#I know nothing about them but they sound nice

[skipper1331]

Crash // Alessia Russo

Request: hey, could you please write some angst for alessia if possible.

a/n: hope u like it :))

warnings: car crash

"Where are you taking me?" Alessia grumbled with her arms crossed as she sat in the passengers seat, not amused by the fact that she sat in the passenger seat.

"You know, I don‘t like it when you drive" she added, her frown only deepening.

Playfully offended, you gasped, "are you saying I’m not a good driver?"

She turned to you, answering dead serious, "yes!" she crumbled under the glare she got in return, your raised eyebrow never a good sign "no" she mumbled, her fingers slowly interviewing with yours. "It‘s my job to drive you around, not the other way around" the striker continued to ramble about the situation while you just smiled to yourself.

Usually, Alessia was always sat behind the steering wheel, driving you to your destinations. And though, you were able to drive yourself (license in your wallet since years) the blonde insisted on driving you every time. She even drove you to appointments that didn't involve her, such as coffee dates with your friends or else. She loved driving and especially driving you around or you just seated in the passenger seat.

"But I’ve a surprise for you, so relax" you smiled, "you‘re even allowed to be dj" you grinned, the blonde always complaining that you wouldn’t even play one song of her choice.

"You‘ve got the passenger princess privileges, use them, love"

Alessia grumbled something before she connected her phone, her playlist starting to play. "You‘re lucky you‘re cute"

You had something really nice planned which she would definitely enjoy. Lately, everything has been stressful with your studies and all the exams that were coming up. And Lessi had shown nothing but love and support during this time, which is why you wanted to do something special as a thank you.

Everything was perfect so far, the blonde slowly accepting the fact that you sat behind the steering wheel instead of her, the conversation flowing easily as always until suddenly a car appeared out of nowhere, hitting your side with a force.

That’s the last thing you remember.

-

"Is she okay?" Alessia asked the medic with a raspy shaky voice, panic radiating of her body. She didn‘t know where you were. The ambulance left immediately with you, everything happening so fast. One second, she was telling you about the derby and in the other second, the car left the road and hit a tree.

"Ma‘am, you need to sit." The medic ordered as Alessia attempted to get up, hissing in pain. Her arm and shoulder hurt awfully, her face slightly bloody as it trickled down her forehead and nose.

"No! I need to know! She wasn‘t speaking, her eyes were closed! I- i don’t know"

The medics tried to calm her down the best they could, but it didn‘t help much.

After a short examination of her, the second ambulance left for the hospital.

-

In the hospital, Alessia went through several checks. Her arm was broken but thankfully it was a straight and simple fraction and nothing splintered. Her cuts were taken care of, only the large one on her forehead needing stitches. "You were very lucky" the doctor explained, also explaining the rest of her treatment and more. But Alessia couldn’t listen, all she could think about was you.

Are you alright? Are you alive? Where are you? What was happening?

"What about my wife? Is she alright? Please tell me she‘s alright" Alessia begged, tears streaming down her face.

-

Alessia sat next to your bed, holding your hand, praying that you would open your eyes. Just anything.

She sat there for hours, not leaving your side at all. Each time a nurse came in, the blonde wanted to know everything. What were they doing? What meant this sound or that? Are you getting better? Anything. The thought of you not waking up was terrifying her.

"Lessi, i think you should go for a walk. Grab a coffee and some fresh air" her mother ordered, sensing that her daughter was thinking too much, holding your hand tightly.

"I can’t" she replied, her eyes not leaving your face.

"Less, she‘s right. As soon as something happens, we‘ll tell you immediately. I promise" your mother joined the conversation now.

"Ok-ay" in trance she stood up, walking backwards to the door, her eyes not leaving yours until she was out of the room.

When Alessia came back, nothing had happened (she hadn‘t even been gone for 5 minutes) yet she was disappointed. This was her worst nightmare.

She wasn’t able to protect you.

You looked so vulnerable in the hospital bed, so fragile. It broke her heart.

In the evening, her mum and your mum said their good bye to the girl, promising to come back in the morning, Alessia still refusing to leave your side and to sleep at home. She couldn’t.

You needed her.

-

You woke up in a bright room, groaning in pain. Looking around, you saw Carol sitting on a chair, reading a magazine. "Hey, you’re up" the magazine was long forgotten as she was at your side, offering you some water.

"Less" you rasped. You fiddled with the duvet, memories flashing in front of your eyes.

Car.

Tree.

Blood.

Less.

"Stay" her mother ordered, already calling the nurse.

"Where‘s Lessi?" you cried in pain, scared and terrified.

"Love!" Alessia‘s eyes widened as she re-entered your room, only gone for a minute to use the bathroom. "You‘re awake" she was at your side in an instant, holding your hand and rapidly kissing it. The other hand trying her best to cradle your head with the cast, "how are you feeling?"

"I‘m so sorry" you cried, "your car" you sobbed.

"I don’t care about the car right now" she stated firmly, wiping away the tears.

"You love your Mercedes"

"I don’t care about that stupid car. You‘re awake!" her voice slightly raised by all the emotions she was feeling.

In that moment a nurse came in, checking all things before the doctor joined, explaining everything and the following steps.

Carol left after the medical team had gone out of the room, sensing that both of you needed a minute alone, calling your mother to let her know what the doctor said.

"I‘ll pay you back, i promise" you refused to look at her, ashamed that the one time you were driving of course something had to happen.

"Look at me, please" she pleaded, her voice breaking slightly. She hadn’t seen your open eyes in days and now you refused to look at her. She couldn’t handle it. The lack of you in the last few days had been awful for her and not knowing if you would ever wake up, had been more than terrifying. It was a feeling she wouldn’t want anybody to feel. This fear, the feeling of not being able to breathe, as if her chest was constricting with every movement. And then the thoughts. Mentally she couldn't find rest because she hoped, prayed and mourned. There were too many emotions at once and the strongest of them was the most unpredictable - love. What would you do out of love?

When you looked at her, you realized how scared she must have been the last few days.

"Please don‘t cry" you whispered as you saw the tears, the exhaustion on her face and her injuries, "i thought-" she hiccuped, all feelings bubbling to the surface.

"I love you, i don‘t care about the Mercedes, okay? All i care about is you and that you‘re alive. That‘s all that ever matters to me" her hands cupped your cheeks, crying even more.

"Come here" groaning in pain, you scooted to the side, "stop moving. what are you doing!" Lessi asked with wide eyes, panic in her expression.

"Come here, please" with the pout on your face, she just couldn’t say no. She needed this just as much as you did. You leaned against her, head resting on her shoulder as your hand held her shirt, seeking comfort in her touch.

"I‘m sorry for driving, i just wanted to do something special" you whispered, "i never wanted to get you hurt" you mumbled, scared, exhausted and still in pain after everything.

"No more of that. We can worry about everything later, right now i just need you close" she replied, her tightening her grip around you (not even to hurt you), slowly calming down.

You were alive.

You were in her arms.

You were alive.

She couldn’t care less about her car or about your surprise or literally anything else in this world.

All that mattered was you.

"I love you so so much."

Everything was going to be okay.

It was you and her against the world.

And she would support you on every step of the way of your recovery because that‘s what wives do. In sickness and in health just like she had promised.

Like the doctor said, "it‘s going to take its time but you‘ll fully recover" and that’s what Alessia held onto. Because sometimes the only thing that helps is hope. Alessia’s hopes and believes were stronger than her fears. Hope was stronger than any fear, especially when it came to the life of a loved one. Someone that was you. Someone who’s loved so deeply by Alessia and everyone around you. Your wife never gave up, never lost her hope and faith in you and your strength. Because if she had done so, she might had lost herself at the same time.

Love was unconditional and unpredictable - that‘s what made it special.

And Alessia truly did love you, more than anything in this world (and definitely more than her Mercedes)

[gothicfied]

Cho Hyun-ju / Player 120 Headcanons

Pairing: Cho Hyun-ju / Player 120 x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of death/dying, killing, guns/gunshots (typical squid game stuff), other than that it's just fluff, not proof read (english isn't my first language)

જ⁀➴ Watching Hyun-ju during the six-legged pentathlon, you couldn't help but be amazed. She was a leader, a fighter, someone who didn't and wouldn't give up, that much was sure. It was amazing to see her lead her group to victory, to safety, being the one to push them and encourage them. Everyone cheered, obviously including you, and it truly was an amazing feeling to see them all get away with their lives. You weren't so sure if you'd make it, too.

જ⁀➴ Thankfully, you did. Your group barely scraped by and you just decided that you needed to be on Hyun-ju's team. Hesitantly, you approached Geum-ja, who immediately noticed your small figure and agreed in a heart beat to let you join their little group.

"You were great back there, you know?" You told Hyun-ju with a shy smile while she was sitting on the stairs, originally just observing Yong-sik getting scolded by his mother again. "Hm? Ah.. that was nothing." she replied back, shaking her head when smiling up at you. "I think everyone in here should be like you," you chuckled, "like, actually. We'd all benefit from it."

જ⁀➴ Hyun-ju's heart melted at all the nice words you would say to her, complimenting her braveness and strength. It made her feel more validated in her actions, which was the motivation she really needed in a place like this. Young-mi was equally excited to have you in their group now, having animated conversations with you about the things you had in common — And if she approved of you, Hyun-ju would, too.

જ⁀➴ Whenever you were scared, were having doubts about yourself or just needed someone to talk, Hyun-ju was there. It was almost like she felt it when you felt that way and she'd always listen to you and comfort you. Her hugs were warm and firm, perfectly calming you down after a particularly bad nightmare. In return, you also encouraged her to talk to you if she ever felt the need to, but everytime you suggested that she'd laugh it off. To Hyun-ju, it was enough to know that she brought you comfort, she didn't need anything in return. She did think it was adorable for you to say that.

જ⁀➴ To distract you from all the stress sometimes, she'd ask you about your plans for the future, about your hobbies and jusy about the things that made you, you. Hyun-ju was genuinely interested in getting to know you and was growing very fond of you over a short period of time.

જ⁀➴ After suffering through the third game together, and also a painful loss (rip Young-mi, my queen), everyone was going through it. Instead of everyone keeping it peaceful, they just decided to slaughter each other after lights out. Ever since losing Young-mi, Hyun-ju was very adamant on keeping you by her side at all times. She wouldn't make that mistake again and leave someone she cared about out of her sight.

The lights flicker like crazy above you, screams and the disgusting sound of people getting killed right next to you were the only things you could focus on right now. You were panicking, you were scared, you felt like you were going to cry and throw up. Hyun-ju had grabbed you by your hand and dragged you to the last corner of the dorm area, hiding you between some mattresses other players had set up. She was firmly holding you by your shoulders and telling you something you couldn't make up. Probably that everything will be okay or something. "Hey! Hey, please listen to me," Hyun-ju leaned in close, hugging you against her, "it's all going to be fine. We'll be okay."

જ⁀➴ In fact, you were. Obviously you were. Hyun-ju wouldn't say something she didn't mean — she wouldn't lie to you. She knew that winning someones trust was hard and the fact that you put so much of it into her filled her with pride.

જ⁀➴ Gi-hun had his mind set on a revolution. Anybody who could handle a firearm was supposed to step forward and take one of of the ones they took off the dead guards. You swallowed, locking eyes with Hyun-ju. She'd step forward, they needed her. You gave her a quick nod and a faint smile and she returned it, quickly stepping forward to help the others.

Geum-ja put a hand on your shoulder, claiming that she'll be fine and that she's far too tough to die out there. "They'll be back to get us out of here, don't worry about it." she said, tugging you by your sleeve, beckoning you to come with her.

When Dae-ho stormed in after a while again, hastily collecting the magazines out of the guards pockets, you were relieved, even if he seemed extremely beside himself. He had some sort of panic attack, so you sat him down on one of the beds, trying to reason with him, until Hyun-ju stormed in, making your facs light up. Oh my god, she's alive. She basically ran to Dae-ho, urging for the ammunition and kept asking him what happened.. so, this wasn't going according to plan at all. You assumption was confirmed by all the masked guards that flooded into the dorm area, holding the remaining players at gunpoint.

"Hyun-ju..?" your voice was shaky. Her eyes fell down on you, taking your hand into hers. "It's all going to be fine."

[polarisjisung]

ꨄ YOU ARE MY ROCKSTAR

LATE NIGHTS IN THE STUDIO W/ MARK

wc: 0.7k warnings: none yet! notes: been on a mark listening streak, still think golden hour is one of my favourites | LIBRARY

The clock on the wall reads well past midnight, but really it doesn’t feel that late.

The warm hum of the recording studio surrounds you, the soft glow of the lights casting a mellow ambiance in the room. It feels cosy. All moments with Mark did, but something tonight feels especially comfortable.

Mark sits behind the mixing console, headphones perched on his head as he carefully adjusts sound levels. You don't really know what all the switches and dials in front of him mean, but you do know that they mean a lot to Mark, and that's enough for you.

He’s in his element. It's obvious from the way he narrows his eyes down in front of him. But there’s something about the way he moves that tells you he’s more focused on making the track perfect than anything else in the world right now.

You’re sprawled out on the couch across from him, with a spiderman blanket he'd placed over your lap earlier, as you watch him.

His usual cheerful, easygoing nature has shifted into a quiet, intense concentration, the mark of someone who cares deeply about their work.

It was one of the things you loved most about Mark, how much he cared, not just about his work, but about you, about everything.

Mark's loves in life were few, but his dedication to them was immense. He loved rarely, but entirely.

His brows furrow slightly as he listens to the beat, adjusting a few knobs here and there, nodding to himself in approval.

You smile to yourself, almost feeling a little self-conscious about how much you’ve been admiring him lately. You can't help it, though.

The way his hair falls over his forehead, the way his fingers move so effortlessly over the dials, the way his voice takes on a slightly deeper, more serious tone when he's in "work mode." It’s moments like these that make you fall for him all over again.

“Hey, you okay?” Mark’s voice pulls you out of your thoughts, the soft crackle of his mic cutting through the air. You look up, meeting his warm gaze. His hair is an absolute mess, falling over his eyes and sticking out in all sorts of different directions— somehow Mark’s never looked better.

“Yeah, just… watching you. You’re really focused, huh?”

He grins, pushing his headphones off one ear. “Yeah, I get like this sometimes when I’m working on something that matters. You know, the kind of thing where I want everything to sound just right. But you’ve been quiet. What’s on your mind?”

You chuckle, lifting a hand to rub the back of your neck, just a touch embarrassed. “Nothing, just… you. I love watching you work. You’re amazing, Mark.”

His eyes soften, a faint blush creeping up his neck. He reaches over and taps a button on the console, stopping the track. “Stop making me all shy. You know I get embarrassed when you say things like that.” He leans back in his chair, crossing his arms as he looks at you with a playful smirk. “But I’m glad you think that. It’s nice to have you here with me.”

In your books, that was a win, considering the number of times you'd been reminded just how much Mark hated to be disturbed during his solo studio sessions. But like most things, the rules were different for you.

You sit up, suddenly feeling a little braver, and slide off the couch, walking over to him. “Can I sit with you while you work? I promise I won’t distract you too much.”

Mark presses a soft kiss to your hand, gentle, reassuring.

“Of course,” he says, already pulling the chair next to his, his fingers drumming lightly on the armrest. “You’re my favorite distraction.”

taglist: @yizhrt @suzayaaa @nanawrlds @sinisxtea @dearlyminhyung @flaminghotyourmom @jisworlds @jenobubbles @nctdreamchaser @lotties-readings @mystverse @chenlezip

[lupinqs]

CHAPTER SIX ━━ A Little Too Much

❀ ━ pairing: paige bueckers x oc (jo jacobson)

❀ ━ word count: 6.2K

❀ ━ warnings: like maybe an allusion to sex???

❀ ━ links: my masterlist, nobody gets me masterlist

❀ ━ author’s note: paige bro lock in

PAIGE SINKS deeper into the couch, the familiarity of the apartment wrapping around her like a hug. It’s nice being back, the familiar scent of vanilla (Jo’s candles) filling the space. The TV is tuned to some random college football game—an SEC game that Paige really couldn’t care less about.

Aubrey’s sitting at the other end of the couch, legs stretched out and crossed at the ankle, her arm resting on the back cushion. A bag of chips is balanced precariously on her knee as she scrolls through her phone, glancing up at the screen every now and then to half heartedly comment on a play.

“Nah, ain’t no way Tennessee gets this one,” Aubrey says, tossing a chip into her mouth. “Georgia, no debate.”

Paige snorts, squinting at the game for a moment. “Ion know, the Vols are up.”

“They won’t be,” Aubrey insists, waving the bag of chips for emphasis.

