as he sees your embarrassed expression.

“Hey, Y/N, you gonna come help me do your job or what?” you hear Brady yell, annoyed that he’s been working the whole bar alone for the past ten minutes.

You roll your eyes while still facing Luke, removing your hand from your mouth and turning your head to respond. “Yeah, don’t get your club all bent, I’ll be right there.”

Luke’s still smiling at you when you turn back to face him.

“Guess that’s my cue to get back to my job and quit talking to cute boys sitting at the bar, huh?” you spew, realizing what you just said a second too late.

Luke’s eyebrows shoot up, his back straightening in surprise.

You pause all movements, staring at Luke.

“Uhh…anyways, gotta go do my job. Y’know, the thing I come around often for?” you make a call back to Luke’s attempt at a line earlier, hoping it take some of the attention off of what you just said.

Luke chuckles at you. “Yeah, I need to go meet back up with my fellow lab rats, anyways,” he tells you, reaching for his wallet, placing a twenty down on the bar.

“You do realize water is free, right?” you tell him, sliding the bill back to him.

“Yeah. Figured I’d try to make up for the tips I caused you to lose, though,” he shrugs his shoulders, standing from his chair.

“Nope, I’m not taking your money. Feels like you’re just paying me for talking to you,” you tell him, holding the money out towards him and shaking it around, trying to make him take it.

Luke shakes his head at your stubbornness. “C’mon, just take it. Your coworker collected all kinds of tips while you were over here.”

“Nope,” you shake your head, leaning over and grabbing Luke’s arm, placing the money in his hand.

“I need to do something, though. I feel bad causing you to lose out on money that should’ve been yours,” he insists.

“Well, I guess I’ll let you make it up to me,” you start, watching him try to lay the money down again and shooting your arm out, preventing him from doing so. “By giving me your number,” you decide to be bold.

Luke goes still. “Uhh, y-yeah. Sure,” he snaps out of his momentary freeze, fumbling for his phone, handing it over to you.

You put your number in his phone, sending yourself a text before handing it back with a wink.

“I guess I’ll talk to you later?” Luke asks, pushing his stool in.

You nod your head yes, turning to go back to your job duties.

You turn back around after you take a few steps, seeing Luke walking away with his back turned.

“Hey, Curly Q!” you call after him, causing him to turn to look at you. “I get off at five, in case you were wondering,” you shout towards him, flashing a smirk before you walk away.

Luke smiles and shakes his head, making his way towards the other side of the clubhouse.

You watch his figure as he moves across the room, stopping to make small talk with a man, shaking his head before joining his brothers at a small table on the restaurant side of the clubhouse, picking up his menu and browsing the food selection.

You smile to yourself and go back to stacking glasses.

As you’re transferring a new stack of clean glasses to the cooler under the bar, you hear someone call your name from above you.

You stand, rattling off your typical greeting to the new customer.

“Someone named Luke asked me to give this to you,” he tells you, handing you the same twenty-dollar bill Luke had tried to hand you a few minutes prior.

You pick up the bill as the stranger walks away, looking down at it before raising your head and looking for the curly headed culprit.

You meet Luke’s eye, raising a brow at him while lifting the paper money, pointing at it.

Luke shrugs his shoulders and grins from across the room.

Months later, when you’re attending your first ever Devils game in support of your newly titled boyfriend, you watch him skate out on the ice for warm ups, making a bee-line to the seat he provided for you.

He looks at you in his Jersey, a sight he pictured from the moment he first saw you on the golf course last summer, wondering how he managed to impress the pretty cart girl he embarrassed himself with, what feels like so long ago.

Your smile took up your entire face as you waved at him, excited to finally see him play in person. He smiles back, pointing down to the ground, asking if you wanted a puck.

You nodded your head yes, watching him pick up a puck and take the cover off of a small cut out in the plexiglass separating the two of you.

When he slides the puck through the hand sized hole, you grab onto his glove, replacing the puck with a piece of paper before pushing his hand back towards him.

He looks down at his hand, confusion written all over his face. He opens his glove, looking down at his hand, his head snapping up to look at you once he realizes what you had done.

“There’s your tip, hot shot!” you shout at him through the glass, smiling in amusement, seeing the same twenty-dollar bill from the first day you met him resting in his red glove, never imagining that the nervous, bumbling boy sitting in front of you at the bar that day would make you feel like the luckiest girl in all of Michigan, and now New Jersey.

[flemingology]

Hey could you maybe do a fic about reader and alexia on christmas eve where reader is very pregnant and the baby is due in a couple of weeks but it comes early (christmas eve) and there is a lot of stress and drama of course being mainly from alexia and the baby is eventually born on christmas! maybe include alexia’s family and some of the barca girls in some way? Sorry it’s so long😭

christmas came early ─ alexia putellas x reader

part of my christmas series. full masterlist here!

in which: christmas eve unexpectedly brings you and alexia the gift of new life

warnings: pregnancy (symptoms), labour (not descriptive at all lol), very fluffy

wc: 4k

a/n: i wasn't too clued up on writing labor, so i didn't. i didn't want to make it unrealistic and i was gonna get mad as hell at myself if i tried and i couldn't get it how i wanted. i hope you enjoy tho!

“Be careful,” Alexia hummed against your lips, giving you another kiss after claiming 4 times that the previous one was the last one. “I will. We will. I promise.” Your fiancée tentatively crouched down and put her hands protectively on the side of your growing bump. “Be nice to mama,” she said softly, her eyes flicking towards yours as she spoke to the little wonder growing inside of your belly. “She’s making sure you’re gonna be all strong and healthy when you’re born in a couple months.” The Spaniard finished with a soft kiss against your belly, hoisting herself back up and tenderly pressing her lips against yours. The last one, she promised, again.

You’d never get used to the sight of Alexia speaking to your bump, speaking to the little life that was growing inside of you and that was going to make you mothers. “Chop, chop. Don’t be late. I love you.” Alexia hummed in mock annoyance, but turned on her heels and stepped towards the front door. “I’ll be back for dinner. I promise.” She blew you one final kiss and then set off to the training grounds.

Ever since you found out you were pregnant, it was like someone flipped a switch within Alexia. She had always been quite protective over you, way more rooted in jealousy than she'd ever like to admit, but since you were carrying her baby, she took it to another level. Not only that, she was also preparing for motherhood like she would prepare for football games. She researched, took classes, watched youtube videos and read articles with great interest and attention, wanting to be as prepared as possible for the day your kiddo would arrive.

Part of Alexia's overprotectiveness was also rooted in the struggle you'd gone through in trying to get pregnant. Your IVF journey hadn't been the kindest on either of you. Failed attempt after failed attempt, you were nearing the brink of giving up, but on your 4th attempt it had finally stuck. You couldn't nearly express the joy that overcame the both of you, the realization dawning on you that you were going to become mothers. Together. A childhood dream that was finally coming into fruition, with the love of your life.

The first couple months, though, were hell. Headaches, dizziness, cramping, food aversions, backaches, nausea, vomiting, swelling, itching – you name it, you had it. It felt like life punching you in the face for having wished so bad to get pregnant, you had to deal with all the consequences now. Still, you took it in your stride as best as you could. You kept going to work for as long as possible (until Alexia could no longer be convinced to allow you to go), you stayed on top of your part of the chores at home, you still went to all of your wife's football games, all whilst trying to get used to and accommodate for the little life that was growing in your belly. Symptoms be damned, you were finally pregnant and you wouldn't let anything ruin your happy, little pregnant bubble.

Now, with the due date nearing, Alexia was very reluctant to leave you for training every day. You assured her time and time again that you were going to be fine, your mum and Eli both had their phones on them at all times for if you were to call with an emergency. A well-packed hospital bag had been sitting by the door since a couple weeks (way too early but you gave in when Alexia had been pacing around the house for the best part of an hour instead of sleeping), so you were good to go to the hospital if necessary. The staff at Barcelona kept Alexia's phone with them at all times, so that a potential call wouldn’t go lost in an empty dressing room.

Christmas was nearing, though, and even though your wife was reluctant to agree, you'd invited Ingrid and Mapi over for a Christmas dinner. You were still a couple weeks from your due date, so you assured her you'd be fine. You opted to stay at home rather than going out, Ingrid and Alexia deciding they would cook the meals for the evening so you could lay back and relax. There were a couple times in the running up to the holidays that Alexia tried to convince you to blow off the plans you'd made, but you insisted you didn't. As much as you couldn't wait to meet the little baby growing in your belly, you didn't want to miss out on your final Christmas Eve with just your fiancée because of her stubborn overprotectiveness.

–

Alexia got up with the reflexes of a cat when the bell rang, glaring down at you as you also tried to get up. You didn't fight back and plopped yourself back down on the couch, too tired and too big a belly to really argue her point. Preparations for tonight hadn't been smooth sailing, in all honesty. You'd been hit quite bad with some of the third trimester symptoms lately, especially the Braxton Hicks had majorly upped in frequency. They were very short, only mildly uncomfortable and infrequent as you started to get them, but now only three weeks from your due date, the tightening sensations in your uterus lasted longer, were more painful and came in a steady frequency.

Your fiancée uncoordinatedly ran around the house all afternoon, trying her best to balance preparations for Christmas Eve and a very pregnant, slightly annoyed girlfriend to the best of her abilities. She managed, though, and you never really doubted that she wouldn't. If you had to describe your lover in one word, it would surely be determined. Whether it came to football, or taking care of you, or arranging your shoes on the shoe rack with meticulous, millimetered precision – she didn't do things half-assed. It was all or nothing for the Spanish midfielder.

The table was set, wine was cooled (lemon water for you, seemingly your latest craving), some preparations for dinner had started, presents were on the coffee table, soft music was playing from the speakers around the apartment, the mood lights were on, Alexia did good. More than good, and it settled half your nerves for the evening. You hated that you couldn't help her, that you were bound to the sofa. But even if she allowed you to help, you would probably not be able to find the energy to get up and run around the place.

You heard some muffled voices coming from the hall, moving to sit slightly more upright, but you got caught out by another Braxton Hick. You winced slightly and rubbed your hand over your swollen bump, closing your eyes and trying to control your breathing.

"Amor, are you okay?" Alexia's worried voice rang through the living room as the three of them entered the living room. You took another deep breath before replying, the contraction easing away as you finally sat up a little more. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine, Ale. Just another Braxton Hick." You mustered up a small smile, and if Alexia sensed the worry in your expression, she didn't say anything about it. They'd been more frequent than ever before today, and it was worrying you slightly. You tried to push away the thoughts, though, excited to celebrate Christmas Eve with your fiancée and two of your best friends.

The night went on smoothly. Conversation flowed easily, as it always did between the four of you, and Ingrid and Alexia cooked up a delicious meal. The girls each made a dish from their respective home countries, Alexia making Catalan escudella – a meat stew with sausage, and Ingrid made pinnekjøtt, lamb prepared in a way that you tried your best to remember, but couldn't try to remake even if you tried. The table was filled with all kinds of deliciousness, and you felt genuinely happy. The Winter holidays had always been your favorite period of the year, so to be celebrating it with some of the most important people in your life, felt great.

It wasn't until later that evening that you all found yourself on the sofa again and got to opening presents. You all promised one another that you wouldn't go overboard with anything, but no one wanted to come up empty-handed. Mapi gifted you and Alexia a tiny little Barcelona shirt with your fiancée's name on the back, a baby Adidas tracksuit and then also some scented candles and incense sticks for around the apartment. You and Alexia bought Mapi and Ingrid a gift card from this art store they'd been wanting to buy something from the past couple months, and a couple bottles of fine Spanish wine.

The four of you lounged on the sofa, enjoying each other's company as the evening ticked away. You were taking a moment to yourself to appreciate your surroundings; your cozy apartment made even warmer by three of the most important people in your life, with a little baby growing in your belly, that'd been growing safe and healthy inside of you for the past 37 weeks. The warm laughter of your fiancée rang through your place and you felt fuzzy inside, taking a deep breath and enjoying the moment. Your state of bliss got abruptly interrupted, though, by another Braxton Hick. Or so you thought. Your wince didn't go unnoticed by your invitees, their conversation quieting down as they glanced over at you. "All good, baby?" Alexia said softly, as she put a hand on the small of your back.

You were about to tell her you were fine, that it was probably just another practice contraction, until you could feel something warm and wet between your legs. You thought you were imagining things, but it was there. It was definitely there. "Ale," you breathed, trying to compose yourself before you set off the whole house with what you were about to say. "I think my water broke." You opened your eyes just enough to see how Alexia's widened, her mouth opening and closing a couple times, seemingly rooted to her spot on the sofa.

"Joder," she murmured, "you're not due another three weeks!" You winced as another contraction came, doubling over to the best of your abilities with your pregnant bump in the way. "Vale, Alexia, do something!" You heard Ingrid say, ushering your fiancée to stand up and get the hospital bag. "Come here, love, I'll help you stand up and we'll get you to the car." Ingrid's soothing voice grounded you slightly, and you looked up at her with a worried expression. "I'm not due another three weeks," you mumbled. "That's okay. Your baby has been growing fine as it should be, so this won't be a problem. Three weeks isn't all that bad. You'll be fine. But you have to go to the hospital, okay? Take my hand." You did as the Norwegian told and gripped her hand like a vice, not missing the wince shooting across her face but not bothered enough to care. You stood up with Ingrid's aid and looked at the wet spot on the sofa, another confirmation that you really weren't imagining things. Your baby was on its way.

Ingrid led you towards the front door of your apartment while Mapi called the elevator up, the both of them wanting to get you downstairs and in the car as quick as possible. You heard rummaging around behind you, probably Alexia rushing around the place trying to get everything that was necessary.

She had never been as nervous as she was now. Not during Champions League finales, not while taking game-winning penalty kicks, not at the World Cup, no. Nothing would ever compare to the stress she felt right now. The hospital bag that had been sat at the door for weeks seemingly didn't have everything, according to Alexia's thoughts (it definitely had way more than necessary, but you didn't have the heart to tell her that), so she haphazardly threw in some more stuff that she could find around the house. Why you'd need a cutting board, she doesn't know. She still threw it in there. A mop? Probably handy for something, no? She threw the door to your apartment closed behind her and rushed downstairs, Ingrid and Mapi already helping you in the car as she threw the bag in the trunk and rushed over to the driver side.