Paige hadn’t realized how much she missed all of this until now. She’s spent the last month in LA, focusing on her rehab at a state-of-the-art facility her team insisted on. The work has been grueling—hours of physical therapy every day, pushing her body to its limits, trying to rebuild what she’s lost.

But being away from her teammates has been harder.

It’s the first week of October now and she hadn’t seen any of them since early September, right before she flew out. Sure, there were texts and FaceTimes—especially with Jo, who’s practically made it her mission to keep Paige from feeling too disconnected. But it isn’t the same as this: sitting on the couch, arguing over nothing, being in one of her best friend’s presence.

“You said Jo was working out with Yanna and Caroline, right?” Paige asks, glancing over at Aubrey. She’d be lying if she said she isn’t anxiously waiting for Jo to get her ass home.

“Yeah, they been at it all day. Jo’s on this whole new grind—something about gettin’ faster footwork or whatever. I dunno, think she just wants to be really prepared for the season, cause—” Aubrey nods to Paige’s knee and Paige nods—Jo is certainly gonna have a huge role for the team this season.

After a moment, though, Aubrey sends her a look, asking, “Why, though? You impatient?”

Paige just rolls her eyes, saying, “It’s just been a minute.”

Aubrey hums, though she doesn’t sound entirely too convinced.

Paige doesn’t much care. She cares more about the fact that she has to sit through nearly the entirety of this football game before she hears the door click open, her head snapping up instinctively. She can hear Jo before she sees her—her sneakers squeaking against the floor, her laugh that’s as bright and familiar as sunlight as she mutters something to—presumably—Ayanna or Caroline, who must still be in the hallway. For a second, everything else washes away—the announcers on the TV, Aubrey scrolling lazily on her phone. Paige’s focus narrows completely, landing squarely on the figure stepping into the apartment.

When Jo finally comes into view, it’s like Paige can breathe again. Except, maybe not, because Jo looks exactly the same and yet somehow better then Paige remembers. Her ponytail is a little messy, strands clinging to her forehead, and her tank top is soaked through with sweat, outlining the lean strength of her frame. Her cheeks are flushed pink and her eyes are sparkling with that post-workout adrenaline.

Paige feels her stomach plummet, a sudden, unwelcome realization inching into her mind. She thinks Jo looks beautiful like this.

“Oh my God, you’re here!” Jo’s voice breaks through Paige’s thoughts, light and high-pitched with excitement. Her smile is wide, open, and utterly disarming, like she’s been waiting for this moment for weeks. She drops her gym bag onto the floor without a second thought and breaks into a jog toward Paige, her arms already outstretched.

Paige stands automatically, her body moving before her brain catches up. And then Jo is there, colliding into her with so much force that Paige actually stumbles back half a step. Jo’s arms wrap around her shoulders, strong and unhesitating, and before Paige even knows what’s happening, she’s being pulling into the kind of hug that makes her feel like melting.

Jo smells like strawberry shampoo and a hint of sweat, a mix that should probably be unappealing but isn’t. Paige’s face ends up pressed against the side of Jo’s neck, and, for a moment, she lets herself completely sink into the embrace. Jo is warm and solid and so full of life, and Paige feels herself relax in a way she didn’t even realize she needed.

But there’s something else, too: a tangle of emotions she can’t—or maybe just doesn’t want—to name. Paige’s hands settle on Jo’s waist, and she pulls her closer, tighter, without even thinking. Her heartbeat picks up, thudding erratically in her chest. She tells herself it’s just the adrenaline of being nearly barreled into.

But then Jo’s laugh bubbles out, muffled against Paige’s shoulder, and Paige feels a little breathless.

“I missed you so much!” Jo squeals, her arms tightening around Paige like she’s never letting go.

Paige smiles, closing her eyes for just a second as her nose nudges Jo’s ponytail. “I missed you too,” she murmurs, and there’s a softness in her voice that surprises even her.

The warmth of Jo’s hug, the way her fingers curl slightly against Paige’s back, makes something twist low in Paige’s stomach. It’s almost too much, but at the same time, not enough. Paige doesn’t want to let go, doesn’t want to think about why this feels different than hugging Aubrey or Azzi earlier.

From behind them, Paige hears Aubrey mutter, “Yeah, maybe a little too much.”

Paige’s eyes snap open, heat rushing to her face. She freezes, her arms going stiff for just a second, but Jo doesn’t seem to notice. Paige’s heart pounds as she wills herself to stay calm, to keep her expression neutral as she pulls back, not too abruptly but enough to put some space between them.

Jo beams, her hands lingering on Paige’s shoulders as she grins up at her. Paige feels like she might die under the weight of it.

“Shit,” Jo says suddenly with realization, stepping back and gesturing to herself. “I’m disgusting right now. I should’ve warned you before jumping on you like that.”

“You’re fine,” Paige says quickly, and then, because she feels like she should say something normal, she adds, “I mean, it’s not like I haven’t seen you sweaty before.”

Jo laughs, the sound bubbling up effortlessly. “Still. Let me shower, and then we’re hanging out. No excuses. I missed you!”

Paige can’t help but smile back, even as her thoughts churn. Jo is grinning at her like she’s the only thing in the world that matters, and Paige feels something warm and unsteady settle in her chest. She watches as Jo grabs her bag and heads toward the bathroom.

Once she’s out of view, Paige sits back down on the couch with a huff. She hates that her heart is still beating too fast.

Next to her, Aubrey hasn’t moved, one arm draped lazily over the back of the couch as she watches Paige with a look that makes the blonde shift a little. The football game continues on, the last few minutes of the fourth quarter blaring, but Aubrey doesn’t seem the least bit interested in it anymore.

Paige finally breaks the silence, blurting out as she turns to Aubrey, “What did you mean by that?”

Aubrey raises an eyebrow. “By what?”

Paige frowns. “That comment you made. About me missin’ her too much.”

Aubrey doesn’t answer right away. Instead, she leans forward, grabbing the remote and lowering the volume on the TV. When she settles back into her seat, she gives Paige a look—a knowing look that immediately puts Paige on edge.

“She has a boyfriend, bro,” Aubrey says simply, as if that explains everything.

“I know that,” Paige snaps, the words leaving her mouth too quickly. She feels a flush creeping up her neck and shifts in her position, trying to look casual, unbothered. “Obviously I know that.”

Aubrey’s gaze doesn’t waver. “Do you?”

“Yes,” Paige says, her voice sharper now. She crosses her arms over her chest, defensive without meaning to be. “’Course I do. What’s your point?”

Aubrey tilts her head, the corner of her mouth twitching like she’s holding back a smirk. “My point is,” she says slowly, “you look at her like she’s the sun or sum. And don’t act like you don’t, ���cause I just saw it.”

Paige scoffs, but it’s weak, almost half-hearted. “That’s fuckin’ ridiculous,” she says, though her tone wavers. “She’s, like, my best friend. I’m just—” She falters, trying to find the right words “I’m just happy to see her. It’s been a month, bro. I’d be like that with anyone.”

“Really?” Aubrey asks, raising her eyebrows. “Uh, you didn’t act like that when I picked you up from the airport. Or when Az came by earlier.”

“That’s different,” Paige says defensively. “You and Azzi—she’s—” She stumbles over the words, annoyed that she can’t articulate why it is different without making it sound worse.

Aubrey doesn’t look convinced. In fact, she looks entirely unimpressed. “Uh-huh,” she says, drawing the syllables out. “P, I warned you about this when you two first moved in together.”

Paige remembers. She remembers when they were moving her bed during the summer and Aubrey had told her seriously, “You cannot fuck Jo Jacobson.”

At the time, Paige had laughed it off. The idea seemed absurd then. Sure, Jo was beautiful, but she was also a freshman and just getting her feet wet here, and Paige would never do that. She would never do that. She still would never do that. But then, Paige hadn’t ever thought of her in that way.

Now—

“I don’t like her like that,” Paige says, her voice firmer than she feels. “I don’t.”

“Uh-huh,” Aubrey says again, in the same tone as before. “Look, I’m not saying you’re doing it on purpose. But, bro, if you do have feelings for her—and I’m not saying you do—don’t let ’em mess with your head. Or the team.”

Paige bristles at that. “I don’t have feelings for her,” she insists. “And even if I did—which I don’t—it wouldn’t affect the team. I’m not that stupid.”

Aubrey shrugs, unfazed. “I’m just saying. Jo’s solid with Asher. Like, really solid. You don’t wanna go down that road.”

Paige feels her chest tighten, and she doesn’t know if it’s because she hates how Aubrey is talking to her or because some small, traitorous part of her knows Aubrey might be right.

“I’m not goin’ down any road,” Paige says, forcing her voice to stay even. “You’re reading too much into this. I’m just happy to see my best friend again. That’s it.”

Aubrey doesn’t press further, but her silence is heavy, loaded with unspoken skepticism. Paige tries to focus on the last few minutes of the football game, but the TV screen practically blurs in her vision as her thoughts spiral.

She tells herself Aubrey’s wrong. That her excitement to see Jo is completely normal. That the way her heart has leapt when Jo walked in the door was nothing more than relief after a long time apart.

But deep down, she can’t shake the way her stomach had flipped when Jo smiled at her. Or the way her chest felt too tight when Jo hugged her, like her ribs were trying to contain something that didn’t want to be contained.

Paige doesn’t know what to call it. She doesn’t want to know.

JO’S EYES remain glued to the screen, but she doesn’t even notice what’s happening in the episode anymore. She missed this—missed the nights spent lying next to Paige, the “sleepovers” which are really just code for one of them being too lazy to walk back into their own rooms and crawl into their own beds.

Jo’s massaging Paige’s knee, the rhythm comforting and almost mechanical now. It’s just what they do; she’s done it a thousand times over since her surgery, though it’s been a month since she’s done it now. She knows how much it helps Paige, and it’s not like it’s anything weird—just a friend doing something nice for another friend, a friend that’s gone through this same thing before and knows what can help.

She’s not thinking about the way Paige’s leg feels under her palm, how soft the skin is, how warm. She’s not. She’s not thinking about how close they are, how the smooth skin of Paige’s thigh rests under her cheek, or how the way Paige moves so naturally beside her makes her chest feel tight in a way that doesn’t make sense.

Paige lets out a soft sigh, and Jo doesn’t quite know why it sends a little flutter through her. She shakes it off quickly, adjusting her position to be more comfortable, still massaging her knee.

They’re almost at the end of first season of The Vampire Diaries now, and Jo’s surprised that Paige has stuck with it. She thought, with all the complaining, that Paige would have tapped out after a few episodes, but here they are, still going strong. Jo knows her well enough that she can tell that Paige has actually started to get into it. Maybe not as much as Jo, but enough to make comments and roll her eyes at the sometimes ridiculous drama.

“You can’t actually be Team Damon, P,” Jo says, shaking her head against Paige’s thigh, letting her fingers glide over the tender muscle beneath Paige’s knee. “Like, come on, girl. Stefan is clearly the better choice.”

Paige shifts slightly, and Jo glances up to see the blonde smirking down at her. Her cheeks are a little flushed and Jo can understand why—it’s hot in here. Maybe they should turn the heat down. “Ion know, JoJo. Damon’s a lot more interesting.”

Jo huffs, “Yeah, well, interesting isn’t always the best option. You need someone who’s steady, who’s good for you.”

“Who’s ‘boring,’ you mean?” Paige’s voice is light, a teasing edge to it.

Jo shakes her head again, laughing a little. As she does so, her lips lightly graze the top of Paige’s thigh. She doesn’t think anything of it. But then she feels Paige’s leg tense up. Jo stills her hand on her knee, thinking she might’ve done something wrong. But then, maybe a second later, Paige is relaxed again, and she doesn’t say anything, so Jo cautiously resumes the massage.

“Yeah, boring’s fine. It’s good. It’s better than all the shit Damon brings,” Jo says.

She can feel the subtle shift in Paige’s posture—she’s looking at Jo, eyes soft, gaze steady—and Jo quickly glances back at the TV, avoiding it. She doesn’t know why. Because it’s because if she lets herself look at Paige for too long, she’ll start thinking about things she’s not supposed to.

“Whatever,” Paige says after a pause. “I still think Damon’s cooler.”

Jo just snorts as she finishes working on the blonde’s knee, feeling the tension slowly melt away as her fingers work the muscles. A final press of her thumb into the joint elicits a soft sigh from Paige, and Jo grins slightly, the satisfaction of helping her best friend making it worth it.

Her fingers ache slightly from the pressure, but it’s nothing really. She looks at Paige briefly before flopping down beside her, her legs splaying out on the bed as she turns onto her stomach. The weight of the day and the long workout is starting to press in on her, and the soft, quiet room feels soothing. “My turn,” she says with a little grin, throwing a look over at Paige as she gestures to her back. It’s a deal they became accustomed to before Paige went off to LA—Jo massages Paige’s knee, and Paige takes care of the horrendous knots in Jo’s back. Simple.

Paige stares at her for a moment, a faint smile tugging at the corner of her mouth, before moving over to straddle Jo’s hips and starting to knead into her back. Jo tries to relax, exhaling deeply as Paige’s hands work their way over her tense muscles. It’s familiar and comfortable, and God, is Jo glad Paige is back in Storrs.

Paige’s fingers press into a particularly stubborn knot, right between Jo’s shoulder blades, and Jo winces, just a little. It’s the one knot that never seems to go away, no matter how much she tries to stretch or work it out. It’s been there for years, a stubborn thing.

“Still there?” Paige’s voice is soft, but Jo can hear the hint of concern.

The younger girl nods into the pillows. “Mmm, yeah, it never goes away.”

Paige hums in acknowledgement, and Jo hears her shift slightly. For a moment, she wonders if Paige is just going to stay where she is and work the knot from the outside, but then, to her surprise, she feels Paige’s hands move to the bottom of her t-shirt, sliding under the fabric carefully.

“Lemme get in there,” Paige murmurs lowly.

The words and the cool air against her skin sends a shiver down Jo’s spine, but she doesn’t pull away. Paige’s touch is so familiar, so comforting, that even the shift in how they’ve positioned doesn’t feel strange—at least, it shouldn’t. She can feel Paige’s fingers move under the fabric, creeping up her spine near her shoulder blade, right where she can press deeper into the knot. The pressure is sudden but not unwelcome. It’s exactly what Jo needs.

“Mmm, that’s better,” Paige says softly, her voice closer now, almost against Jo’s back, as she works the knot precisely. Her fingertips press firmly into the spot, working the muscle, easing the tendon.

The warmth from Paige’s fingers against her skin sends a wave of heat through Jo’s body, and she lets out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. The knot is finally loosening, and for a brief moment, she’s too focused on the sensation to even process anything else. Paige’s hands move with ease, like she’s done this a thousand times. And she has. Or, well, at least a few.

“You good?” Paige asks, voice soft but steady, like she’s concerned, and Jo feels a strange pull in her chest.

Jo hums in response, though it comes out softer than she intended. “Yeah, that feels perfect.”

For a moment, there’s silence between them, and all Jo can focus on is the steady rhythm of Paige’s hands as they move over her back, the weight of her stomach settling into Jo’s muscles. The room is even warmer now—they really should turn down the heat. Even if it’s Connecticut, it’s only October. That, or maybe it’s just the proximity, the closeness of Paige’s body to here. Jo doesn’t know what it is, but her heart’s not beating the way it usually does.

Paige’s hands slide back up, pressing into the tender spots along Jo’s shoulder blades, and Jo bites her lip, trying to ignore how good it feels.

And then, without thinking, Jo shifts slightly, a small motion that presses her chest just a little closer to the bed. With the movement, her body aligns a bit more with Paige’s, and suddenly the space between them feels too small, too close. She can feel Paige’s breath against her back, steady and warm, and Jo’s pulse quickens despite herself.

“God,” Jo mutters. “You’re good at this.”

Paige’s fingers stop their movements for a moment, as if processing the words. “It’s nothing,” she says, but there’s something different in her voice. Maybe it’s just how close they are, or maybe it’s the weight of the silence hanging between them, but Jo’s pretty sure she hears a shift in the way Paige speaks. A slight tension in her voice that Jo can’t explain.

Eventually, Paige finishes working the knot, her hands pulling away slowly. Jo almost feels a pang of disappointment, but she can’t place why. She’s just relaxing, just letting herself unwind. It’s nothing.

Paige lies back down next to her, the space between them still feeling a little smaller than it should be. Jo turns her head to meet Paige’s gaze, their faces just inches apart.

“Better?” Paige asks, her voice soft and almost too quiet. Her fingers trail lightly down Jo’s spine, slipping out from under her shirt with a gentle touch that sends a small shiver through Jo.