"Stay with her, Ingrid," Alexia said. "Hold her hand in the back seat, por favor." Your fiancée's voice was laced with worry, but you couldn't find it in you to try and console her. You knew she didn't have to rush like was doing right now, it was going to be hours before you'd actually go into labor, but the contractions were getting more frequent and were definitely getting more painful, leaving you speechless and crushing Ingrid's hand. Mapi sat next to Alexia in the passenger seat and you were slowly realizing that probably wasn't the best of ideas, the two women both as nervous as each other and not helping one another in the slightest at calming down.

The ride to the hospital was less than smooth, and you could hear Ingrid scolding Alexia every couple minutes for her driving. She was speeding, definitely also crossed a red light, traffic fines be damned. You arrived in 12 minutes, 5 minutes less than it'd took the last time you practiced the drive to the hospital. Alexia stepped out of her driver seat and rushed to the other side of the car, helping Ingrid with getting you out of the backseat of her car. "Lean on me, amor, it's not far, okay?" You were relatively sure you would be able to keep yourself standing, but the idea of leaning your body weight into your fiancée was to enticing to turn down.

Once you were inside and registered, everything went by in a flurry. You were led to a room where you'd have to wait until you had enough dilation to actually go into labour. You went from contraction to contraction, each one getting worse than the other, up to the point where you felt like you had to get your baby out. They had completely dropped, and you could feel them pushing against your underside. The waiting felt endless, and you felt like an eternity went by until you were finally cleared to go into labour. It had been an eternity to be fair, having had to wait the best part of 5 hours.

Alexia stayed with you during labour, whispering words of affirmation and motivation in your ear whilst you worked your way through birthing your baby. It was rough, painful, hard, it was ugly. You screamed, cried, yelled, you got angry, but it was all for a good cause. You were pretty sure that you bruised Alexia's hand as you held it through it all, but not a fiber in your body could be bothered with anything but pushing the human past your lips out of your belly into the world.

At 4:03am, you finally did it. You felt like a massive weight had been lifted off your shoulders. You had successfully birthed your little baby, and they were healthy. Alexia got to cut the umbilical cord, something she felt quite apprehensive about, but an experience she wouldn't want to trade for the world. "Mi amor, you did it, look at him." Alexia leaned her forehead against yours as the nurses were cleaning up your son, preparing him for some skin-to-skin contact in a couple moments. You closed your eyes and breathed her in, a small smile forming on your lips despite the heavy exhaustion that rested on your limbs. "Sorry about your hand," you whispered. "No sorry. I'll let you bruise my hand a thousand times if that means we get to have a healthy son."

You felt an overwhelming sense of gratification and love as Alexia pressed a tender kiss against your forehead. You stayed like that for a couple moments, until the nurses finished cleaning up your son and waddling him in a little blanket. Now came a time what they called the golden hour, a critical moment for the newborn and their mother to bond. Your son was softly placed on your chest, your hands being guided to support him and his head appropriately. He stirred a little, but seemed to find a comfortable position to rest in, and seemed to fall asleep quite quickly. You felt tears well up in your eyes at the perfect sight in front of you. Finally, after trying for so long, you had a perfectly healthy baby laying on your bare chest. It was yours. Yours and Alexia's.

You cradled his head and kept him close to you while he slept, your fingers trailing across his tiny body. "He's so small," you whispered. You looked up at Alexia when you didn't get a response, noticing her sitting on the chair next to your bed, with unshed tears in her eyes. "Oh, baby," you cooed, holding out your unoccupied hand for her to take. She intertwined her fingers with yours and brought your hand up to her lips, pressing a gentle kiss against it. "You did it," she mumbled, repeating the same words from before. You chuckled. "Yeah, I did," you spoke softly. You stayed in silence for some time until your son started to stir a little. The nurses had said that he'd probably not be able to sleep for too long before he'd have to eat.

"I think he's hungry, Ale." The brunette perked up and stood from the chair, accompanying you by the side of the bed. "Want me to call a nurse? Or will you manage yourself?" You contemplated the options. "You should call a nurse. Just to be sure." It didn't take long for someone to arrive in the room, and she assured you that you did the right thing by calling someone over. With the help of the nurse you unbuttoned the hospital robe further and helped your son settle against your exposed breast, guiding his head to your nipple. He latched on immediately, and an unfamiliar feeling overcame you as you felt his little mouth sucking on your nipple. "Are you okay, bebé?" You nodded, relaxing a little deeper into the bed and holding your son tight against you so he could nurse. Alexia watched on in awe as you fed your newborn baby. She was amazed by everything that was happening, by her child, by you. More tears welled up in her eyes as she watched you nurse him, feeling overwhelmed by the love for her newfound family. She cupped the back of your head with her hand and guided your face towards hers, locking gazes. "You're incredible. Te amo." You smiled brightly at your fiancée and responded, "I love you so much."

The rest of the night went on smoothly, and by the time the clock hit 5:30 you were all settled again. Your son had nursed perfectly, settling some of the nerves you'd had around the whole feeding process. The nurse assured that everything was fine with him, and also gave the okay to Alexia to take him from you if she wanted to. She hesitated, worried that she in some way would break him if she took him away from your chest. "Bebé, what if I drop him?" You withheld a chuckle, quickly realizing that she was being way more serious than you thought she was. "Alexia, you won't drop him. I promise you. You're going to do so good." You tried to reassure her, but her eyes were still laced with worry as she leaned over to you. You let her take him from you, guiding her hands and arms to support his body and his head appropriately, and then she was holding him. She was holding him. In her arms. He slightly stirred, both you and Alexia holding your breath as he let out a little cry, but he quickly settled against her chest, breathing out a deep sigh.

You stared at the scene in front of you like a lovesick puppy, and you weren't sure anything in your life would ever top the way you felt right now. In front of you was your fiancée, soon-to-be wife, who was holding your son, your little wonder that you had the privilege of carrying for the past 37 weeks. In this moment, you couldn't imagine that you ever even contemplated giving up on your IVF journey. Then you wouldn't have had the pleasure to extend your family of 2 into a very happy family of 3. "He's so perfect," Alexia whispered, carefully not to wake up your son. She softly traced a finger over his face, his tiny nose, down to his tummy. "So small." She continued her path down to his legs and then his sock-covered feet, admiring the way they both fit right into her hand.

"Want me to call the girls over?" You questioned softly, not wanting to ruin the moment, but Alexia had told you earlier that Mapi and Ingrid were still waiting in the waiting room and you didn't want to hold them from any sleep any longer than you had to. They were professional athletes at last, and even though they were on a break, it wasn't the best for them to be out of their sleep rhythm for this long. "Sí, you can call them." You did, and it didn't take much longer than a minute for the two girls to enter your room.

You met their gazes and noticed how tears welled up in both their eyes, seeing their ever so stern captain holding her son with so much love and adoration in her eyes. "Dios mío, es tan pequeño," Mapi whispered, slowly inching closer to where Alexia was stood, close to your bed. You could see the tiredness etched across their face, but neither Mapi nor Ingrid would've missed this moment for a lifetime. "What's his name?" Ingrid asked, her gaze pointed towards you. "James."

You and Alexia had disagreed on everything until you found the name you eventually agreed on. She didn't like what you liked, and you didn't like what she liked. But when you stumbled across James, a Hebrew name with Greek roots, the equivalent of Jaume, your minds were made up.

"James", Mapi whispered, leaning over your son and softly tracing along his nose with your finger. "He's perfect, wow. Congratulations to both of you. You're going to be amazing parents."

You soaked up the love from the moment. The clock was nearing 6 now, and you were beyond exhausted, but the sight of your fiancée cradling your son close to her chest is what kept you going. Your little Christmas miracle. You wouldn't change it for the world.

[sqtorux]

saying somethin' stupid like 'i love you'

fwb!gojo saying the forbidden L word during the deed ????

slightly nsfw, minors please don't interact. also fluff bc i miss gojo :(

not proof read !

thankyou so much for all the support on my recent ♡

satoru thinks you're so cruel. one minute you're holding onto him, nails digging into his back as if you needed him to live.

chanting his name so so beautifully as he trapped you between his bare body and the bed, relentlessly thrusting into you.

and then the next you were back to acting like even his mere existence irritated you. in a way it does but not in the way he thinks.

not once had you been there the morning after. only the crumpled sheets and your nail marks served as reminders that you were here, with him.

“gojo can you not-”

“that wasn't what you called me last night. what happened to toru?”

you glare daggers at him as one of his hand held your notebook high up. he was ridiculously tall and he liked abusing that privilege. especially against you.

“shut up” you walk past him without bothering to take your book.

“hey you mad baby?” he chuckled, getting in front of you, stopping you again.

“come on, answer me. why'd you leave? i thought we agreed to go to class together hmm?”

you roll your eyes at him and crossed your arms.

“that's what you said. i didn't agree.”

“aw you're too mean” he pouted as you scowl and try passing him again only to be stopped by his hand on your arm.

“i wanted you to stay.” his words were heavy, his face not showing even the slightest bit of his shit eating grin he always has on.

he turns to you, his round sunglasses were low on his nose and you could see his oh so beautiful eyes.

you look away because if you don't, you were pretty sure you'd be hypnotised and you'd do whatever he wanted.

“if you keep doing this i won't stay over anymore.” your words shot a painful jab at your own abdomen. his grip around you loosened slowly until he lets go completely.

“alright then.” he hands you your notebook, more like placed them into your arms as he walked away, eyes never meeting yours.

the next ‘sleepover’ took place three days after the banter with satoru. he hadn't called or texted the whole time but when you asked if he was up for it, he replied almost immediately.

so here you were again, him ramming into you as you cling onto his bare body for dear life. you could feel your climax coming as your grip grew tighter and tighter.

satoru was the same, chasing his high. he had missed you a lot the past three days but tried distancing himself just so his feelings for you would simmer down.

it only resulted him thinking about you all day and even more during the night. he finds himself wishing you were here with him, either giving you the pleasure you both agreed upon or just you laying down next to him. he didn't care.

he just wanted you to be there. with him.

and now that you are, his heart clenches the way you clench around him as the both of you cummed simultaneously.

he holds your body tight as you both work your way through the orgasm, euphoria rushing through both your veins.

“fuck y/n…” he groaned as he felt your grip loosen. he can't let you go just yet.

“i love you”

he hadn't meant to say it really. not like this at least.

“satoru we've been through this-” you push him weakly but he stays grounded, eyes boring into yours.

“i mean it.” he says, one of his hands found themselves caressing your cheeks as the other supported him while he hovered above you.

“you don't have to say it back or… feel it back…” satoru's voice was full of emotion.

“but just give me a chance to show you how much i love you. then we can work things out from there.”

you find yourself falling into the charms of gojo satoru. it's not everyday he offers his heart to someone. he doesn't offer it at all but now here he is, handing it to you on a silver platter.

“alright”

you could see satoru's face visibly light up and his blue eyes gleammed. he leaned down to place a soft kiss on your lips.

“thankyou” he traced his fingers on your jaw, his touch so soft, so addicting.

“you better treat me like a princess” you chuckle as he physically melted at the sound.

“oh i plan to do exactly that, and more, lovely.” he leaned down to place another kiss on your lips.

[mrsfudd]

Behind your back-final part

warnings: fighting, cursing

not proofread lmao

It had been 3 weeks since your big fallout with Paige and KK. Paige had been icing you out which was expected. You guys have had fights before obviously, just not to this extent. You’re still her baby sister and you’ve been hoping she can swallow her pride and forgive you. With KK though it was different. She didn’t owe you anything and you knew it was going to take something big to win her over…hopefully.

“Girl, you skipped your morning class again?” Chloe asked.

Your roommate Chloe has been helping you process the whole thing. Your friends back home could only help so much, they could barely understand the full story. For that reason Chloe has really been your backbone.

“KK has a class in the hall right next to time, the last time I saw her I wanted to die I felt so bad.” You said laying on the couch.

“Y/N, you cant hide forever. You’re too grown to be acting like this. Grow up and do the right thing.” Chloe said with a tone that only comes out ever so often.

“I don’t know chlo, I know she doesn’t wanna hear from me and Im not gonna make the situation worse” You say.

“So, talk to someone who might.” Chloe said while tossing your phone on your stomach.

You haven’t talked to Paige in a few days, when you did talk it was only about your mom or siblings. Maybe a mention of how the basketball season was going but never anything after that. She was treating you like you were kids again and you stole something out of her room. It was childish but what else could you do.

You: Paige

sissy 💕: what

You: can we talk, ik ur mad but i said i’m sorry

sissy 💕: i said its fine

You: dont be like that, js ttm p pls

sissy 💕: alr bru ill come by in a few

This is the longest Paige had been mad at you and it was really causing a rift in your relationship. You love your other siblings but you and Paige have always been close. You were happy she was coming to talk but nervous on how it was going to go.

“Y/N, open the door” Paige said monotone.

“Hey P” You said opening it and walking back to the couch.

You sat down and she just walked around and stood against the wall.

“Paige im sorry” you said with a voice crack.

“I know” Paige said while texting.

“What the fuck is your deal Paige? Im sorry I know you feel betrayed but you have to realize I was doing it for you okay? To protect your feelings so if what makes me a bad person then whatever but im not gonna sit here and let you give me these dirty ass looks like im one of your opps or something” You scream.

“Y/N, you need to stop acting like the world revolves around you. You’re so fucking spoiled I cant stand it. You’ve been treated like a princess your whole life and you expect everyone to forgive you and be at your beck and call. Grow the fuck up and own up to your shit. I don’t care about your dumbass sorry Y/N. You hurt one of my best friends so im not in the mood to listen to one of your sob stories” Paige yelled right back.

“Finally some emotion Paige! You’ve had your back turned to me for weeks. You keep saying I need to grow up and im trying. You and your fucking ego Paige I cant. Im trying to do the right thing but nothing is fucking good enough for you. The fact that you can sit here and say I’m spoiled is crazy, your fucking spoiled Paige. I know I hurt KK and im trying to make it right but I cant with you two walking around campus catching a attitude every time you see me” You yell trying to hold back tears but one falls.

“Now you’re fucking crying? This is exactly what im talking about bro. Grow up Y/N.” Paige said throwing her hands up.

“Yes! Yes I am. I have nobody Paige. I don’t have friends anymore, I don’t have KK and the one person who I expected to always be by my side hates me. I tried Paige I really did, i’ve apologized more times than I can count. I don’t know what to do Paige, im sorry.” You say full on crying now.

“Y/N hey wait” Paige said finally lowering her tone.

“Just leave Paige, I don’t care anymore” You said wiping your face.