Jo smiles a little, nodding. “Yeah,” she murmurs. “Thank you.”

Paige nods, her lips lifting at the corners a little before Jo turns her gaze back to the TV. She tucks her hands under her cheek as she lays on her side, eyes lazily watching the screen. Damon and Elena are fighting over something—per usual.

She doesn’t even notice at first when Paige shifts, her leg brushing against Jo’s under the covers. And then she slides a little closer, her shoulder brushing against Jo’s arm. Her face is even closer now, and Jo’s aware of that. She can feel her breath against her skin. It catches her a little off guard, but it’s not weird. It’s just how they always seem to end up—close.

“I missed you, Joey.” Paige’s voice, so soft, echoes through the room.

Jo glances up, meeting her gaze. It makes her smile. “I missed you too.”

And she did—she got so used to being so close to her that it was terrible when she was gone for so long. So bad it felt like Jo was going through withdrawal or something. And it only makes it worse that she’s flying back out in a couple days and Jo is going to have the apartment to herself again.

Paige’s face is still close, her eyes searching Jo’s for something. They’re so blue, even in the dim lighting of the room, and they feel like an ocean Jo could easily drown in.

She doesn’t know why she does it, but she presses herself closer still, their chests touching now, Jo’s nose brushing against Paige’s neck. Their legs tangle more under the sheets, and Jo feels Paige wrap her arm around her waist gently, letting it rest there. Jo doesn’t mind.

It’s just them. It’s just how they are.

PAIGE WAKES slowly, the soft morning light streaming through the slats of the blinds casting stripes across the bed. Her body feels heavy, warm, and there’s a comforting weight against her arm. Blinking her eyes open, she shifts her head on the pillow and glances down. Jo is still asleep beside her, her face soft in the pale light, her features slack with peace.

Jo looks… pretty, Paige thinks, her thoughts still hazy with sleep. Her hair is tousled, sticking up slightly at the crown from no doubt a restless turn in the night, but it only makes her look softer, less put together in a way that feels intimate. Paige is half aware of the fact that her own arm is tucked under Jo’s, her hand resting near Jo’s waist. Their legs are tangled together, too, her calf brushing Jo’s under the covers.

Paige doesn’t move immediately. She doesn’t want to. It’s warm like this, comfortable, and even though the logical part of her brain tells her to pull away, to avoid making it weird, she stays where she is.

Her gaze lingers on Jo’s face, on the slight curve of her lips, the freckles dusted across her nose that are barely visible. There’s something unguarded about Jo in the morning, something vulnerable and even sweeter than she is when she’s awake.

Last night drifts back to Paige’s mind. The massages, the feel of Jo’s hands on her knee, the feel of Jo’s back under her hands. The way Jo told her she missed her, too. Paige had meant it when she told her—she’d missed Jo more then she thought she would during her time in LA. But it’s not just that. There had been something else in the air last night.

Maybe it’s just the shift of being apart for a month, she tells herself. That’s all. It’s just the way things feel different when you come back to someone after being away. Things will settle back into place eventually. They always do.

Jo stirs slightly in her sleep, her brow twitching, and Paige instinctively stills, not wanting to wake her. The younger girl murmurs something unintelligible and shifts closer, her head tilting toward Paige’s shoulder, and Paige’s breath catches for half a second.

The buzz of a phone breaks the quiet, cutting through the gentle hum of the morning. Paige blinks, her thoughts scattering, and she glances toward the nightstand. The phone buzzes again. She assumes its hers—she gets texts at odd hours from basically everyone. Without thinking, she reaches out, fumbling for the phone blindly without lifting her head.

Her fingers close around the cool device, and she squints at the screen as she opens it, not wearing her glasses yet. By the lockscreen, she immediately can tell that this is not her phone, though—it’s Jo’s. She’s about to close it and put it back when the name at the top of the screen makes her freeze. Ash.

Her stomach twists. She knows that name and she knows it well. Asher. Jo’s boyfriend.

Maybe she doesn’t mean to look, maybe she does. Either way, the messages are right there, impossible to ignore.

Ash 💓

Hi baby I know it’s early

Just wanted to say I miss you

and love you

And I can’t wait to see the media day flicks you better send me them all

Paige stares at the screen for a long moment, her chest tightening in a way she doesn’t—but also might—understand. She knows she should stop looking, that this is a complete violation of Jo’s privacy, but her eyes tracy the words again. Baby. I miss you. I love you. They feel like a slap.

She exhales sharply, locking the phone and setting it back on the nightstand. Her case flicks back to Jo, still fast asleep. Her face is serene and peaceful and Paige feels an overwhelming rush of emotions. It’s not jealousy. It’s not. She’s not jealous. She has no right to be jealous of two high school sweethearts that literally grew up next door together that are probably soulmates and are someday going to get married and have babies.

She’s not jealous of that.

But, nonetheless, the knot in her stomach doesn’t go away.

She unentangles herself carefully, shifting her leg and arm away from Jo’s, mindful not to wake her. Jo murmurs something again, soft and sleepy, and Paige pauses for a second before slipping off the bed entirely. She needs space. Air.

She pads to the bathroom, closing the door behind her and leaning against it for a moment. Her hands grip the edge of the sink, and she stares at her reflection in the mirror. Her hair is a mess, her face slightly puffy from sleep.

She shakes her head, turning on the faucet to splash cold water on her face. It doesn’t help much.

Paige forces herself to focus, to push away the strange feelings clawing at her. Jo is her roommate, her freshie, and, yeah, basically her best friend now. And that’s all this is. That’s all it will ever be. She needs to stop overthinking. She needs to get ready for the day.

But even as she brushes her teeth and begins to brush through her hair, her thoughts keep circling back to those texts. To Asher. To Jo. And to the way Jo’s body had felt so warm and close and right against hers just minutes ago.

PAIGE STANDS in front of the mirror in the locker room, adjusting her uniform and smoothing her jersey. The bold, navy #5 stitched on the front catches her eye, and for a moment, she lingers. It feels almost strange, wearing the jersey she won’t be able to play in this season.

Not that she hasn’t come to terms with it. Paige is good at keeping herself together now, even if the pang of frustration hasn’t entirely disappeared—and won’t, she knows, until she gets to play again. But she’s learned to deal with it, to channel her energy elsewhere. If she can’t be on the court, she can still be here—still lead, still help her team in every way she can.

Her hair is perfectly straightened, sleek and sharp, the way she likes it. Her makeup looks good, too—just enough to emphasize her sharp cheekbones and blue eyes, but nothing overdone. The uniform ties it all together, making her look just like the player she’s supposed to be, the one she still is even if she’s stuck on the sidelines.

She takes a couple mirror pics—her annual media day mirror pics. They come out well, and she posts them to Instagram with the caption “5’ll be back soon,” because it will. She will.

By the time the day is in full effect, Paige knows the drill: photos, videos, soundbites for promos. She takes a few solo shots first, her expression switching between serious and smiles for the camera. Then it’s duo photos—first with Azzi, then with Nika and Aaliyah, her classmates. They laugh and joke between snaps, Nika managing to pinch Paige and Aaliyah during one, probably getting a perfect reaction picture.

Whilst Jo is getting her photos done, Paige is off to the side, hyping her up. When she makes Jo laugh—loud and sudden, the kind that makes her throw her head back—Paige is the one who catches the photographer’s eye. He gestures for her to join Jo, saying how he likes their energy together. Paige does as he asks, coming into view of the camera.

They stand side by side, first posed with their arms crossed, meant to look tough and intimidating. Then, the photographer tells Jo to lean her arm casually on Paige’s shoulder. Jo does, and it feels so normal, so them, that Paige doesn’t even notice how close they are until the photos pop up on the photographer’s screen.

“Yo,” Paige says, leaning in closer to the preview image. “We look good.”

Jo grins, nudging the blonde with her elbow. “Yeah, we do.”

And they do. There’s something about the way they look together—Jo’s darker features contrasting with Paige’s lighter ones, their postures balanced between playful and powerful—that feels striking.

When the photographer tells them they’re done, Jo taps Paige on the back lightly, her touch lingering for a half-second too long. Paige pretends not to notice.

They continue on through a mix of photos, promo videos, and shorter interviews. Paige’s role as “Coach P,” as everyone’s begun calling her, doesn’t go unnoticed.

Nika, of course, has to chime in. “That girl ain’t my coach,” she mutters loud enough for everyone to hear, shaking her head while she stirs a few laughs from their teammates and some of the media coordinators.

Paige rolls her eyes but before she can respond, Jo cuts in, throwing her arms around Paige’s shoulders from behind and resting her chin right by Paige’s neck. “You’re right, Nik,” Jo says, her voice teasing as her arms tighten slightly around Paige. “She’s not your coach. She’s mine.”

Nika hisses at her in mock annoyance, making Jo laugh loudly as she lets go of Paige—though not before making sure to squeeze Paige’s shoulders fondly.

Paige hardly notices the way Nika flicks at Jo’s arm afterwards, or the way Jo sticks her tongue out at her. Instead, her brain replays the words—she’s mine.

Mine, mine, mine, mine.

It’s not like that, though. And, goddamn, she has to get herself together.

Luckily, she has an interview waiting for her, so she doesn’t have long to continue dwelling on it. Except, actually, she thinks she might be unlucky, because when she spots Celeste Sinclair waiting for her with that soft little smirk and a glint in her eyes, Paige almost groans aloud.

She supposes she did this to herself, though. It’s not like she didn’t know Celeste was one of their media girls when she started fucking her—it’s literally how they met.

As Paige approaches, Celeste’s eyes sweep over her, lingering just a fraction too long on the way her uniform fits. Paige notices it immediately, and begins to steel herself.

“Paige,” the redhead greets, her tone syrupy and professional, but there’s a flicker of something else underneath. Something Paige is very familiar with.

“Celeste,” Paige replies evenly, keeping her expression neutral. She folds her hands in front of her, trying not to let her irritation show. She doesn’t have time for this—doesn’t have the patience or willpower to handle another girl turned obsessed—but media day is about appearances, so she plasters on a polite smile and takes the mini mic Celeste offers her.

The questions start predictably enough. Celeste asks about her recovery, her plans for the future, how she’s adjusting. Paige answers each question with the kind of practiced ease she’s managed to master over the years. She talks about her rehab process, about staying focused, about how the comeback will be stronger than the setback. The words feel automatic now, almost rehearsed.

Still, it stings a little. Every time she’s reminded that she won’t touch the court this season, that she’ll have to watch from the bench while her teammates fight for another championship, there’s a flicker of frustration she can’t quite extinguish.

But she doesn’t let it show. Obviously.

Celeste presses on, asking something about how Paige is adapting to her new role as a leader from the bench, and Paige forces herself to smile through it. She talks about embracing the role of “Coach P,” about how it’s just as important to support the team off the court as it is on it. She doesn’t let her voice waver, doesn’t let any of the bitterness slip through.

When the interview finally wraps, Paige exhales quietly, ready to walk away—but Celeste steps closer, cutting her off.

“So,” Celeste says, her voice dropping just enough to make it clear this part isn’t for the cameras. “You’ve been busy out west, yeah? I—you haven’t been back at all lately.”

Paige sighs a little. “Yeah, well. Rehab and stuff. You know how it is.”

Celeste tilts her head. “I do. Still, I thought you might text or call or something. I left you a few messages, but you never answered.”

Paige resists the urge to roll her eyes. Celeste’s persistence is both flattering and annoying. Yeah, the sex had been good—but was it genuinely good enough for Celeste to continuously run after Paige when she’s made it more than obvious that she doesn’t really want her? Paige doesn’t think so.

But, then again, Paige is better with her tongue and fingers than Celeste is.

“Been busy,” Paige says again, brushing her off.

The red-haired girl doesn’t seem deterred, though. She leans in just slightly, murmuring, “Well, if you’re not too busy tonight or even later this week… ?”

Paige starts to shake her head, ready to shut it down. She has enough girls in her bed back in LA that she doesn’t need to make up for it here while she’s only back for a few days.

But then—her mind flashes to this morning. To Jo. To the messages from Asher. The pit that settles in her stomach when she saw the I love you and I miss you and the baby. Something about it still lingers, sharp and annoying, and Paige can’t quite shake it.

Before she really thinks about what she’s doing, she hears herself saying, “Actually, I am free tonight.”

Celeste’s face lights up, her smile widening. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Paige echoes, her tone casual, like she isn’t committing to something she’s already dreading a little. “I fly back to LA in a couple days, so tonight works.”

Celeste doesn’t bother hiding her excitement. “Perfect. Come over later?”

Paige nods and Celeste looks almost giddy as she finally walks away.

As Paige rejoins her teammates, sitting next to Jo, the brunette smirks at her a little, judging her arm and asking, “Again?”

Paige feels heat rushing up her neck and into her cheeks. “Stop, it’s nothing,” she says quickly.

Jo doesn’t press or tease her much like anyone else would, just letting out a little laugh under her breath before getting up for one of her own interviews.

Paige can’t help but watch her during it. And think.

Jo, asleep in her bed this morning, soft and peaceful and pretty. Jo, laughing loudly during their photoshoot. Jo, whose phone had lit up with messages from a boyfriend that Paige can’t stand to think about.

Her jaw tightens slightly, and she shoves the thoughts aside. She’s going to Celeste’s tonight. At least she’ll be doing something.

[snowysosturn]

Fire & Desire - Matt Sturniolo Part 5

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Pairing: Y/n x Matt Sturniolo

Summary: Y/n has always clashed with Matt. Despite working for Chris’s clothing brand and being close with Nick, her relationship with Matt has always been tense at best. While being forced to be around each other more, their animosity turns into something deeper. Can they overcome their differences, or will their fiery emotions tear them apart?

Warnings: MDNI, angst, tension, suggestive, arguing

Matt shrugged casually, “Nothing. We just thought there was a delivery at the door.” his voice steady to make it seem convincing.

I felt relief wash over me, thankful for the cover, it would save me having to explain to everyone that my toxic ex just randomly appeared at their house. The calmness in Matt’s response seemed to diffuse the curiosity hanging in the air.

Chris nodded, his suspicion easing, though he didn’t look entirely convinced. “Oh I’m not expecting a delivery just yet anyway.”

Nick interrupted, gesturing toward Nate. “Hey, by the way, since we didn’t really get a chance last time, this is Nate.”

Nate stepped forward, extending a hand with an easy smile. “Nice to meet you, properly this time.”

I shook his hand in return, flashing a polite smile. “Yeah last time was a little rushed.”

“Oh that’s on me!” Nate admitted with a chuckle. “I was half out the door when we met. Hopefully, this time’s better.”

Nate had an effortless charm about him, different from Chris’s boisterous energy, Nick’s sharp wit and Matt’s cold nature.

The group started settling on the couch living room. Nick clapped his hands together, like he had a lightbulb moment. “You know what? We should do a games night tonight. Something fun before you two head off to Vegas. I’ll call Madi, she’s always up for a games night.”

I’d gotten to know Madi pretty well by now, it was a nice feeling to know I'd have another girl around, even if only for a little while. I told myself it could be a good tension breaker, especially with Nate staying under the same roof for the next few days.

“That sounds fun!” Nate chimed in, leaning back against the kitchen counter. “Games are cool and all, but how about we make it interesting? A few drinks maybe?”

Nick grinned. “Now you’re talking!”

Chris chuckled, shaking his head. “Of course, you’d suggest drinking.”

“I’ll go grab the party essentials.” I offered before the conversation could go too far off the rails. “Snacks, drinks, whatever we need. Might as well make myself useful.” I offered since I was starting to feel a bit overwhelmed, maybe a shopping trip would clear my head a bit.

Chris glanced over at me. “You sure? I can go with you if you want.”

I waved him off. “It’s fine don’t worry. You guys can stay here and have a catch up.”

“Alright” Matt muttered, his tone neutral but his gaze lingering on me for a moment longer than necessary.

As I grabbed my bag and slipped on my shoes as I ordered an Uber. This could be a fun night, I felt a mix of anticipation and curiosity about how it would all play out.

Once I got to Walmart, I grabbed a shopping cart and started with the priority - spirits.

I picked up a variety of alcohol, vodka, rum, tequila, and even a bottle of apple sourz. I thought it would be a good idea to pick up a crate of beet too, better to have too much than not enough. Next, I searched for the snacks, tossing in bags of pretzels, 2 tubes of Pringles, chocolate, donuts, and a few other random items that caught my eye. 

I wandered into the games aisle, scanning the shelves for something fun but not too complicated. I grabbed 5 Second Rule and Twister and added them to the cart. I debated on picking up Monopoly, but I know Nick refuses to play it with Matt.

As I made my way to the checkout, I felt a little lighter. The morning had been intense, maybe tonight was exactly what I needed.