“Y/N stop, i’m sorry” Paige said walking closer to you.

Paige finally caved. She still had a soft spot for her little sister and knew this wasn’t worth fighting about for so long.

Paige came to give you a hug and you completely broke down. Paige rubbed your back letting you vent about all you’ve been feeling and how if you wish you could go back and change it all you would in a heartbeat.

After you had calmed down, you and your sister spent hours together laughing and giggling talking about your favorite childhood memories. It felt so good to finally make up with someone so important to you. You guys had ordered food and hung out till it was dark outside. Everything was calm until Paige asked a question that made your heart drop.

“So sis, what are you gonna do about KK?” Paige asked with a eyebrow raise.

“I have no clue” You said looking down picking at your nails.

“Well I think you should text her you know, break the ice maybe?” Paige said passing you your phone.

“I guess so P” You said hesitant.

You: hey kk u busy?

KK baby 😘: nah why

Before you could respond Paige showed you her groupchat with KK sending a screenshot of your text saying “i wonder what she has to say”. At first you felt a wave of nervousness run through your body but with closer examination you seen that she still as your contact saved as “my princess 👩🏽‍❤️‍💋‍👩🏾” and you had a slight feeling that there was hope in rekindling your relationship.

You: ik u prob dont wanna talk but i cant stop thinking about you

Before you could say anything else Paige showed you KKs text asking what she should say to you.

“Dont worry, I got you” Paige chuckled.

KK baby 😘: u wanna meet up n talk?

You: yea can i come to ur place

KK baby 😘: doors open

“Oh my goshh” Paige said while shaking you by your shoulders.

“Stop you don’t even know whats gonna happen” You say getting up and putting your shoes on.

“Have funn, don’t make it worse Y/N” Paige said walking into the kitchen.

The walk over to KKs dorm was sickening. The thought of being in a room alone with her was enough to make you puke but you stayed strong.

You loved KK and was determined to make sure she knew that.

You gave a slight knock before walking into her dorm.

"KK?" You say softly, extremely nervous.

"Hey Y/N" KK said in basically a whisper.

Before you could say anything else KK cut you off.

"So what did you want?" KK said with a real attitude.

"I just wanted you to know that I was sorry and that I didnt mean to hurt you. I-" You said.

"Y/N, Y/N stop I know this already. You've sent me numerous paragraphs about how sorry you are" KK cut you off, walking closer to you.

"I know, im sorry um again but I jus-" You said before KK cut you off again.

"What do you have to say Y/N, im tired of the sorrys" KK said.

You took a big breath and swallowed before saying " KK, I cant function with knowing you and me aren't on good terms. You are everything to me and I should of made that known before. I know that doesn't make what I did any better but I was scared and I was being dumb and I-"

"Thats right you were dumb, but continue " KK said while cracking a little smile.

"All I wanted you to know is that I love you KK, like none of that fake bullshit like l genuinely love you and I miss you and I know this isn't fixing anything but I cant leave here without you knowing this. I completely understand if you hate me because what I did was really shitty but im sorry. I want you in my life and I never meant to make you feel anything different" You blurted out terrified for her reaction.

"Y/N, I could never hate you" KK said with a soft tone.

Before you could get anything else out KK said "I miss you too Y/N, if im being completely honest I get why you did what you did. Not saying I agree with it but I understand. Our relationship had started off on the wrong foot anyway"

"Soo, does this mean I get a redo?" You said smirking.

"Y/N don't push your luck" KK said.

Your heart dropped and you were about to start apologizing again until you seen KKs smile. She was the light in your life and you were hers.

KK walked closer to you and pulled you in by your waist. She pulled you in tight wrapping her strong arms around you.

KK had you stuck in her embrace for what it felt like hours. Her muscles relaxed as she felt you.

For weeks she'd been feeling like a part of her was missing, you were missing.

"I love you baby" KK whispered in your ear.

"I love you more" You whispered back.

8 days later

You, KK, Paige, and a few other girls from the team were all hanging out in Janas dorm. Some of the girls admitted they missed you and were pissed at Paige for leaving you out.

KK had took a picture of the you and her kissing and was planning on posting it.

"Mama what song should I use" KK asked while laying on you.

"Any baby im not sure" You said playing with her hair.

Paige had walked past you and playfully pushed your shoulder making you laugh.

You went through so many ups and downs trying to navigate the 2 most important relationships in your life. The tears shed and arguments on arguments seem like nothing now. You were finally at peace. No more secrets or hiding. You had everything you needed, ready to enjoy life with the people you love the most.

@private-but-not-a-secret @teddygrahamslam @syraxsbigfanfr @destinybueckers44

[kwanisms]

Kinktober 「10:10」 — j.yunho

» ateez menu | yunho menu | kinktober masterlist «

➮ wereleopard!Yunho × fem!Reader wc: 3.3k summary: Yunho hadn’t been on a date in ages when he managed to land a date with his cute coworker, Y/N. Cue one awkward first date and a handful of other successful ones, Yunho feels like he’s starting to settle into his growing relationship. The only thing holding him back is that his girlfriend is so small and it drives him mad with the desire to pin her down and unleash his inner beast. He finally comes clean when Y/N asks him why they aren’t more intimate. genres/themes/au: angst/fluff/smut; supernatural, horror, thriller; non idol au, monster idol au warnings: adult dialogue, female reader, reader is smaller than yunho by a lot mention of alcohol consumption, supernatural and horror themes, mentions of: caffeine consumption (coffee lol), office dynamics, work relationships, coworkers to lovers, leopard mating habits in the wild (lol); sexual content (18+ mdni), see smut warnings under the cut! taglist has been moved to reblogs join my taglists! kinktober taglist is closed! Strikethrough means I cannot tag you.  MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED. AGELESS BLOGS WILL ALSO BE BLOCKED.

a/n: i had a lot of fun with this one and like i mention in the smut warnings under the cut, Yunho's cock is... less than human lol. if that bothers you, don't read this. I'm not called monsterfucker for no reason! i don't really have much else to say about this so thank you for reading and as always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only.

smut warnings: teratophilia (aka monsterfucking), size kink, praise (f receiving), unprotected sex (use condoms pls), use of pet names (baby, babe, sweetheart, kitty, little one, etc), dom!Yunho, sub!Reader, Yun has a huge d!ck (because of course he does), biting (f receiving), scratching (f receiving), non-human genitalia (because he’s a werecat, he has a barbed d!ck. Does it make sense? No. Do I care? Also no. don’t like it, don’t read it ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ i’m not responsible for your media consumption lol), I think that’s all but just let me know if I missed something. kinks: Size kink + praise dialogue prompt: ❛❛ Try to stay quiet for me, kitten. Can you do that? ❜❜

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Being a werecat had its advantages and its disadvantages.

For instance, Yunho was extremely agile, light on his feet, and fast despite his large stature. All positives in his book. He was always the fastest and most graceful in gym class. Everything athletic came naturally to him. 

The cons were it was rough on his dating life. In his teens, he didn’t even bother dating because he was too busy with school and sports but when he finished college and started working, dating became a strange and foreign landscape for him.

Until he met you of course.

When he first encountered you in the break room, he froze upon seeing your tiny frame at the coffee maker. He’d been working at the office for six months by that point and he’d never seen you before. The moment you turned away from the counter, stirring your mug of coffee, and your locked eyes with him, Yunho knew it was all over for him.

You were quite possibly the most beautiful person he’d ever seen, your light makeup and soft lip color. The cream and black button down blouse with sheer sleeves and the tight black pencil skirt that hit just below your knees, hugging and showing off your curves had him weak in the knees.

He was doomed before you even opened your mouth.

You quickly introduced yourself, stepping forward to shake his hand. The feeling of your tiny hand in his was one he would not forget easily. You were so small compared to him. It ignited within him the desire to protect you from the entire office. 

He learned you were part of the IT department while he worked in human resources. You were a transfer from another location of the same company and had just started a few days ago. Yunho took you under his wing immediately despite having only been there a few months but he knew if he didn’t act now, someone else might beat him to it.

You started taking your lunches together and sending messages back and forth. Yunho started to show you around the city when you were off work and you became fast friends.

That friendship for him blossomed quickly into a work crush but he never in a million years thought you might also like him and so when he overheard you telling another coworker about your work crush, his heart sank, thinking you had developed feelings for someone else.

It wasn’t until he heard you say his name that he perked up and realized that you liked him back.

It took him an embarrassingly long time to work up the courage to ask you out and when he finally did, you accepted his invitation for dinner immediately. He’d worried himself so much with you potentially rejecting him, despite knowing you had a crush on him, that he didn’t even have a plan in place for the date but he quickly mapped it all out, scoring a reservation at a really nice place near the river.

Dinner was amazing, the food was spectacular, the conversation was flowing as was the wine and afterwards, the two of you found yourselves walking by the river, admiring the lights of the city. Yunho wanted more than anything to hold your hand and when he finally took the plunge and took your hand in his, he was a goner.

The date ended with him walking you to the bus stop and you had ask him to bend down so you could kiss his cheek before boarding the bus bound for home. Yunho had ridden that high for the rest of the weekend leading into the following Monday and safe to say, he was already smitten.

One date turned into two, which turned into another and soon the two of you agreed to be exclusive. There were thankfully no rules in place that prohibited dating coworkers so long as the two parties weren’t in the same department which you and Yunho were not so it was allowed.

Months flew by and while your relationship progressed romantically and emotionally, physically was another story. That’s not to say you hadn’t kissed. Of course you had. Yunho loved nothing more than kissing you, especially when you were perched on his lap but it never progressed past that.

Yunho was afraid of hurting you. He was quite large, not just in stature. His nature as a wereleopard also meant that he was a great deal more… animalistic. He didn’t have normal human parts. Just like a male cat had spikes on its penis, Yunho had similar protrusions, albeit not as sharp but he knew that it couldn’t be comfortable, having those raking against the inside of your body.

On top of that, he was afraid he might be too rough with you. So as much as he didn’t want to, he often pulled back when things got a little too heated.

It was no different as he sat on your couch, having come over with take out on a Friday night, your designated date nights. That night it was a night in with take out and a show the two of you had gotten into together. Empty takeout containers sat on the coffee table along with a half empty bottle of wine and empty wine glasses.

The tv played softly in the background as you sat perched on Yunho’s lap, fingers twisting through his hair gently as your lips moved against one another, tongues meeting in a languid dance, neither seeking control. His large hands held your tiny waist as you moaned into his mouth, grinding lightly against him.

Yunho had started the evening with an erection, covering it with one of your blankets while you ate and watched TV but when you climbed on top of him, he couldn’t hide it anymore as it strained against his pants, begging for release. When you rolled your hips again, pulling away to leave a trail of kisses down the column of his neck, Yunho finally spoke up.

“Baby,” he croaked, voice hoarse from having not used it in a long while. “Hmm?” you hummed, kisses down to the spot where his neck and shoulder met, a sweet spot of his. You pulled the collar of his shirt away to kiss and nip at the spot, making his mind go blank briefly.

“I-” Yunho let out a moan as your tongue ran along the exposed skin. “I should probably get going.”

You raised your head, lips brushing against his ear. “Why?” you whispered. “Tomorrow is Saturday,” you reminded him. “We don’t work tomorrow.” You pressed soft, wet kisses on the underside of his jaw, one of your hands sliding from his hair down his chest. “You could finally sleep over,” you murmured as your hand continued its path, one that was heading right for the front of his jeans.

“I-I…” Yunho was grasping for a reason to not spend the night despite the fact that he so desperately wanted to. God did he want to spent the night so fucking bad. He wanted more than anything to take you to bed, make love to you and wake up next to you in the morning.

“Please spend the night, Yuyu,” you cooed softly, fingers moving to undo the button of his jeans. Yunho snapped out of it and firmly pushed you back, holding you steadily on his lap as he looked at you with wide eyes. You stared at him in confusion. He could only imagine what was going through your head.

“It’s not a good idea,” he finally said. Your expressions shifted from confusion to dejected as he rejected your advances yet again. ‘Fuck. Don’t look at me like that.’ He hated telling you no, especially when he wanted the exact opposite. “I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he said softly. “It’s just…” he trailed off, knowing there was no easy way to explain his reluctance to you.

Never did he expect that you thought the problem was you.

“Do you not want me?”

Your question paired with the crestfallen look on your face made his heart break.

“You think I don’t want you?” he asked softly, moving a hand to cup your cheek. “Baby,” he said with a sigh as you leaned into his touch. “I want you so bad. I want you so bad it hurts,” he continued. “I’m just trying to protect you.” Your eyes opened to look at him. “Protect me?” you asked. “From what?”

Yunho let out a heavy sigh. “From me.”

Your brows knitted together in confusion. “I don’t understand…” you whispered. Yunho took a deep breath before speaking. “I’m not normal, Y/N,” he started, taking your hands in his, pressing his palms against yours before lacing your fingers together. “I’ve told you about the curse,” he explained, looking up as you nodded. “That you’re a wereleopard,” you replied.

“Well, there are things about me that look human and for the most part, I am rather ordinary,” he continued to explain, looking down at your intertwined hands. “But in some ways I’m quite… odd.” You let out an impatient noise, pulling your hands from his and pushing his shoulders back so he was leaning against the back of the couch, you leaning against him as you twisted your fingers into his hair, playing with his locks. “I’d say extraordinary,” you argued with a smile.

Yunho couldn’t help the smile that rose to his face. “You’re sweet,” he said softly, giving you a quick kiss. “But I’m serious,” he added, smile falling. “I wish I could explain it,” he continued with a sigh. “But it’s difficult.” You pressed a couple kisses to his lips and cheek. “Then show me,” you suggested. “Please Yuyu?” you added when he opened his mouth to protest.

“Baby, I don’t want to freak you out. It’s… weird.”

You frowned, sitting up and looking at him. “You are many things, Jeong Yunho, and weird may be one of them but that’s never deterred me before, has it?” you asked, tilting your head. Yunho smiled again, a chuckle rising up from his chest. “No, I suppose it hasn’t.” The smile returned to your face.

“Then just show me,” you repeated. “I promise I won’t go running for the hills.”

Yunho sighed and nodded, guiding you off his lap. “Just, promise me you won’t… freak out?” he asked as he started to undo his jeans. You nodded. “I promise, babe,” you replied, eyes wide with excitement as he undid his jeans, pulling the zipper down slowly. He raised his hips, pushing his jeans halfway down his thighs. 