The day passed in a blur of light tasks and lingering thoughts. Madi arrived and her presence immediately shifted the energy in the house. She had this way of making everything feel easy, and it was a relief to have another girl around for a change.

We set up around the kitchen table, where I laid the drinks and snacks out. Nate slid into the chair next to me, his friendly and easy going demeanor making me feel comfortable despite everything that had happened in recent days. He was effortlessly charming, asking questions about working with Chris and making jokes that had me genuinely laughing.

Chris and Matt stood nearby, chatting quietly. Chris was his usual goofy self, but Matt's mood still felt frosty. He wasn’t ignoring me exactly, but his responses were clipped, his energy distant. So more or less, Matt was acting normal toward me. I tried not to let it bother me. They’d be leaving for Vegas tomorrow, and maybe some space would be good, for both of us.

“I’m keeping it light tonight” Chris said, pouring himself a splash of whiskey on the rocks. “Don’t wanna hit Vegas hungover.”

“Speak for yourself” Nate chimed in with a grin as he stood and walked to the counter, taking a shot of tequila. “This is a warm up for Hawaii.”

Matt chuckled as he shook his head watching Nate take the shot. “I’m good with a few. Got enough chaos waiting for us tomorrow.”

I couldn’t help but think of Chris and Matt navigating the madness of Vegas together. It suited Chris, but Matt? He didn’t seem like the Vegas type. Yet something about imagining him there, relaxed and out of this usual, guarded demeanor, was kinda intriguing.

“Guess that means more for us!” I said, raising my glass to Madi and Nick.

"Alright, enough standing around. Let’s play a game. How about 5 Second Rule? Haven’t played that in ages.” Chris stated, his energy already setting the tone for the night.

Madi cheered in agreement, while Nate gave a nod. "Sounds good, but I’m giving you all a warning, I’m competitive."

“Oh, we know” Chris teased, pulling the game box off the counter and setting it on the kitchen table. "'Mon, everyone grab a seat."

I settled into my chair next to Nate while Matt reluctantly took a spot across from me. Madi next to him with Chris and Nick at each end of the table.

“Alright, rules are simple” Nick said, shuffling the cards. “I’ll read a prompt, and you’ve got five seconds to name three things in the category. If you don’t you lose your turn.”

“Got it” we all replied, almost in unison.

Chris smirked. “Perfect. Let’s see who embarrasses themselves first. I’ll start it off.” He glanced at Madi as he picked up a card. “Name three pizza toppings. Go!”

Madi’s face lit up. “Pepperoni, mushrooms, pineapple!”

Nick slapped the timer just as the last word left her mouth. “Alright, she’s safe. Nate, your turn. Name three sports where you use a ball.”

Nate leaned back, his confidence showing. “Football, basketball, baseball. Easy.”

Nick rolled his eyes as the timer dinged. “Alright, you’re not impressing anyone. Your turn, Y/n.”

I straightened up, bracing myself as Nate read the card this time. “Name three things you’d find in a bathroom.”

“Toothpaste, shampoo, towels” I rattled off quickly, relieved as the timer buzzed right after. “But none of them are mine since I have to keep my things in my room.” I say playfully, my eyes boring into Matt, alluding to the whole bathroom fiasco. He turned away from me rolling his eyes in response.

Chris grinned mischievously as he shuffled the cards, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Alright, how about we make up our own prompts, let’s make this interesting."

Madi raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Interesting how?"

"You’ll see.." Chris said, leaning forward as he glanced at Nate. "Alright, Nate, you’re up. Name three places you’ve made out in that aren’t a bedroom."

Nate chuckled, completely unfazed. "A car, a beach, a supply closet."

Madi gasped dramatically. "A supply closet?!"

"I mean I havent, not.. yet." Nate replied with a shrug as the timer dinged.

Chris cackled and turned to Madi. "Your turn. Name three things you wouldn’t want your parents to find in your room."

Madi’s cheeks flushed, but she grinned. "A vibrator, weed, and.. And uhhhh–" She paused as the timer buzzed, then groaned. "Fuck! That was tough."

"You were doing so well" Chris teased, shaking his head before turning to me.

"Alright, Y/n. Name three reasons someone might get kicked out of a party."

I hesitated for a second before rattling off, "Throwing up, starting a fight, hooking up with the host’s ex!"

Everyone burst into laughter as the timer buzzed.

Matt smirked across the table, his first sign of amusement all night. "Hooking up with the host’s ex? That sounded specific."

I rolled my eyes, ignoring the heat in my cheeks. "It’s just a hypothetical, alright? Your turn, Matt."

Chris scrunched his eyebrows as he thought of a prompt for Matt. "Oh, I’ve got one for you. Name three ways to flirt without talking. "

Matt raised an eyebrow, completely unfazed. "Eye contact, smirking, and-" He paused just long enough for the timer to buzz, then shrugged.

"Come on, you couldn’t think of a third one?" Nick said, laughing.

Matt’s eyes flicked toward me briefly, his smirk lingering. "Maybe I didn’t want to give away all my secrets."

The comment hung in the air for a second, and I quickly looked away, taking a sip of my drink.

"Alright, my turn to stir the pot" Madi announced, turning to look at Chris. "Name three things you’ve lied to a girl about."

Chris groaned but didn’t hesitate. "My age, my job, and.. uh, my feelings."

The table erupted in laughter, and Chris shrugged shamelessly. "What can I say? Gotta keep them guessing."

The game continued, each question more daring and ridiculous than the last, until the room was filled with laughter and empty glasses. It was chaotic, messy, and a little too revealing, but somehow, it was the most fun I’d had in ages.

The vodka lemonade in my hand felt heavier as I swirled it around aimlessly, trying to focus on the game instead of the slight tipsy feeling in my head. Nate was leaning back in his chair, clearly more drunk than anyone else, and grinned mischievously. "Alright, let’s make this more interesting. Truth or dare, spin the bottle style. If you refuse a dare you have to take a shot!"

Madi gasped, laughing as she reached for her drink. "Oh no, this is about to get messyyyyy."

"Messy’s the point" Nate laughed.

“Okayyyy this is my cue to go to bed!” Chris announces as he stands to push his chair in, disappearing downstairs to his room.

Nate rubbed his hands together like a cartoon villain before he spun the bottle, it landing on Nick. “I’ll go with dare to kick this game off properly!” Nick laughed.

“Alright I dare you to down your drink and take a shot straight after, since you’re all for kicking this off the right way!” Nate laughs.

Nick groaned but complied, downing the remainder of his drink and wincing as he followed it with a shot of tequila. "You’re the worst, Nate" he said, coughing slightly, but the group fell in to laughter.

The bottle spun again, this time landing on Matt. His jaw tensed slightly, but he leaned back, looking relaxed. "Dare" he said, his voice calm.

Nick jumped at the opportunity. "I dare you to let someone send a risky text off your phone."

Matt’s eyes narrowed, and he hesitated for a second before shrugging. "Fine, whatever. Who’s doing it?"

Nick’s grin widened as he turned to me. "Y/n."

I blinked, caught off guard. "Me? Are you sure?"

"Oh absolutely" Nick said, sliding Matt’s phone across the table toward me. "You’ve got the perfect touch for this."

Matt gave me a pointed look, his lips twitching slightly in what might’ve been amusement or annoyance. "Don’t screw it up."

I picked up his phone, without a need to unlock it since he handed it over with no code needed. As I was scrolling through his contacts, a message popped up on the screen, from someone called Christina. "Can’t wait to see you again 😉"

I froze for a second, the words glaring at me. Without thinking, I read it out loud. "Oh, looks like you’ve got a message."

Matt’s head snapped up. "From who?"

I tilted the phone slightly, showing the message. "Christina?"

Nate leaned forward, a smirk playing on his lips. "Wait, is that the Christina you met in Vegas? The one from July?"

Matt shrugged nonchalantly, but his expression tightened ever so slightly. "Yeah, that’s her."

Nate let out a low whistle. "She’s gonna be there again this time, isn’t she?"

Matt nodded, his tone casual. "Probably."

I don’t know why, but a wave of jealousy hit me, sharp and unexpected. My grip on his phone tightened for a second before I forced myself to focus on the dare. "Should I send something to her?" I asked, my voice light but edged with something I hoped wasn’t obvious.

Matt raised an eyebrow, his expression unreadable. "If you want to, go ahead."

The room felt suddenly smaller, the playful atmosphere shifting. I could feel Madi watching me, and Nate was clearly enjoying the tension. I hesitated for a moment, debating if I should actually send a message to this Christina or if I should pick someone else.

"Tick tock Y/n! You’ve got to make a move!" Nick teased. 

I forced a smirk, my fingers hovering over the screen.

I quickly typed out a message to Christina, my fingers working faster than my mind. "Hey me too, you might need to get an STD check this time though.'" I laughed to myself before pressing send.

The moment I handed the phone back to Matt, I tried to mask the sudden fluttering in my stomach. I didn’t meet his eyes, avoiding the tension that hung between us like a thick fog. I didn’t know what I was trying to prove or if I was even making sense, but it felt like something had shifted in the air, something I couldn’t undo now.

As I settled back into my seat, the bottle spun again, and everyone’s eyes fell on me. It stopped, right on me.

Nate grinned devilishly, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Alright, Y/n. Truth or dare?"

I groaned, taking a sip of my drink to avoid eye contact. "Dare" I muttered, already regretting it.

Nate leaned back, his grin widening. "Okay, I dare you to spend seven minutes in heaven with me."

I froze.

The room fell silent for a split second, and I could feel all eyes on me, the weight of their gazes too heavy to ignore. Nate’s smirk was a mixture of playfulness and something more serious, something that made my heart race in a way I wasn’t sure I was ready for.

I glanced over at Matt instinctively, only to see his eyes harden, his expression unreadable. A pit formed in my stomach as I quickly turned away, focusing back on Nate.

"Seven minutes?" I repeated, trying to make it sound casual, but my voice betrayed me, thick with uncertainty.

Nate’s eyes were sparkling with excitement. "Yeah, just a harmless bit of fun. No pressure, you can just take the shot."

I swallowed hard. Seven minutes. A small, stupid game. But something told me this wasn’t just about a silly dare. It felt like more, like I was walking on the edge of something I didn’t know if I was ready for.

But, I couldn’t back out now. Not with everyone watching. And definitely not with Matt’s eyes burning a hole in the side of my head.

"Okay" I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "Seven minutes, lets go."

Nate and I stood and awkwardly walked toward the tiny supply closet across from Matt’s room, gesturing for me to step inside. The space was cramped, with barely enough room to stand between the washing machine and the wall. I hesitated before following him in, increasingly aware of how quiet the hallway had become. Nick close over the door behind us “Okay I’m setting a timer for you seven minutes now!”

I pulled myself up to sit on the washing machine to try and allow more space. Nate stood in close proximity, leaning against the wall, his broad frame making the already tight space feel even smaller.

He noticed my hesitation immediately and raised his hands in mock surrender. "Relax, Y/n. I’m not gonna do anything you don’t want to do" he said, his voice soft and reassuring.

I nodded. "It’s not that. It’s just-”

Nate chuckled, his grin easy and comforting. "Yeah, I get it. We’re cramped in here like sardines. Not exactly romantic, huh? We can just mess with everyone’s heads when we get out. Pretend something wild happened.”

I appreciated his reassurance, but my mind wasn’t fully there. It kept circling back to that text from Christina, to the girl Matt had brought home just the other night. Why was I bothered by these things?

We went back and forth trying to mess with everyones heads for a few minutes, the tension easing with each playful exchange. Nate had this way of making me forget the discomfort of the situation, his charm and humor cutting through the awkwardness like a lifeline.

But as the seconds ticked by, I couldn’t help but feel the weight of the situation creeping back in. Why had I felt so conflicted when Nate dared me? Why had I instinctively looked at Matt? Why was I holding back? Why was I constantly tiptoeing around Matt’s feelings when he barely seemed to care about mine? The way he acted so indifferent toward me, except for those rare moments of kindness that only confused me more. Maybe I was overthinking, but it felt like I was always waiting for some unspoken approval from him.

But why should I?

I turned back to Nate. His expression was calm, patient, and his smile had a boyish charm that was impossible to deny. He leaned casually against the wall, his hands tucked into his pockets like he wasn’t in a cramped laundry closet playing some silly game.

Maybe I needed to stop worrying so much about Matt, about what he thought or didn’t think. He wasn’t the one in front of me right now.

I took a breath, holding eye contact with Nate, my heart racing in a way that had nothing to do with nerves. He raised an eyebrow in surprise but didn’t move, letting me take the lead.

As I tilted my head toward him, ready to close the distance, Nick’s voice rang out from the other side of the door, loud and teasing.

“Alright, lovebirds! Time’s up!”

I froze mid motion, my face heating up in embarrassment as Nate chuckled softly.

“We’ll I guess thats us!” He said playfully.

I leaned back, unable to meet his eyes as he opened the door. The sudden flood of light felt blinding, and the sound of laughter from the others only added to my growing embarrassment.

As we stepped out, I glanced toward the table and immediately caught Matt’s gaze. His expression was unreadable, but there was something in the way his jaw tightened that sent a bit of confusion through me.

“Have fun in there?” Matt asked, his tone neutral but laced with something sharp beneath the surface.

I wanted to say something snarky, but the words got caught in my throat. Instead, I turned my attention to my drink, needing something to steady myself.

Nate slid back into his seat, clearly amused. “Best seven minutes of my life” he joked, earning a round of laughter from Nick and Madi.

But Matt didn’t laugh. And for some reason, that bothered me more than it should.

Nick suggested switching things up, his voice full of mischief. "How about we switch it up, what about Never have I ever?"

Madi immediately perked up, slapping her hands together. "Ooh, yes! That’s always fun!"

The group agreed, and Nick quickly grabbed a fresh round of drinks, refilling everyone’s glasses to ensure the game could properly escalate. I could already tell this was going to get messy.

We all sat in a circle, Nate to my right and Matt now to my left, the energy in the room buzzing with anticipation. Nate nudged me playfully. "Hope you’re ready to spill some secrets" he teased.

I rolled my eyes, taking a sip of my drink just to brace myself. "I’d watch out too if I were you!" I shot back.

Nick took charge of the first round. He leaned back in his chair, clearly enjoying the power of starting the game. “Never have I ever.. kissed someone in this room."

I froze, feeling my face heat up. Nate raised an eyebrow, glancing at me with a smirk, we laughed into eachother knowing we wanted to fuck with everyones heads.

"Someone’s gotta shake things up." Nate laughed.

Madi took the next turn. Never have I ever... hooked up with someone I regretted."

A ripple of tension moved through the group. Nick and Madi both took a sip, Nate chuckling awkwardly.

To my surprise, Matt lifted his glass and drank, his gaze flicking toward me for the briefest second before looking away.

It made me feel strange, but I tried not to deep it, instead, taking another sip of my drink for no reason other than to keep myself occupied.

When it was my turn, I hesitated. Everyone was looking at me expectantly, the pressure to come up with something spicy almost overwhelming.

"Alright. Never have I ever.. led someone on."

The group fell into playful gasps and laughter, but my eyes stayed locked on Matt.

He didn’t flinch. Instead, he picked up his glass and took a slow sip, holding my gaze the entire time. I couldn’t tell if it was a challenge or an admission, but it left me feeling more conflicted than ever.

The tension in the room was thick as ever when it got to Matt’s turn. His face full of mischief. 

"Never have I ever.." he paused for dramatic effect, letting the silence linger just a beat too long, "..had my ex appear at the house I’m staying in, causing a scene."

The words nearly knocked me out. My stomach sank as I stared at him, my drink frozen halfway to my lips. Why the fuck would he say that?

Nick shifted uncomfortably, muttering something under his breath about the game getting too real, but no one really paid him attention.

I felt every set of eyes in the room turn toward me, and heat crept up my neck, both from anger and embarrassment. I didn’t move, didn’t drink, but my hand tightened around the glass in my grip. I felt like everyone was slowly putting the pieces together from this morning.

"What’s the matter, Y/n?" Matt asked, his voice calm but condescending. "Not drinking?"

I finally lowered the glass to the table, meeting his gaze head on. "I’m sorry, are we airing everyone’s dirty laundry now? Or just mine?"

His lips twitched into a smirk, but there was no humor in it. "Just playing the game."

Nate leaned forward, wanting to clear this question. "Alright, let’s not kill the vibe. It’s just a game, right?" He shot Matt a warning look, but Matt didn’t break eye contact with me.

"Right" I said, forcing a smile as I picked up my glass and took a sip. The alcohol burned going down, but it was nothing compared to the fire in my chest.

Madi cleared her throat, clearly trying to cut through the tension. "Okay, let’s move on!" she said, her voice overly chipper. "Um, my turn! Never have I ever.. gone skinny dipping!"

The room tried to recover, laughter breaking out as Nate and Nick both drank, but I barely registered it. My mind was spinning, replaying Matt’s words over and over. Why would he say that? Was he trying to embarrass me? To prove some kind of point? I swallowed the lump in my throat, determined not to let him get to me. If he wanted a reaction, he wasn’t going to get one.

It came back around to my turn, I knew I had an opportunity. I could feel the tension from Matt’s earlier comment still hanging in the air, and I wasn’t about to let him have the last word.  

“Never have I ever.. took a girl home and fucked her multiple times during the night knowing you have a guest in the house who can hear every single bit of it to try and make them feel uncomfortable.”

The room went dead silent.

Every single eye turned to me. Matt’s smirk faltered for the first time all night, his jaw tightening as my words sank in. But I wasn’t backing down. Not after the jab he threw earlier. My gaze stayed locked on Matt, challenging him.

Nick could clearly sense the charged atmosphere but unsure whether to step in. Nate, on the other hand, leaned back in his chair, his hands behind his head as his eyes wide with both amusement and disbelief.

Matt finally broke the silence, leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and tilting his head slightly. "Well" he said, his voice smug as ever "if the guest didn’t want to hear anything, maybe they should’ve stayed in their own apartment instead of squatting in mine."

I felt my cheeks flush hot with both anger and embarrassment. "Squatting?" I snapped. "Wow, I didn’t realize letting someone crash because they didn’t have anywhere else to go counted as charity work for you."

Matt shrugged, his gaze burning into me. "Call it what you want. Just saying, the walls go both ways. If you don’t like what you hear, maybe you should get your own place."

"Or maybe" I shot back, "you could show a little respect for the fact that someone else is living here too. But clearly, that’s asking too much."

Nate looked like he wanted to crawl under the table. Madi awkwardly sipped her drink.

"Alright, alright" Nick finally cut in, his hands raised as if to physically push the tension down. "Maybe this game was a bad idea. Let’s just.. take a breather, yeah?"

But I wasn’t done. "No, it’s fine" I said as I stood up, my voice sharp. "Game’s over anyway. Matt’s clearly got all the answers."

I didn’t wait for anyone to respond. I turned on my heel and walked out of the room, my heart pounding as I made my way upstairs.

Behind me, I could hear the muffled sounds of Nick giving out to Matt for how he spoke to me, Madi trying to diffuse the situation. But the only thing I could focus on was the sound of Matt’s voice replaying in my head, over and over again. If Matt wanted a war, he’d just gotten one.

A hot tear streamed down my face as I lay back on my bed. I wasn’t sure where things would take me now, where I could go, how I would get there, if this would affect working with Chris.

But one thing I was sure of was,

I hate Matt Sturniolo.

a/n: when they go low we go LOWER

taglist : @mattybearnard @sturn-33 @ncm9696 @yourfavsturniologirl @crazy4jewel @sodakid1234 @stupendoustreewinner @lovealwayssturniolos @matthewsturniolosss @m4ttsmunch @loveexxx @ilusa @starkeyszn @wonnieeluvvr @dylnblue @valxrieq @maggot3647 @cigarettecemetary @ribread03 @chrisstvrns @bandasaruswrx @noplaceissafeanymore @amexiass @witchofthehour @mattssgf @jetaimevous @v33angel  @ivysturnss @urmom69lol @ashlishes @watercolorskyy @sturnioloshottiekay @amelia-sturniolo3 @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @pvssychicken @alizestvrnss @chrisstxrnsaxe @sophand4n4 @vickytaa @marrykisskilled @bxtchboy69 @yourfavsturniologirl @julisturn @sydneyylainn @sophia-77n @trevorsgodmother @sturnslutz @yourmother29 @girl24cherry @astronea @pinkdyit

[bowsnstrings]

Diamond Boy (DTM)!

Onyankopon x Black Coded Character✌️🏾

Summary: After realizing that she has feelings for her handsome plug, Milana decides to give in to her rapidly growing crush for him, but what happens when things get a bit too intimate too fast?

Warning MDNI!: First date fluff mostly! Mentions of thigh riding, Praise and Dirty Talk, Mentions of smoking weed, Mentions of food, Original character with original descriptions.

Masterlist:🍃

Word Count: 6.8k

First kisses were supposed to be awkward, a little disappointing, and definitely nerve wracking. Too much tongue, or not enough passion, at least something that you could go and tell your friends about so you don’t sound like you’re already falling for a person you’ve only kissed. At least a little funny cringey moment to keep it lighthearted and easy, nothing like the kiss Milana and Ony shared.

It started so sweet, his lips pressing so softly over hers that she questioned if this was actually happening. Her first kiss, clutching the most gorgeous flowers she’d ever received, holding onto an even more beautiful boy. Her hand, shaky with anxiousness, raised to rest over the side of his face, thumb sliding over his cheek to feel his warm skin and ground her enough to savor every second.

Something about that made everything change in an instant, Ony pressing forward with determined movements, practiced ease getting the best of her. He easily took the lead, capturing her again and again, using a hand on her chin to help her keep pace with him. Her other hand held onto his bicep, feeling like she was going to topple over if they continued, neither of them thinking about anything else in the moment besides the electric feeling that came when they connected.

Moving in sync to deepen it further, until they pulled apart with nasty smack, both taking large breaths to cool down. It seemed like Ony couldn’t get enough though, giving her two quick pecks to her pursed lips, her eyes dreamy and looked like they were swirling with hearts.

“Fuck.” He groaned, purring low right in her face, biting down on his lip to contain himself from doing too much in public. His eyes scanned around to make sure no one was looking, lazily combing the area until they landed back on hers, another smile on his face that made her feel a lot lighter. “You be getting niggas caught up, huh?”

Her face scrunched up, smacking her lips as Ony laughed, a hand coming to cover up his smile as Milana pushed him away. “No.” She rolled her eyes at him, joining in on his sniggering, not being able to hold back her joy for long. “I don’t even date.” The admission wasn’t as bitter as she thought it would be, just a shrug off that she wasn’t so concerned about.

“This is a date, Ma. What ‘you think I’ve been trying to do all day?” He wiggled his brows at her suggestively, standing up to get out of his crouched position, moving back to sit and actually start eating.

“What? This is not a date. You have to ask a girl first, Ony.” She exclaimed as he dropped down, not knowing if he was eyeing her or his ribeye in hunger. “Besides, how do you know I wanna go on a date?” Deciding it was better to join him instead of staring, she laid her flowers down to pick up her silverware with a teasing remark.

He couldn’t even hide his happiness at her burst of confidence, chuckling at the way her lips twisted to hide her smile, determined to hold her face steady. That’s alright, he knew exactly what to say to make her crack. “Mama, with the way you kiss we're for sure going on a date.”

Oh Ony was good alright, that low drawn out humm while thinking of the memory was a nice added touch, her legs clamping shut as soon as the deep sound left him. She had to admit, he had game, but she wasn’t going to just let him have all the fun. “Still didn’t hear you ask me…” Milana sighed, playing up her uninterested look by sitting back, mimicking his nonchalant face that he puts on.

His eyes lit up in recognition, laughing at the way she bunched her eyebrows together like he did when he was annoyed. Damn, was he really that readable? She must’ve done her homework, seen him more than he thought she had. As flattering as it was, he still wasn’t going to let her win, licking over his bottom lip to bring in her focus as he dropped his voice to really play up his words.

“Please, Milana?”

That definitely did it, her hands jerking at his sultry plea, like he was begging to kiss her again. Fork accidentally clashing onto her plate noisily, face flushed in surprise, trying to collect herself under his steamy gaze. She realized that he was waiting on a response, actually asking in a way she’d never expect in a million years. “Okay…” Agreeing blindly, knowing that if he ever wanted her to do something, all he’d have to do was say is please.

“Tomorrow, it’s settled.”

“Ony!” She should’ve definitely seen that one coming, and yet she still dropped her mouth in shock, flowers nearly bumped off the table if it weren’t for her hands grabbing them as quickly as they did. “Are-you can’t be serious. So soon?”

He nodded enthusiastically, with almost childlike wonder like they were elementary crushes getting to sit together for the first time. “The only day it can happen is tomorrow. Promise if you go you’ll have fun.” With the way he said it, she definitely believed him, and why not throw caution to the wind. So far when she did it got her some action, no harm in that. So, she said yes, twirling a petal around her finger as she felt her flowers, smiling across from him as they talked about any and everything. They sat there for the longest breakfast in the world, getting to know each other like they were old friends meeting again. Laughing at their similarities, sharing their values, and trying to get Ony to spill any clues about their first date.

He wouldn’t budge at all, instead redirecting her with jokes and funny stories as they ate, showing such a rare side of him not a lot of people saw. It’s been such a long time since he felt like he could let loose around a girl, not having to put up a tough ass act, afraid that if he showed even a bit of vulnerability the fantasy of a relationship would just crumble. Provide, protect, and don’t be a pussy, the only things he was told about women really.

For once, he thought that maybe, just maybe, he didn’t always have to be so hard all the time. That Ony could take off that mask he wears, and not have to hold back from expressing himself because she was doing the same for him. He could see it, the way she was trying to be vulnerable like she couldn’t help but wear her heart on her sleeve, and all he wanted was to be the one to keep it safe for her.

Perhaps, that’s why he already couldn’t keep his hands off of her, a calloused palm sliding down her arm being cautious and gentle. Walking hand in hand underneath a lovely orange sun, the blue sky pushing wind to blow her hair around and make her look so pretty that he didn’t want to drop her back off. Clinging onto her hand as they made it to Milana’s front door again, knowing that the waiting was going to eat him alive.

“I had a good time.” She admitted, her shy attitude making it that much harder to go, his thumb rubbing over her knuckles to commit the feeling to memory. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” Hopeful excitement shining in her eyes as they looked up at him, his head falling down to lean in closer, eclipsing her view of everything besides him.

“Six o’clock, tomorrow. Give me until then, Mama.” He murmured to her, pressing a long lasting kiss to her lips, pulling her in by sliding his hand around her back. Letting out a squeal and scrambling hands to hold onto him, she made sure not to stumble over in her sandals from trying to get to him so fast, head spinning at the way he was able to take the reins like that.

Ony willed himself away from her, drawing her in a calming hug that let her rest into him for just a second longer before he started walking back to his car. Calling out a goodbye after him, voice breathless with a meek wave. Making him turn one last time to send her a coy wink as he ducked into the front seat, leaving her standing on her doorstep like she was in a dream.

The rest of the day moved as slowly as she did, barely wanting to do anything else besides write and stare at the lilies now sitting in her nightstand vase. Oh God, would it be bad if she told him she missed him while he was gone? Too much and too soon, right? Definitely too clingy already, but a part of her was just crushing too hard right now. Kicking her feet up while she laid in bed, journal filled with curly cursive words, gushing over him like she was talking to her best friend.

All her life she could only imagine what this would feel like, and now she was experiencing it firsthand. That warm bubbly feeling of romance that she'd been begging for, and the thrill of it all was just too exhilarating. Ony was suave, confident, so effortlessly in control of everything he did, being with him felt like being able to let go. Release all her worry and stress, and it was scary to her that he could throw her into a total state of compliance, maybe even scarier was the fact that she liked being able to be the docile and sweet one while he handled everything.

He paid for their breakfast like it was his job, didn't even let her see the check, let alone touch it. Milana had a feeling that he was always generous, that he had a good heart underneath all that intimidation. Maybe, he just showed it through gestures, his actions definitely grand, making her feel spoiled already. She thought about it all as she hugged onto Oreo, trying to receive a bit more affection, counting down the hours until the arms she’d be in wouldn't have fur or paws.

The entire day since Milana woke up, she'd been getting ready for their night out. Practically glued to her vanity as she tweezed her brows, applied a mud mask, watching housewives as she did her makeup. Her skin rubbed down in marshmallow body cream, spraying her favorite perfume as she watched herself in the mirror, rollers giving her a slight headache as she tried not to be so nervous.

Taking the time out to pamper herself was nice, it relaxed her down, the hour long bath was helpful getting her in the right headspace, but she just wanted to see him already. He might've said something nice or funny to get her to smile instead of worrying, or calm her nerves enough to stop freaking out inside.

She stood in the mirror for nearly an hour, trying on everything in her closet that would be a possibility for any date. Skirts, heels, shorts, tops, but none of them felt right until the last outfit. Ony never told her what they'd be doing when they went out, so she only could hope that her long, tight brown dress with a crochet green bolero matched the occasion. She paired it with tan sandals in case they'd be close to the beach or had to do some walking, and her chunky vintage coach shoulder bag.

Milana wanted to impress him, look special and pretty, imagining she was a princess for the night as she slid in her twisted gold hoop earrings. By the time she was finished, it was getting into the late afternoon, trying to drink some honey chamomile tea and have some fruit to quell her nerves. Hearing that knock at the door almost spooked her, a rush of anxiousness hitting her all at once as she stopped to look at herself one more time.

Fluffing her hair and finding an extra roller she accidentally left in, she quickly straightened up and made sure nothing was in her teeth before pulling the door open. “Hi, Ony.” Milana smiled, trying to appear effortless and nonchalant until she saw the bouquet of flowers he held in his hands. Pretty pink and white roses, all blooming gracefully, wrapped in green paper for her to receive. He looked just as perfect as they did. Loose fitting jeans and a hoodie that made his arms look even bigger, a heavy gold chain glittering from underneath.

“Hey, Mama. These are for you.” He must've gotten a shave, his facial hair looking sharper, hair covered by a fitted baseball bat. His cologne almost engulfed her as he passed her the roses, pressing a kiss to her cheek as she breathed him in.

“Ony, you already got me flowers.” She still cooed happily as he gifted them to her, letting him inside all giddy and giggly.

“These are for our date, thought you might like ‘em when I saw the pink.” He remembered her saying that was her favorite color yesterday when they had breakfast, so he knew it'd only be right for her to have them.

“Aww, thank you. Let me get something to put them in.” He closed the door for her, eagerly entering to breathe her home in further, smiling at the good feeling he had being inside. The candles she lit had the perfect scent of vanilla, but nothing rivaled her perfume that was floating everywhere. He stopped for a moment, just taking it in as he stopped at a particular photo on the wall.

“You a writer?” He asked, pausing specifically at a picture he saw when he spent the night, one where she stood in her graduation gown, neck covered in medals and holding awards. She looked so cute when she was younger, glasses thicker and hair a bit shorter in curls pouring out of her decorated cap.

“I am I guess. Won a scholarship for it, but I think I should probably start writing more often.” She hummed out as she tried finding another vase for the new bunch of flowers. His gaze getting stuck on her as she bent over, noticing just how tight her dress was. He nearly swore out loud as her hips wiggled trying to pull it from the cabinet, her ass shaking lightly enough to trap him in a daze. Guess he’ll just have to adjust himself all night while he silently suffers.

“Is that what you do for work?” He tore his eyes away, feeling a bit hot as he tried distracting himself. Ony watched her straighten back up, filling the glass with water as she answered.

“Yeah, freelance. Pays the bills and what not.” She was fixing up the petals of her roses, placing them down on the table as he approached her. Reaching into his hoodie pocket, he pulled out something once she turned around, letting her eyes zero in on it before explaining.

“Picked up a treat for us,” His palm opened to show her a sandwich bag full of nugs, shifting around in there, hypnotizing her into watching it. The smell of potent greenery filled the air as soon as he opened it, letting her get a whiff and laughing when she scrunched her face at the smell of straight weed. “Named it ‘Laid-back ‘Lana’.” She couldn’t contain the giggle that bubbled up her throat at the name, her hand trying to cover her mouth at his playfulness.

“Why’d you name it that?” Milana asked, their light and playful banter easing away any thoughts from earlier. This is definitely what she missed, just being around him, basking in the way he joked around.

“‘Cause this shit will have you laid back on that ass the same way you had me on your couch.” Ony chuckled as he watched her burst into a fit of laughter, the most relaxed she’d ever been around him, and the atmosphere was only getting less and less tense. “Here, you got papers?” He asked, handing the bag for her to inspect some more.

“I don’t know how to roll my own…” Her hands fumbled slightly as Milana tried not to sound pathetic, but at twenty-two she should probably know how to roll her own blunt. Or change a tire, or file taxes; maybe she should start with those first.

“Don’t sweat it, Ma. I got backwoods, but you’ve probably never smoked with ‘em before. I got some good ass flavors though.” Obviously coming prepared, he pulled out a packet of the cigar leaves, the purple package reflective under the light as she read the words, ‘Honey Bourbon’, written all over it. “We got to head out to make it before it gets hella dark, so we’ll smoke on the way.”