You could see his cock already straining against his underwear, a dark patch of precum staining the fabric. It made your mouth water and soon you wanted more than to just see it. Yunho took a deep breath before sliding his hand into his boxers, pulling his cock free and your eyes widened as you took in the sight.

It was not what you were expecting. It was mostly human shaped, flesh colored with a bulbous head darker than the rest. A small bead of precum seeping out of the slit. The shaft was pale, veiny like most cocks but what set it apart from the rest were the small bumps around the base of the head. You leaned in closer to inspect, seeing that the bumps were actually pointed.

You looked up at Yunho. “Can I touch it?” you asked softly. Yunho looked surprised by your lack of disgust and that you were more curious and willing to touch him. He nodded, moving his hand to the base of his cock as you reached out a small hand, fingers wrapping around his cock just under the head.

Seeing your tiny hand on his cock nearly sent him over the edge but he managed to keep his composure as your fingers moved, dancing lightly over the head of his cock. “Oh,” you said, sounding surprised as you rubbed the pad of your finger over the spines of his cock. “I thought they would be sharper,” you murmured. Yunho was struggling to keep his breathing steady as you wrapped your fingers around his cock once more. He let out a hiss, head falling back onto the couch cushion.

Curiously, you leaned over, giving the very tip of his cock a lick, cleaning the precum that had gathered there. Yunho let out a gasp, hips bucking as you sat back up, giving him a cheeky smile. “It’s not weird,” you finally said. “I think it’s actually neat,” you added, glancing down at his cock. “I wonder what it feels like,” you added, fingers brushing the spines once more.

“You wanna find out?” Yunho asked, his voice dropping an octave. You looked up at him, meeting his dark gaze. Wordlessly, you nodded. “Yes,” you breathed out as he held out a hand. “God yes,” you exclaimed, taking his hand. He pulled you back onto his lap, pulling you into a kiss as you settled against his cock, the underside pressing against your cloth covered crotch.

“Fuck,” Yunho groaned as you kissed down his neck, fingers moving to undo the buttons of his shirt. Once you had it undone, you pushed the material aside, exposing his toned chest and abs. “C’mere,” he said, grabbing the back of your neck and pulling you into another heated kiss, tongue sliding against yours messily. “One second,” you murmured, pulling away.

Yunho watched as you climbed off him, tucking your thumbs into your shorts and slowly pushing them down, along with your underwear until it fell to your feet. Stepping out of them, you quickly removed your shirt and climbed back onto his lap as he shrugged his own shirt off, having removed his pants and underwear while you were stripping.

“Wait,” Yunho said as you grabbed his cock, lining the tip with your slit. “I need to prep you, baby,” he said as you sat down, sinking on his cock. You let out a moan, taking the head of his cock with ease. “Fuuuuck,” Yunho moaned, head falling back as his hands gripped your waist tightly.

He underestimated how wet you were as your walls enveloped him. “So big,” you moaned, pausing halfway down his shaft. “It’s okay,” Yunho cooed. “Take your time, little one.” You moaned, resting your forehead against his, your hot breaths mixing together as your body slowly adjusted to the massive intrusion.

As you sank further, taking more of his thick cock inside you, the bumps added to the sensation. Each inch stung, a dull burn as your cunt stretched around him. “Fuck, taking me so well, kitty,” he purred, reaching up to cup your cheek. “Can you take more?”

Without answering, you sank further until the tip of his cock was pressed against your cervix. You had taken every single inch without prep like a champ and Yunho would not forget it. Nor would he let you forget it. “Such a good girl, taking all of my cock. It’s like you were made for me.”

Your walls squeezed around him. “Fuck, you’re so tiny,” he said, as his hands moved up your sides. “Such a small little kitty taking my cock like a good girl.” The praise went straight to your core and you wanted more. As you raised your hips, you let out a strained moan, feeling the spines at the base of his cock head lightly rake against your walls.

“Oh holy shit,” you gasped, freezing. Yunho’s hands steadied you. “Are you okay?” he asked breathlessly. You nodded. “It’s different,” you answered. “But I like it.” You continued, more of his cock sliding out of you as the spines scratched the inside of your cunt. You sank back down on him, moaning loudly as the tip of his cock hit your ceRvix.

“F-fuck!” Yunho groaned, fingers digging into your skin as you started to move faster, bouncing on his cock, each pull dragging the spines against your walls and making you cry out. It didn’t hurt but it was definitely a much different feeling. It took ‘ribbed for her pleasure’ to a whole new level.

Your thighs started to burn as you tried your best to keep up but Yunho could tell you were getting tired and your legs were going to give out any moment with the way they were shaking. “Stop,” he gasped. “Let me.” Yunho easily turned, depositing you onto the couch on your back and was sliding back into your walls, as he pushed your thighs to your chest.

You cried out as he thrust into you roughly, feeling the spines on his cock drag against your walls. “Yunnie!” you whined as he fucked you against the couch, the room filling with the sound of his hips hitting yours with each thrust. Your hands moved to his back as he pounded into you, the feeling of his hard cock ramming into your cervix making you cry out.

Yunho let out a growl as he felt your nails raked down his back, the feeling spurring him on. Just as quickly as he started, he pulled out of you. He easily maneuvered you onto your stomach, re-entering you from behind and stilling there as he peppered kisses along your shoulder.

“Try to stay quiet for me, kitten. Can you do that?”

You nodded eagerly but the moment he started moving, you were unable to keep quiet as he slammed into you roughly. He never expected you to actually keep quiet but he thought he might as well try seeing as you had neighbors. They would just have to deal with the noise.

You pushed back to meet his thrusts, making him groan into your neck. You cried out in both pain and pleasure as you felt his teeth sink into your shoulder, his hips never faltering as he fucked you roughly. It was much more raw and animalistic than you’d ever had it but you loved every second of it.

“F-fuck,” you cursed. “M’gonna cum, Yunnie!” 

Your whimpers and moans urged him on, hips snapping against your ass with a renewed vigor as he pushed you towards your orgasm. “That’s it,” he breathed in your ear, letting go of your shoulder and leaving a deep impression of his teeth in your skin. “Cum on my cock like a good kitty.”

Your walls spasmed around him as you came with a cry of his name. He didn’t stop, chasing his own high as he thrust harshly into you until his own orgasm finally washed over him, releasing his cum into you with one final thrust. You let out another moan as his seed filled your cunt and he stayed there, making sure every last drop made it into your spent hole.

As you lay there, panting and covered in sweat, Yunho littered kiss after kiss along your shoulder, licking the spot he’d bitten down on before kiss up your neck and cheek as you turned your face towards him. “That’s why you were keeping from me?” you asked breathlessly with a chuckle.

Yunho laughed, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “I thought you wouldn’t like it,” he admitted. “I can be an animal in bed, or in this case, couch.” You laughed again, letting out a sigh. “Next time, let’s do it on the bed,” you murmured. “More space.” Yunho chuckled. “Give me five and I’ll be ready to go again.” You lifted your head, turning to look at him.

“Again?” you asked, eyes wide. You were exhausted. How was he not? Yunho chuckled as he pressed a kiss to your temple. “I told you,” he replied. “I’m not entirely like normal men. I’m a wereleopard.” He turned your face towards him, pulling you into a kiss as you felt his cock start to harden within your walls.

“And in the wild, leopards mate up to over two hundred times over a few days,” he added between kisses. He pulled back to look at you with a devious smile.