After grabbing everything and locking up they left to head out, Ony’s hand falling to her back as he went behind her. The walk to his car was dizzying, feeling so stiff with the touch of a man on her. He lead her without having to say a word, and she almost felt like she could float away if she let herself go a bit more, scared of what would happen if she did. Sliding into his car to drive wherever they were supposed to be going, just taking the time to watch Ony as he moved.

Given his occupation, it was no wonder how experienced he was with handling the eighth he was carrying. Grinding it down easily, dusting it gradually into the leaf, thick fingers squeezing and rolling it between each other. Licking it off with a smooth glide of the tongue, their eyes meeting as he did, making her flush and look away. By the time she looked back he was done, the fat blunt sitting between his lips as he lit it, puffing out smoke that danced in the air, wrapping around their heads in grey streaks.

He leaned his head back, letting it glide out then sucking it back in to blow a ghost, shifting slightly to look at her as he passed it. She took it, knowing it'd at least ease her up some more, generously taking it down her lungs until she pulled back coughing after her uncoordinated breath. “Don't smoke much?” Ony laughed at how her eyes narrowed, he knew that already, just was teasing.

“I’ve never had any this strong.” Milana admitted, taking a much smaller puff before handing it back. The effects hitting her almost immediately, eyes going lax and lips pressing together as she felt a rush of euphoria. Ony had to admire how sexy she looked like that, her lashes hanging lower in a sensual cateye. Driving was his only distraction, trying not to turn and glance at her every five seconds, but he was failing that miserably. She wasn't doing much better, the high making it just that more obvious so she faced the window instead, watching the beach waves in his music filled car driving down the highway. Thirty minutes of the most torturous drive for either of them, only wanting to jump each other's bones and forget the formalities.

They were looking forward to this though, especially with the way Ony was so proud of himself once he saw her reaction. Pulling in she could see all the bright shining lights, hues of blue, red, and yellow everywhere in the cartoonish displays. The rides flashing at her as people screamed with joy in every direction, and soon as she stepped out of the car with his help, she could smell popcorn and funnel cake in the air. “The fair?” Her face was just lit up, and it had him pausing as he took it all in. That face was going to be the end of him, because he knew already that he'd go to the ends of the Earth just to see her look at him like that.

“Today’s the last day it’s in town. Knew I had to take you.” Ony took her by the hand as they walked around, getting through the entrance to take in every exciting sight and decide what they wanted to do first. He left it in her hands, indifferent to it all as he just wanted to let her have all the fun she wanted, happily trailing a step behind as she pulled him by the hand. Milana turned to look at him every step of the way, scanning his face to see if anything caught his eye.

They stopped at the ticket counter first, Ony reaching into his pocket for a thick wad of cash inside, neatly folded bills that he grabbed and pulled apart. Counting each one silently in her head, she tried to ignore the mixed feeling of guilt and gratitude, but that was easy given how desirable he looked while being so gracious. She briefly wondered if she should be scared about them getting robbed, but when she took into account how strong he looked, there wasn't too much to be afraid of. His eyes lazy as he hid the rest in his pocket, passing the woman the cash as he asked her, “Where you want to go first, Mama?”

“I don't know… I think I want to do some games, but I’m scared we won’t win.” Milana looked down at the string of red tickets the woman gave her, all bunched together in her hands. “Maybe this one?” She stopped at the booth right in front of them, a fish pond game where they'd at least get a prize judging by how easy it looked. Even the little kids around it were doing well, but Ony only gave a noncommittal hum as he continued looking around, his arm coming to wrap around her shoulders from behind, stepping so close that her stomach clenched in anticipation.

“What about that one?” He turned them to face a little further down, another game table there with giant prizes hanging all at the top. She let him maneuver them towards it, a little unsure once they got closer. It was a BB gun challenge, having to shoot down the targets from a far distance away.

“Are you sure?” Milana looked up at him, holding onto their tickets skeptically. She didn't want to be wasteful, Ony already paid a bunch of money for them to be able to get inside and use the tokens for rides and such. Ultimately, it didn't matter though, not with the way he was seemingly so flippant about it, taking some from her hands to pass to the worker there waiting on them.

“Don’t sweat it, Ma. Have some faith in me.” He was confident, if not a little cocky as he picked up the rifle, resting it in his hands as he focused his sights on aiming it correctly. His feet shoulder with apart, thick finger on the trigger with one eye closed, not moving or even taking a breath.

*bang*

Maybe it was how high she was, but the first shot came out of nowhere, making her jump when she heard the pellet make contact with the painted wood, hitting the small red dot in the middle.

*bang*

*bang*

The last two were quicker, but still made her eyes widen in awe at how fast he’d done that, moving one by one down the line until all three had holes in the center. She didn’t even think a minute had passed by before he was done, sliding the gun down and handing it back to the guy at the stand.

“What did we win?” Ony asked, turning to Milana as the man pointed out the stuffed animals hanging at the top of the booth, giant, almost as tall as her, and all so pretty. Immediately, she narrowed in on a big brown bear, with dark fur and sparkly chestnut eyes. She pointed meekly to it, arms stretched open to let the cuddly animal fall into them as it was passed to her. “You like it?”

Nodding, all smiley as her nails raked through its fur, she couldn’t express how grateful she was, carrying it around as they went down the rows of attractions. Playing games, sharing the biggest plate of funnel cake she’d ever seen, and laughing when Ony got powdered sugar all over his nose, willingly letting her dust it off with her soft hands. He ended up carrying her bear as they made their way to their last ride, the Ferris wheel, helping her step up into the seat as it rocked slightly back and forth.

“Is this safe?” Milana’s eyebrow raised slightly as she sat down, looking around at all the other swinging chairs. It was his idea to go after he told her he’s never been on one before, but now it looked a bit too scary for her.

“Ain’t nothing gonna happen.” He was gruff about it, setting up her bear in the seat so it wouldn’t fall before sliding in the middle, throwing an arm on the back of her chair to wrap around her shoulders. As soon as their door closed the employee pulled the lever to let the ride start, her breath hitching in her chest as it moved mechanically.

“Are you just not afraid of anything?” She asked, not knowing if it was rhetorical or not as the wheel began turning, slowly bringing them higher and higher. She could only stare down at her toes as they got further from the ground.

“What’s there to be afraid of?” Playfully, he rocked her by her shoulders to pull her away from fearfully looking at the floor. Getting her attention to focus on him instead, he figured getting her talking would get her to stop gripping the railing with white knuckles.

“Well for starters, how high up we are.” Her deadpan expression made him chuckle, laying back cool as could be once the ride stopped them at the very top, the world looking much prettier when you could see all the glowing lights in the distance.

“How can I be scared right now?” Ony truly was content, a man who had nothing to fear, only things to desire. Not for more things like money or a new car, he already had all that. He’s craving for something real, someone to share his life with, even someone who he could lean on too.

“I’m always scared,” Her voice was shaky as she tried to close her eyes and relax, vulnerable as she poured her heart out, getting it off her chest. “I think it’s just easier when you’re around though.” Their hands interlocking, his squeezing hers reassuringly at her admission. Just sitting for a second to look at the city from so high up, the breeze flying in their faces making her nose cold.

“Y’don’t have to be scared. I’ll be here, no matter what.” How could he not, stuck in a trance from her beautiful face. Bouncing between her round eyes, fluttering lashes covering the brown, then sliding to her cute button nose, and full pink lips. Committing each detail to memory, counting each beauty mark as her hair blew back in the wind.

“No matter what?” He nodded with determination, no empty promise in sight when they were at the top of the Ferris wheel, just the two of them together and their unwavering bond. “Just… promise me. Promise that you’ll tell me if it’s too much. If I’m too much.” She asked him, fear lacing her tone, afraid to be the one to ruin this for herself, to ruin them already. He didn’t give her the chance to allow the thought to take over, ducking his face down as he slid closer.

“You’ll never be too much. Just right to me.” He whispered, just to her, leaning over to kiss her, cupping the side of her face to keep them close as he groaned from her eagerness to kiss him back. This is what he’d been missing, his mouth moving with hers in sync, allowing those walls to come crumbling down. Hungry for it, craving the affection that being with one another provided, so caught up in their intimate moment to notice that the ride was descending until they were almost to the bottom.

Milana pulled away first, blinking up at him with her shy little smile as Ony’s fingers danced across her cheek, allowing him to lean down and press one last kiss to her lips before they stepped off. Holding each other as they walked back to his car, her head resting on his shoulder the entire way as he led them back to his car, both unable to stop laughing from how much fun they had just being together the entire weekend. She couldn’t even stare at anything else besides him the entire way, going down the highway at night but Ony still managed to shine brighter than the moon beaming down at them. His handsomeness was distracting enough, but getting to know him personally, in a way that most people don’t, was the icing on the cake in her eyes.

They just couldn’t let each other go, she was practically tripping over her feet trying to pull him by his heavy arm. Ony trailing behind, enjoying her more assertive side as she got him to come into her apartment rather easily. To be honest, she could’ve asked him anything and he would’ve done it in a heartbeat right now, too happy making this night perfect for her. The lights dim as they flopped down onto her couch, still reeling from all the excitement. “I can’t believe we just went on a date.” She sighed happily, tossing off her sandals as she faced him, seeing how he couldn’t seem to take his eyes off of her.

“Really? Thought it was only a matter of time.” He didn’t like feeling far away from her, hand itching to reach out, his willpower getting lower and lower. Grabbing her by the waist, an abundance of giggles rained out as she wiggled in his arms until he settled her down on his leg again, just like he’d done at the club.

They took a moment to take each other in, Milana shifting to sling her other leg over his body, unintentionally sitting flush on his thigh, but too wrapped up in how good it felt being close to him to notice. Shifting up to lean in, he cupped the side of her face, tender as he pulled her in to kiss her, a quick peck that had her slowly melting into him. Her hips moving to get closer until an unfamiliar feeling shot through her, making her go stiff in his hands. “What’s wrong?”

She didn’t know at first, mind still trying to register the arousal that she felt pooling deep within, hands falling onto his shoulders as she unsurely ground down again. Call it virgin curiosity, but she couldn’t stop exploring after her first taste of pleasure. Her head spinning with confusing sensations, the heaviness of passion weighing her down to roll back and forth on his thigh another time until her eyes shifted up and saw his expression. Blank with disbelief, mouth agape as he watched her move, kick starting her into stopping her movement to explain herself.

“Sorry! I’m so sorry-I don’t-” Ony snatched her up in an instant, grabbing her by the hips to pull her into riding his thigh again. She never expected that, hands staying up in the air out of pure shock before he pulled them down, urging her to touch him back. Milana did so as she whimpered, trying to keep up with the way he was moving her.

“I tried.” He grunted, his body working with fervor as he helped her grind, eyes shut tight as he felt himself quickly hardening, his thigh tensing underneath her. “I really fucking tried, but I need you.” Big and burly arms locked tightly around her as he breathed her in, mind going fuzzy as he tuned out entirely, letting his actions speak for him. Adrenaline was pumping through them, hands gripping at each other, desperate to touch, feel, see everything they could. Everywhere her fingers grazed left him yearning for more, the realization that he’d been craving for this his entire life felt like cold water splashing over his heated skin. Too used to floating in and out of people’s lives to get the touch that he needed, the touch that only she seemed to provide, practically thriving after starving for it.

“You’re alright, Mama.” He reassured, hands sliding under her dress, Milana was spooked at first by the touch, but was relaxed down by his calming strokes. They moved so easily, bunching up her dress until it rose around her hips to give him more access to her, kisses trailed along her collarbone to keep her from retreating into her head.

He began moving upward, skimming her throat as his mind went blank, the only thing he could tangibly string together was her name over and over in his mind. Her hair, her voice, her scent, it made him feel dizzy just thinking about it, a burning feeling of greed taking over any rational thought. He needed her badly, running hot as he finally made it to her face, opening his eyes to meet hers as he pressed forward, taking her by surprise as he lowered her down slow into his lap, feeling her nearly bare skin meet his jeans.

Her mouth dropped open in the neediest moan he’d ever heard, long and whiney, eyes rolling to the back of her head as they closed. The expression was just too good, making his dick jump as he sat up, clutching her hips desperately. “Fuck, Milana.” He groaned out, slightly shifting to get her adjusted, quickly needing her to feel him too. “Don’t do that shit, Baby. Gonna stop my fucking heart.”

She couldn’t say anything, too busy trying to stop herself from shaking as Ony began moving her up and down his groin over his pants. Rocking her hips faster, steadier, with so much effort she almost thought they were actually having sex. The image made her knees try to close together, his hands shifting to grip under her thighs, forcing them open as he grunted curses in her ear.

Milana couldn’t stop herself from moving, like she was lit with fire for the first time, throwing her arms around Ony’s neck to clutch him closer. “Need me, Mama, don’t you?” Nodding and unable to hide small moans from escaping her, their lips met again, noisy and echoing around the room. She was so damp, Ony was starting to see her show up on his jeans, having to look away before he embarrassed himself in front of this girl.

“Fuck,” He cursed when her nails ran down the nape of his neck, his hips lifting off the couch to put force behind the thrusts he was giving her. Ony’s hands curving down to grip her ass, hissing as her clit caught perfectly over his bulge, pulling her all the way up, up, up, then back down until she felt like she was fraying at the seams. “Stay with me, Baby.” He urged, but her mind was too cloudy to sense that unfamiliar feeling at first, too busy asking the Lord to forgive her for praying to lose her virginity after a first date. Thoughts turning to mush before they could form and soon she found herself stuck in the feeling that she was going to burst.

Then her stomach wound tighter, eyes snapping open in panic as she felt a mix of emotions, wanting to go faster and run away from the feeling all at once. Tingles crawled up her body from her toes, moving with vigor to heighten the pressure as it all rushed to her head. Her hips trying to jump away from his, squealing as she tried to stop her impending orgasm before it made her lose control, hands pressing into his chest to push away.

“Gonna cum, Mama?” Calling Milana back as he forced her to sit flush down on him again. He was asking like he already knew that, and when she tried looking at him through teary eyes she was taken aback at the hungry glint in them. “Yeah, gonna make a fucking mess. Let that shit happen, ‘want you to soak my face after.”

Milana’s mouth dropped open, whining out as she clutched onto him, thrown headfirst into an orgasm she never expected. It felt like free falling right into his waiting arms, where he could bring her more pleasure than she ever thought possible, without even having to touch her. His kisses trailed from her jaw down her neck, toes curling and eyes watering in bliss as she tried to catch her breath. He let her settle slightly, then flipped them both over to lay her on the couch. Her head lying on the armrest as Milana looked at her ceiling, body sagging into the cushions while Ony took her legs and threw them over his shoulders.

“Damn, that was good, Baby. So fucking good. Gonna have you do that on my mouth then around me next, Mama.” He rambled out, planting long appreciative kisses over her inner thighs, getting closer and closer to her covered pussy. His head dipping down to press his lips right against her, surprised at how she shrieked and pushed herself up slightly to see him, eyebrow raising as he stopped to make sure she was alright. To be fair, she didn’t expect them to still keep going, not with how worn out she felt either.

“Uhh… Ony… think I should-probably should tell you some-something…” Her chest was still rising and falling rapidly, whole body thrown off kilter in a sensitive state that had her scrambling while trying to find her bearings. He nodded for her to continue, rubbing circles into her skin when he saw how she was still coming down into reality, thinking she was just a bit delicate in the moment. “I just never- that was my first time so-”

“What?” Ony practically threw himself off of her, legs falling off his body as he moved to sit across from her, a rush of indecipherable emotions written all over him. The sudden loss of touch made her feel a lot more hurt than he intended, but he was honestly so blindsided by her confession that he thought his heart stopped. “Are you saying that you're…” God, it all made sense now, why she was so nervous all the time, shying away from any hint of intimacy, why didn't he see it sooner? “Fuck, Milana.”

His head dropped into his hands, groaning out in an unmistakable tone of frustration as he sobered up, her stomach twisting in a not-so-pleasurable way after that. Once again, her big mouth strikes again, opening it just when things were going so well. Why did she have to stop him, why did that knawing feeling in the back of her mind have to tell her that they might've been moving too fast? Her face dropping with so much disappointment as she tried not to get weepy. “I’m sorry…” Voice tinged with pain as a hand rubbed at the corner of her eyes.

Ony didn't miss the way she sounded, head picking up to jump into action, pulling her back into him, tucked in his side. “Shit-No, Baby. I'm not upset with you. I'm mad at my damn self, should've known better than to be trying to push all up on you like that.” He explained, trying to blanket her with as much comfort as he could, hand a bit frantic as it moved up and down her back. “Fuck, shouldn’t have done that, it wasn't right. I just don't want to take advantage of you, Mama.”

His mind was rushed with guilt, feeling like he just pushed her too hard and definitely way too fast. A bad feeling erupting inside, thinking that he'd been too selfish in the moment, using his second head instead of the one resting on his shoulders. “Don't say that.” She mumbled, her sniffling getting quieter as she saw how upset he was. “I wanted to do that with you, I just didn't think you'd even like me.”

“What?” After all that he thought she'd at least realize he liked her little stubborn behind. “Of course I fucking like you. I don't take girls out and shit, did that ‘cause I want you to be mine.” He admitted it so truthfully, that it shocked her to the core, the revelation swaddling her in the tenderness of his words.

“Really?” Milana felt it, she really did this time. Her eyes were getting watery all over again as it came over her in waves, feeling just as good as his touch was.

“Yes, Milana. I really want you.” Ony felt a rush of relief, his body sagging down to lean against hers too, just needing to hold her for a while. They laid down together, arms wrapping around to hold each other with soothing light touches, side by side facing each other on her little sofa. Her hands sliding to cup his face as he buried his face in her neck, practically laying on top of him to make room, but it was the most comfortable she’d ever been. They would have a lot to talk about soon; her fears, his tough shell, their shared desires, but both were certain that together, it’d be alright.

Hello Everyone! Thank you for being so patient and for supporting my story! I can't believe Milana and Ony already had their first date! It only gets better from here for them, so keep tuning in to read! xoxo - Bow 🎀

Taglist:

@kxllanxtdoor

@rintcrous

@blackgirlmagicforever

@hidd3nbimbo

[biancadoes1]

Hi,

First off, thank you for posting my post. Organized Anon. I never thought people would care what I had to write, just had to get that off my chest and I love a good list lol. I guess, I have more so here is part 2. Lol

Today will be the Wild West west for Lukolas. I see people sending in post that are all over the place.

I myself am not a lukola -per se. I love Nic and Luke. I would love if they dated. But I like to remain neutral. I find it is the best for me. For me.

I am seeing posts saying Nic and Luke are beefing bc he did not post for her bday and she has not liked her post. My advice is to not engage with people who think Nic is dating Jake. It is a waste of time. You could have ET standing next to you saying aliens are real and they still will not believe you. It doesn’t matter about posts talking about the meaning of sweet one, they will not listen. The only thing to prove a jakola wrong is to let them use their brain. Trust me, if you ask question that requires thinking, in a respectful way, they will not know how to respond or what to do.

again, saying Nic is with JD bc she went to his premiere is childish. Saying she is mad with Luke and she has been showing JD off since Luke went to Rome is childish. Saying there is beef between them is childish. yes, I am even calling so called Lukolas on this site out who are agreeing with things.

there is nothing we can say to prove or show. But again, ask yourself those key questions.. if she is dating Jake and they have been out an about all this time, why not just post or tag that is who she was with in her photo. Nic has a brain and smart. We know they went to the WT movie together and we know they spend time together so why not post or tag him- and she might later do this- but why be public with JD on certain days and private with him on other days- makes no sense. No logical sense. People already think they date, so why hide him on the bday post. -Because his is most likely isnt dating him. This is just from rational thinking.

again, think rationally. Why would two adults- who play a beloved fan favorite of Polin be beefing and put in on SM for the world to think so. It’s bad for the product. Look at the Amazon show, culpa tuya. The leads are apparently beefing and yea people are talking but Polin is a different type of love story. Shonda would not let dirty laundry out so stop with the beefing theory. People sound like children. And these are grown adult women. Stop thinking that people are vindictive and want to manipulate others. Go seek therapy and figure out why toxicity is a driving force in your life. If Nic was beefing, why is Luke all over her end of year dump. His photo is on the back of her phone. At the least, they are besties.

now the million dollar question- why did he post for Claudia Bday and not Nic. There are only two possible reasons. A. JD is her man and he did not want to take away from JD on her special day. OR B. Luke is her man or her and Luke are getting close and decided to make it private - no attention. I believe the latter based on rational clues. Extra extra eyes were on them this year. Commenting on her SAG post was loud but not posting is louder. Personal stays private.

Could I be wrong yes- lol. But I’ll leave with this. If Nic is dating JD, you will have people saying she trolled the fandom. And if you are being honest, it can be seen that way. Posting and not posting jd. Jd trolling as well, saying things like people want me to marry Luke , doing that audiobook. It’s just too much. And she will get push back and fans will leave. I don’t care how nice people think JD is, he is not worth losing fans for. But let’s not think on this. We will cross that bridge, when or a big big big big if we need too. thanks!!!

.

[eph3merall]

⟡ ݁₊ . INTRODUCING . . . ARTIST!MATT X MUSE!WRITER!READER

an. sorryy i couldnt wait to post this. pls dont flop .... pls ...

the pen in your hand accidentally rips the thin piece of paper in your notebook, scoffing under your breath as you quickly scratch out some unintelligible words before writing a little note next to it with your new thoughts. your eyes flick up to scan over the canvas of art on the wall, a scenic painting of a crowded forest experiencing its first snow.

it was a pretty piece of art, no doubt. but you didn't think much of it, you didn't feel your attention getting captured like usual when you find an artwork that really grabs at your brain. your friend is next to you in a second, hearing her mumble an 'ooh' under her breath at the painting hung up in front of them.

"it's pretty, isn't it?" you turn to her with a weird look on your face, shoulders shrugging as you smile sheepishly.

"it's not my favorite.. but yeah. you should write your report on it, i know you like this sort of thing," but your friend is already jotting down various notes and nodding to herself, one of her hands lifting up to shoo you away.

"y'should go down that hall to the left, i saw something i think you'd like."

snaps of cameras and hushed voices surround you as you peer at the canvases hung on the walls. your eyes meet your professors, as he stands to the side to let everyone inspect and make a final decision. you flash him a smile, and he nods at you—prompting you to go and find a piece of artwork you like with a wave of his hand.

you aren't sure what your friend pointed you to, surveying every painting you see after another. nothing really scratches that itch inside your head that aches to be scratched. maybe you just aren't seeing the true beauty that other artists would see, being a writer.

as you keep walking, two paintings hung up beside eachother seem to stand out to you. not only were they both in black and white, what you presume is the artist also stands beside one of them—greeting some of your classmates and flashing a charming smile.

funnily enough, the brunett you're staring at doesn't even look like he would paint, if he even is the artist. he's dressed in baggy denim jeans and a hoodie, the brightest of smiles adorning his face at something a few girls say to him. the corners of his eyes crinkle when he grins, and you cant help but smile to yourself at the sight of him.

but then it hits you that you're staring, and you clear your throat while stalking up to this mysterious guy, watching as he runs a hand through tousled brown hair. the group of your classmates are hurrying off to take more notes, giggling to one another and talking far too loud for an environment like this.

approaching him, you gaze at the paintings first. it would be awkward to come up just to meet the artist, because you're writing about a piece of art, not the person who created it. but, you wouldn't exactly mind writing about him either. he's sweet looking—nonchalant but in the sense that you can feel he has hidden energy that comes out with close ones.

your eyes scan across the two paintings, both in monochrome black and white—one canvas showcasing an eye and the other two hands delicately joining together. the little plaque next to it explains the name of the work and the name of the artist, who you read as 'matthew sturniolo'. you jot down some words that popped into your head to describe both pieces of art, then turning to matt.

"these are nice. s'pretty.. you did make these, right?"

he laughs, and you cant help but melt a little at the sound. his eyes are a pretty blue and its even cuter seeing him grin up close. assumptions about matt are already forming in your mind, like how you believe hes the type of guy to laugh at everything. he doesnt seem too professional like the other artists you've encountered, all shaking hands and brief nods. but matt is all loud laughter and bright smiles, yet he doesn't seem overbearing or a push over at all.

"yeah, i did.." and he glances over to his work. you follow his gaze and even manage to find some little details you didn't notice the first time. a few unblended spots of paint that dont make the piece any less appealing, some random spots of darker colors so it isn't all black and white. you scribble down some notes, peering out of the corner of your eye to see matt talking to one of your classmates. and she was being awfully touchy—a hand on his shoulder that trails down his arm while giggling.

with scratchy, hurried handwriting, you jot down your number on the paper and tear it off. when you're sure no one's watching and people aren't crowded around, you turn to the brunett and offer him a soft smile. you hold your hand out with the little slip of paper, tilting your head a little as if saying 'call me?'

matt glances down and takes the slip of slightly crumpled paper, letting it slip into the pocket of his pants with a wink as you turn away.

—

the words dont come to your head easily, sitting in your bed as your fingers hover over the keyboard of your laptop that rests in your lap. you thought this writing assignment would've been one of the easier ones, being both a fan of writing and art. but, your attention is elsewhere, eyes promptly straying to your phone that sits face down on your desk.

you've been eyeing it every five minutes to see if a certain someone would text. and... well, there's been nothing. but, you've learned to give things time. its not like matt is free 24/7, recently learning he went to the same school yet you've just never seen him before. he has classes and work he needs to do anyways.

with fifteen more minutes of typing and deleting everything you put down, a decision is made to put the assignment to rest for tonight. as you're plugging in your device, your phone buzzes and its like a tiger pouncing on a gazelle. blinking at the screen, you read the text from the unknown number.

11:32 pm | unknown caller

'hey? yk who this is baby'

@conspiracy-ash @sturniolosfavkayleigh @lvrsturniolo @st7rnioioss @meatballlover10 @ashlishes @ferdzom @55sturn @chriseatingmeoutin4k @unknvhx @mattslolita @chaossturns @slut4brunettes @starclinexo @slvtf0rchr1s @itsmaddielouis @slut4chris888

an. phone sex at the end whatt who said that

©eph3merall 2024

[thesuperiorrobin]

New Year’s resolution~

Pairing: Damian Wayne x Fem! Reader

Summary: Damian’s stuck with a plan for the next year.

Word count: 1.0k

Warning: none.

He’s got everything set in his head. After your first day a few years back, Damian knew you were the one he wanted to spend his life with, the one to grow old and be buried side by side for all entirety with. The word love was such a foolish thing to hike growing up, it was something he was taught by his mother and grandfather: “Love is a blinding thing and is nothing more than a weakness to all,” and it stuck with him until he met you, both 16 on New Year’s Eve just a few minutes before the time struck midnight—out and about far away from his family.

No lie, Damian Wayne was an angsty teen. At the time, he wanted nothing to do with his rowdy and chaotic family, along with the drunken strangers that seemed to be coming and going through the minor, seeing as his father was throwing yet another charity event. He managed to escape them that night, slipping away through the window and past the gates. Damian takes a stroll around the Gotham streets. The streets are never this quiet, but everybody’s with family, even the night's villains. He can hear the yells and laughter through the thin walls of the building as he passes by, and all he does is roll his eyes and kick a rock down his path.

A figure runs by, and it catches his eye, and as curious as ever, he follows, all that training comes in handy. He makes no sound, footsteps as quiet as ever, and his breathing barely makes a peep. He follows them up the Stoop of a building that leads to the top, hiding himself as he goes unnoticed by the person. That person pulls their hood down, revealing a you, a young woman around his age, their bag is thrown onto the ground as they kneel, unzipping it open to reveal food. Food that was meant for cats.

He watches for a minute, and not long after he hears the faint meows of multiple cats coming out of the shadows, some older and some much younger. They all gathered around the you, happily enjoying the food while some rubbed their heads against your leg.

"You can come out now. I know you're there," you call out, but it doesn't startle Damian. Although he is a bit shocked that you knew he was there, he clears his throat, revealing himself to you as you keep your back turned for a minute before glancing over your shoulder. Your eyes locked in with his green ones briefly before humming and looking away. "What’s the Damian Wayne doing out and about at this time just a few minutes before the new year starts? Shouldn't you be at the charity event?"

"I'm not suited for those things" his voice is quiet, but not quite enough for you to not hear "And you? Shouldn't you be with family at this time, it's almost midnight"

"Nosey are we?" You tease slighting leaving Damian to roll his eyes at you "My parents work with you Dad, so they're at the charity event too"

"They left you behind?"

"No, it was more of I didn't wanna go, big crowds with people I don't even know and pretending to be nice to me aren't my thing" You shrug slightly, and it goes quiet for a second before you look over your shoulder once more "wanna help me feed them? They won't bite"

Damian stays silent, as he moves forward and finds himself kneeling beside the you, the sound of crumpling paper could be heard from underneath. They find warmth, as they cuddle up closer to him, some finding their way in his coat and he lets them. Damian had always had a soft spot for animals. He takes a glance that you, soft smile painted on your lips as you hand feed a baby cat that’s cuddled up in your coat for warmth.

“My name’s y/n by the way” You take a glance at him, catching his staring and he turns his head to the side embarrassingly.

“Y/n….” He repeats, your name rolling off his tongue well, “Well you already know my name” his tone wasn’t cocky, no, it was more of an annoyed one. You hum, glancing down at the newspaper Damian seemed to be kneeling on, and as ironic as ever, his face was plastered on the front with a headline.

“Don’t think I can miss it when your face and name are practically everywhere” you chuckle softly pointing at the paper below him, and as he looks down Damian frowns slightly before glaring back at you.

“How hilarious” rolling his and a comfortable silence falls between the two of them, and it isn’t long before it is disturbed by loud ‘booms’.

Damian’s startled, taking action and going into a fight stance positioned. There wasn’t a single sign of threat anywhere near, just the sudden boom noises repeating over and over.

“Oh look!” You shout, catching his attention as he follows your gaze up in the sky “The fireworks!” The sky’s filled with color—and not the type that turns them red, orange, and yellow but the type that turns them purple, pink, blue, and green. You glance down at your phone, time reading 12:01. “Can’t believe I started the new year with Damian Wayne…” you chuckle, glancing back at him but frowning “Why are you standing like that? You look like you're ready to fight someone”

Damian clears his throat, awkwardly fixing his position as he glances at you with a scowl “This will be the first and last New years we’ll spend together”

“I wasn’t expecting another New Year with you” you shrug “wanna feed the dogs next?”

You two, did in fact, spend the next seven New Years together.

Two as friends and the rest as lovers.

And as the ball drops to the countdown from ten to one, you two share a sweet kiss when everybody wishes one a happy New Year and as you two pull apart, Damian stares at you lovingly as you smile back. The only thought in his head was thinking of ways he was going to propose to you the following year, or maybe he’d do it sooner.

Well…… I'm so late but HAPPY NEW YEARS. This was actually supposed to be posted on the 1st of January but I lost track of time I'm sorry 😭

[ihfmseatsoch]

I NEED DAD CURLY I KNOW U ALR DID THJS BUT FUCK. I’m a slut for curly🥹🩷 fem reader pls

haii sorry this took a hot minute.. im terribly sick -_- but i pushed through for dad curly #priorities. i should mention that the reader is OF LEGAL AGE ! even though they're still in school. they're supposed to be 18 or college age. Okay tyanks 👍🏻

genre: smut

word count: 3.3k

warnings/content: incest, age gap jealous curly, reader is daughterwife maxxing HARD, loss of virginity, inexperienced reader, rough sex, creampie, daddy kink? idk hes your literal daddy so. shrugs

–

Curly wasn't a jealous man.

He was always secure and confident in his relationships, never wanting to come off as an overbearing boyfriend who spit in the direction of any man that looked his partners way. He didn't see his past lovers male friends as competition, in fact, he was more than welcoming towards them.

Which is why he can't identify the feeling twisting in the pit of his gut, one that just felt plain unpleasant, when he saw you hug a boy from your class as you were leaving your schools parking lot. Curly had come to pick you up as he usually does, and he's commonly greeted with a kiss on his cheek or a warm embrace from you immediately.

Not this.

Curly has always been fine with his daughter being friends with boys. He trusted you enough not to do anything stupid, not to make the wrong decisions. You'd never even had a boyfriend before, so it wasn't like the men in your life were always in the back of his mind. So why? Why did he feel so shitty? Protective, even?

What on earth was different about this specific instance that made him feel like he wanted to pull you away and drag you straight to the car?

You finally make your way to the car, opening the passenger side door, plopping yourself in the seat beside him. You lean over to give him one of your usual kisses, right on his scruffy cheek. "Hi, daddy!" You beam, an ear to ear smile plastered on your sweet face.

Your affection does nothing to alleviate the ugly feeling of possessiveness inside of him. The fact that you look oddly chipper right now makes him suspicious. Was it the unnamed kid you were holding so close just moments ago that's making you so cheerful?