“And we have all weekend, sweetheart.”

©️ kwanisms 2024 | all works on this blog are protected under copyright. Do not repost, continue, or translate my works. All graphics made by me.

[prythiansprincess]

── .✦ DAY FIVE | [02/18] : TOM. ♡ ₊˚⊹

prythian's princess presents... day five of the valentine special ⋆.˚ .ᐟ this one is dedicated to my love, my darling, my angel @writingsbychlo who wholeheartedly understands my need to be stalked and chased through the woods by tommy.

[stalking] — unwanted and/or repeated surveillance or contact by an individual toward another person.

[voyeurism] — the practice of obtaining sexual gratification from observing others while they are naked or engaged in sexual activity.

home ✦ special ✦ more

tom riddle knew that what he was doing was wrong.

the problem was that he simply did not care.

he wasn't weighed down by silly notions of morals and virtues. while most people subscribed to the archaic notion of good and evil, tom was more realistic. in truth, the choices and actions one made were very rarely so black and white. often, they fell somewhere between right and wrong; a morally grey area in which tom chose to operate.

all his life, he toed the proverbial line, testing the boundaries of ethics. most of the time, the acts he committed were neither completely right or completely wrong, which allowed for plausible deniability. this time though, even tom couldn't deny his own immorality. stalking you was undeniably and irrevocably wrong, but he simply did not care.

the black lake lapped against the shore as he took cover behind a tree. from his hiding place, tom had a clear view of you walking down to the edge of the pier, looking behind you every now and then to ensure that you were alone. you weren’t. though you were completely unaware of his presence, tom accompanied you for every one of your nightly swims.

as always, you toed your shoes off and stripped off your shirt and skirt. most nights, you wore a skimpy bikini, but sometimes you skipped it altogether and swam in your bra and panties instead. tonight, tom peered out from the cover of darkness as you unhooked your bra and slipped your panties off. the moonlight glistened against your skin, tracing your curves and edges in a way that tom would kill to be able to do. he drank in your ethereal expression, head tilted up to the skies as the night cascaded down your long, elegant neck, between the valley of your breasts where your nipples stiffened against the cold air, trailing down to your supple ass and succulent thighs.

the goddess of beauty herself had nothing on you, tom thought. the very image of your naked body would be burned into his memory like a brand. this would be what he thought about when he got himself off later, imagining that it was your delicate hand wrapped around his cock. tom felt the front of his pants tighten at the thought, groaning at the stiffness of his erection.

the noise drew your attention and you looked over your shoulder, scanning the beach warily. for a second, tom could have sworn that your gaze snagged on his hiding spot, almost as if you sensed his presence. watching, waiting, wanting.

tom had always been careful, but something about the way you bit your lip in anticipation made him consider throwing caution to the wind. he lurked in waiting, the tension weighing heavy as you turned around to fully face the shore.

“I know you’re there, tom.” the soft breeze carried the cadence of your lovely voice, its call like a siren song in his hears.

all these months, tom thought that he had been careful. he purposely watched from a distance, following you only when there was no one else present, sneaking into your dorm and installing cameras while you were in class. outside of these clandestine meetings, tom never even acknowledged you. he was so certain that you were none the wiser to his obsession, but clearly he had been wrong in his assumptions.

“don’t be shy,” you rasped as your lips curved up into a devious smile. “i’m not mad. in fact, i've grown rather fond of our little rendezvous. though it does seem unfair that you get to see all of me while I never see you.”

tom stepped out of the darkness, his brow furrowed in confusion. “you knew?” he questioned, racking his brain for any indication of your knowledge. “how long have you been aware?”

“a while,” you said nonchalantly. “I felt…your presence. watching me. following me. stalking me.”

“why haven’t you said anything?”

“because,” you drawled, pretty doe eyes tracking his movements as he came closer and closer. “it’s thrilling. knowing that you’re out there, tracking my every move like you’re a predator and i’m your prey. it makes me feel special. it makes me feel wanted.”

“but most importantly,” tom paused in his tracks as you pressed your naked body against him, delicate hands traveling under his robe to slide down his chest. “it makes me fucking horny.”

his breath hitched at the fucked up confession, pupils blown out as you palmed his erection. “i’m willing to bet that the feeling is mutual.”

tom groaned, melting under your touch. he felt like he was in a dream that he never wanted to wake from. “you have no fucking idea, doll.”

you grinned as you slid off his robe, letting it pool by his feet while your deft fingers made quick work of the buttons on his shirt. “why don’t you show me, tommy?” he watched with a dazed expression as you waded into the water, the waves lapping around your legs while you smirked. “well? aren’t you coming in?”

tom shed his clothes in mere seconds and followed after you. he remained silent as you threaded water, leading him to a small alcove hidden from the rest of the beach. a small smile tugged at your lips from how eager he was, standing before you with lust filled eyes. you ran your hands down his body, nails raking against his solid chest, his bulging biceps, and his perfectly toned abs.

“we’re all alone now,” you whispered seductively. “the poor little dove finds herself in the jaws of a snake. tell me, tommy, do you plan on swallowing me whole?”

tom growled as he grabbed your chin, his fingers digging into your skin as his mouth crashed against yours. the heat of his kiss was punishing, taking you under as you lost yourself in the feel of him. you moaned when his tongue pushed past the seam of your lips, devouring and consuming you from the inside out.

your stiffened peaks pressed against his tanned chest, sending shivers down your spine as he backed you into the rocky wall of the alcove. tom’s lips never left yours as he lifted you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as his hard cock pressed against your stomach. precum smeared against his abs as he throbbed in your hands, so thick and veiny as you pumped him between kisses.

tom pulled away, his cheeks flushed and his waves matted across his forehead as one errant curl defied the rest of his hair and swooped down over his eyes. he looked so delicious that you just couldn’t help yourself. without warning, you positioned him over your entrance and sank down onto his cock with a moan.

“fuck,” tom growled. “oh fuck, doll, you’re so fucking tight.”

“please, tommy,” you pleaded, nails raking across his back as you grinded against him. “I need you to fuck me.”

the air left your lungs when tom growled against your neck. the two of you watched his cock slide inside of you, pulling it out to the tip just to slam it all back inside again. the way he fucked was so feral, so animalistic, that you were sure you were ruined for any other man. tom didn’t hold back, he didn’t hesitate as he fucked you until your back arched and your thighs trembled.

“yes, god, split me apart with your cock,” you screamed as you dug your nails into his back. “you feel so fucking good.”

“yeah? you like when your stalker fucks you, doll?” tom said with a dark chuckle. “you’re so fucking wet for me, so turned on for all the fucked up things i’ve done. the fucked up things I will do. you’re just a whore for this cock, aren’t you?”

“fuck yes,” you screamed in pleasure. “i’m a whore for you, tommy.”

tom grunted as he came into his hands, his sticky cum covering his fingers as his body slumped against the tree. in the middle of the black lake, you continued swimming laps under the inky black sky, unaware of the filthy fantasy that tom had just gotten himself off to. he cleaned himself off, pulling up his trousers and tucking his shirt back into place while you were none the wiser.

for now, this secret of his would remain safe, but tom knew it wouldn’t last much longer. one day, the desire would grow too strong for him to fight. one day, he would succumb to all his dark urges and impulses.

one day, tom would come for you.