Still, he feigns casualness, giving your shoulder a light squeeze as a sign of his own love for you. Curly enjoys the way you still give him the title "daddy", even at your age. He's repressed his own realization that he likes it a little too much. "Hey, sweetheart." His mouth feels strangely dry as he forces a smile. With hesitance and an intense battle with his own common sense, in which his common sense lost, he continues, "So... was that a friend of yours?"

You blink in confusion briefly, before realizing who he's talking about. "Oh, yeah! For about a week, that is. He just moved to town, so I've been showing him around and stuff. He's super nice." Your giggle after you mention how "nice" he is makes him feel even more on edge. He recognizes a crush when he sees one. This isn't good. Not at all. His heart plummets into his stomach, sizzling in its acid.

"Ah. Right." He nods curtly, leaving the conversation at that, as he lost his previous strength to pretend he doesn't feel awful right now. His foot presses down in the gas pedal a little too hard. The car ride is unusually silent. Typically, he'd be asking all about your day right now, what tests you have coming up, how your friends are doing, and you'd talk his ear off about it in return. There's none of that today, besides the hum of the cars engine and the sound of him tapping his fingers against the steering wheel, feeling fidgety.

Curly feels terribly guilty, noticing your confusion at his behavior. He can't blame you, this is the most awkward you two have been with each other. He wants to say something, apologize for his attitude, but his throat swells up whenever he tries to speak. Is this jealousy? The soul crushing feeling he's heard so much about?

But why would he be jealous of his own daughter's relationships? He should be supportive. He should be a good father, push away these maddening negative feelings and talk to you. Physically, he can't find it in him to do that. Everything about this is irrational, he knows it.

You said you'd only known that boy for a week, so why does he feel... afraid? Scared that he'll take his precious girl away from him? Curly can't stomach the idea of you giving your love to some random kid instead of him. The thought that one day you'll give someone else a fraction of the adoration you give him is unbearable. His baby girl wouldn't need her daddy anymore.

Only when you're both halfway to your home is when you decide to speak up, "You okay, Dad? You're acting weird."

Your words ring in his ears deafeningly. How can he even begin to explain himself? He's a shameful excuse of a father. Clearing his dry throat, he utters, "I'm fine, hon. Guess I'm just tired. Pony Express has been kickin' me in the ass more than usual." Curly manages to come up with a lie on the spot. He feels even worse for lying to you.

The loving concern etched in your face at his fake excuse makes his heart hurt. Now he's made you feel bad for him. God, what is wrong with him today? He must really be losing it. This midlife crisis shit is no joke.

"You should take more breaks, daddy. I don't like you being a workaholic all the time." Your hand moves to tenderly rub his tense shoulder, his skin tingling with goosebumps from the contact.

Swallowing, he responds, "I know, I know," with a sigh, he runs a hand through his wavy blonde curls, some of the strands turning grey in his old age, which he tries to ignore when he looks in the mirror. "Overworking myself is just part of the job, babydoll." Curly holds back a frustrated eye roll at Pony Express's mistreatment. Maybe he was more stressed than he thought. Maybe that's why he's behaving like this today. Nothing more. Right?

"I still don't like it," You say with a shake of your head, aware of how corrupt the company your father works for really is. "I'll tie you to the couch if I have to, if it gets you to relax."

Curly knows you're joking, but for some reason, the faux threat sounds suggestive to him. His thoughts quickly become inappropriate. He can't help but think about how he would feel... completely at your mercy, restrained, utterly submissive. "Mm, that'll be the day." He replies, trying to inject his usual humor in his sentence, shooting you a soft smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes, showing off his subtle tooth gap, one of his teeth a little crooked in a cute, boyish way.

After he pulls into your driveway and you two hop out, you walk as close as you can to him, holding onto his arm, holding back from feeling up his muscles. That'd just throw you into a whirlwind of inner conflict.

"I'm serious, though." You continue onto your previous conversation. "You'd better not do anything but relax tonight, or you're gonna hear it from me." It's amusing how much you sound like you're his wife, making demands like that. It feels... oddly nice to him, to imagine you playing that roll. You already do, in a way, with how you consistently fuss over and take care of him. "Yes ma'am," he lets out a short chuckle, his smile genuine this time, "I'll be good. Promise."

And he doesn't break his promise, mainly because you absolutely don't let him. He thought of sneaking off, making a few important phone calls, but you keep an intimidating eagles eye on him. It's endearing how much you care. Any lingering traces of his earlier jealousy are nearly gone, that stupid kid long forgotten. He knows that he's the most important man in your life. He always will be. It was silly to think you'd ever leave him. He's your daddy, you'd always be his.

You cook him dinner as he leans back in the couch, the stress melting from his weary bones, the weight of his responsibilities nonexistent tonight. This is bliss, Curly thinks. His sweet little girl doting on him, making his favorite meal while he doesn't have to lift a finger for once. Maybe this is what he truly wants out of life. Domesticity. Not having to worry about a thing except being pampered.

You make two plates of food, one for you, and one for your beloved father. You curl up on the couch beside him, resting your head on his broad shoulder as you eat dinner together. The atmosphere is more peaceful than Curly's felt in a long, long time. His heart swells with love and gratitude for you, for the lengths you go to just to make him happy.

What did he do to deserve a daughter so perfect? So beautiful, sweet, and kind? He could go on and on with endless praise for you. Curly wraps one arm around your shoulder, leaning down to give you a gentle kiss on the top of your head. "Thank you, sweetheart," he mumbles into your hair, "You're too good to me."

"Nothing's too good for you, daddy." You give him a kiss right below his ear in return. "I love you. Just wanna take care of you."

The simple act of endearment has his face heating up, the butterflies in his chest fluttering wildly. Pull yourself together, Grant, he tells himself firmly. He's just pent up. Hasn't been with a woman in... he doesn't know how long. And since he doesn't do hookups, preferring something more meaningful, he's been stuck with his own, lonely hand. Curly has to clear his throat to find his voice, "I– love you too, honey."

You two are still cuddled up on the couch, long after you finish eating. Curly's mindlessly watching a cooking show, in which a woman only seasons her chicken with salt and pepper. Thankfully, your body pressed to his is distracting him enough that he doesn't grimace imagining the plain flavor.

He knows he's disgusting, pathetic, in fact, for being so flustered right now. As he slowly rubs circles on your back, he can't help but think how good your form feels in his hands, soft and warm. It's like he's a hormone-ridden teenage boy, except in reality, he's your dad, and you're his own flesh and blood.

Against his better judgement, Curly's hand trails down to your hip, giving it a light squeeze, as if to test the waters on how far he could go. You don't react negatively, only cuddling closer to him. What the hell is he doing? He mentally screams at himself to stop. Stop thinking about how much smaller you look against his large frame, how easy it would be to pick you up, or push you down, your pretty eyes wide and staring up at him as he towers over you, hunched over your body–

He's hard. And, officially, a sick fuck.

Curly desperately hopes you don't notice the tent in his pants, he prays to whatever's out there that you don't look down, please, don't notice how perverted he is. You'd never forgive him, he's sure. You'd never look at him the same. He crosses his legs, a pathetic attempt to hide his rigid cock.

It comes to a point where the discomfort in his groin and the lust burning his insides becomes too much it bear. Taking in a shallow breath, he finally decides on doing the unthinkable. "Hey... Sweetheart?" Curly sounds uncertain in himself, his confidence teetering on a thin tightrope. You turn your head to him, ever so trusting.

"Yeah?" You say, wondering why his body is so taut all of a sudden, and why his index and thumb is fiddling with the hem of your shirt. He struggles to look you in the eye as he continues, "Can... Can I ask you for one more thing?" His heart thumps in his throat.

You nod, always willing to satisfy his every whim. He's given you the best life he possibly could, you owe him everything in return, don't you? "Of course," You smile, "Anything."

That innocent look in your eyes only makes him feel guiltier. Curly stays quiet for a few seconds, just contemplating if he's really about to do this, if he's really willing to possibly ruin your relationship forever. His hand moves up to cup your cheek. God, it's practically bigger than your face, he notices. Baby blue eyes get lost in the sight of your lips, making him swallow from sheer temptation as he inches closer to you.

It takes your brain a moment to process what's happening, and when it does, strangely enough, you don't pull away. If this is what he needs, why would you deny him? He's your dad, the person you trust the most in the world. He wouldn't do anything that could hurt you. He bites back whatever self-control he has left, pressing his lips to yours, soft and experimental. The biggest spark he's ever felt ignites in his chest, your lips feel unlike any other woman's he's ever kissed. You're perfect.

You can't say you haven't thought about this. You've always found your dad handsome, and charming; more than the average daughter would. You've never kissed a boy before, and you're more than ecstatic that Curly is your first. You link your arms around his neck to pull him in closer, deepening the kiss, desire building up in your abdomen embarrassingly quick.

His hand gravitate towards your waist on instinct, the kiss which was originally sweet and tender turning into a full-on make out session. You let out a quiet whimper at the intensity of it all, his cock twitching in his pants at the cute sound. Fuck, he's never wanted anyone like this before, so ravenously. Curly makes himself pull away for air, too far gone to feel any semblance of guilt anymore, especially when you're looking at him so eagerly. You want this too. There's nothing to feel bad about.

"Is this okay, honey?" He breathes, chest heaving as he pants. "You alright with this?"

You nod silently, unable to find any words to say in your aroused state, your body overwhelmingly hot all of a sudden. That's all the consent he needs from you in order to lay you on your back, peeling off every article of your clothing with delicate care, marvelling at your bare figure under him.

You feel incredibly shy having him see you like this, covering your breasts with your hands, pressing your thighs together. "No, no. Don't do that, baby." he cooes, gently coaxing you to reveal yourself to him again, much stronger hands spreading your legs apart so he can get a good look at your cunt, glistening with slick. Knowing that he was the one who made you this wet so easily elicits a low groan from him.

"Look at you," he murmurs, sighing shakily at the very sight of you, "Dripping wet, just for your daddy." You whine as he runs his thumb along your slit, stopping at your puffy clit so he can rub the sensitive nerve in slow circles, his experienced hands making you gasp in surprise. A rough palm reaches up to gingerly fondle one of your tits, your father peering intently down at you from above.

"Fuck, you're so beautiful," he sighs, like he's in awe, "You know that? Such a pretty girl. Always have been." He pulls his sweats down just enough for his dick to spring free, and he hisses at the sudden rush of cool air against his tepid shaft, tip flushed red. Your eyes widen at its size. Massive, is once way to describe it. A thick vein runs down his length, pulsing with warm blood. Curly notices the intimidated expression on your face, and he presses a soothing kiss to your forehead. "I'll go slow. Don't wanna hurt you. S' gonna be okay, babygirl."

His tone is as consolatory as ever, and you can't help but believe him. Why shouldn't you?

It stings when he prods the head into your untouched, virgin hole, the ache worsening as he pushes in further. "D– Dad–" you whimper, eyes brimming with tears of pain, "It's not gonna fit, it hurts–" Curly shushes you, stroking your hair back to calm you down. "I know, I know, baby. It'll go away, I promise." His breathing stutters, a stifled moan erupting from his chest, your walls gripping him tighter than any pussy he's ever felt in his life.

When he's fully inside you, he tries his hardest to restrain himself and be gentle, lightly panting, his sweaty forehead pressed against yours as he thrusts cautiously, paying close attention to every nosie you make so he knows you're feeling good. "Takin' me so well, honey," he grunts, "Y' feel that? You're taking daddy so deep." He presses his hand to your stomach, where you can feel his cock prodding against your insides.

Your little whines and moans at every thrust inside you don't help his quickly diminishing willpower to keep your first time nice and gentle. He wants to be careful with his baby girl, he truly does, but you sound so fucking cute when he goes just a little harder, making you squeak in surprise.

You really can't blame him for ending up with your legs hanging limp on his shoulders, pushing them back so his cock can hit all the right angles, making your pussy clench and squeeze around him so tight, it only encourages him to fuck you as rough as you can take it. Your slick runs all the way down to your ass, his his balls making a wet slapping sound every time he rams into it.

"Dad– Daddy–" is all you can mewl, breathless, your brain short-circuiting from pleasure, practically going dumb from his cock. "Yeah?" Curly grins, relishing in the effect he has on you, "Daddy's making you feel so good, isn't he?" All you can do is nod stupidly at his question, eyes rolling to the back of your head. You abdomen pulsates with warmth, an unfamiliar tingling washing over your body.

"I f– feel weird." You tell him with a trembling whimper. "You're alright, just means you're close." Curly reassures you, simply. "Daddy wants to see you cum for him, honey. Don't hold back."

It doesn't take long for the build up tension inside of you to burst, your back arching as complete euphoria coarses through every inch of your body, a gutteral moan escaping your lips. "There we go, that's my girl," Curly croons, "Cum all over daddy's cock. You look so gorgeous right now, sweetheart."

Due to his age, he takes a little longer to get close to his own orgasm, continuing to fuck you through your overwhelming sensitivity. "M' almost there," he rasps, his head moving down to rest in the nape of your neck, leaving a trail of kisses along your flushed skin, "Nngh– gonna fill you up, baby– you want that? Want dad's cum inside of you?"

Your hazy state of mind makes it difficult to consider the risks, so you nod, agreeing to whatever he says.

"God, fuck– I love you, I love you, I love you–" he babbles, and with a throaty groan through clenched teeth, he spills his release inside of you, the warm and gooey substance filling your hole to the brim. Curly's legs give out, causing him to collapse on top of you, his broad chest pressed to yours, his body hair tickling your skin lightly.

When he finally catches his breath, he pulls out, and grabs a warm cloth to wipe away the cum that seeps from your hole. "You alright? Didn't hurt you or anything, yeah?" He asks, genuinely concerned, and a little guilty for not being able to hold himself back. "I'm fine..." You mumble, exhausted, "Just a little sore."

"M' sorry, sweet pea." Curly gives you a kiss on the cheek, as if it'll make everything all better. To be honest, it does help a little. So does his meticulous aftercare, and his cuddles.

You don't really want to think about the future consequences of your father cumming inside of you right now.

–

[supernotnatural2005]

A Welcomed Distraction

Parings: Dean x Reader

Word count: 1.5k

Summary: Torn between assisting the brother's coping mechanisms admits Chuck's warpath, Dean is quick to remind you who's the right choice.

Warnings: Fluff, Clingy Dean, Smutty themes (18+ ONLY!!)

AN: Just a little something that had been a WIP and finally got round to finishing lol 😅 i hope you all enjoy!

Masterlist

“Hey, Y/N/N’s!”

You come to a halt a few steps past Dean’s room at the sound of him calling out to you. You backtrack the couple of steps you’d taken and push his half-closed door fully open, smirking in amusement at the sight before you.  Dean is sprawled out on his front on the bed, his body propped up by his pillows, facing the TV you’d helped set up for him a few months ago.“What’s up?” You ask, glancing with a raised brow between him and the TV, which released a bloodcurdling scream.  “Hatchet Man marathon.” He explains with a chuckle, and you make a sound of disgust, accompanied by an eye roll.  “Hey, don’t crap on Hatchet man. It’s a classic.”  “Halloween, A Nightmare on Elm Street, and The Texas Chainsaw Massacre are classics.” You reel off with a count of your fingers. “Don’t taint good cinema horror with Hatchet man.” You mockingly scold, making him look even more offended.“Now what did you want, Winchester?” You ask with a hand on your hip. 

You’d already promised Sam you’d help him with research on finding something to kill God with. Yeah, your already complicated life had become even more messy.Whereas Sam scoured the internet and rummaged through the dusty archives looking for a way to stop God and his genocidal warpath on mankind, Dean had taken a completely different approach and sunk into a kind of defeated depression. So it had been up to you to help the younger Winchester, as of late.  However, you felt torn in half trying to appease both of them. Between helping Sam with research and making sure your boyfriend didn’t drink himself to death, you were exhausted.  “Not your hostility, that’s for sure.” Dean huffs, though there is a slight smirk on his lips. You chuckle and walk further into the room, coming to stand at the foot of his bed. “Fancy joining? And before you say no, I’ll even be nice and let you pick something else.” He interrupts you before you could protest.You almost cave at the hopeful look on his stupidly handsome face. Instead you sigh, more so in remorse because you’d rather do nothing more. 

“I can’t. I promised your brother I’d help him with research.” You tell him guiltily, and he lets out a huff.

“You two are always researching lately; is there something more going on there that I should know about?”  Instead of dignifying that hideous accusation with an answer, you lean down to smack his arm, which was a rookie mistake as he anticipates your attack and pulls you down onto the bed with him instead. You yelp in surprise and grunt at the impact, but before you can react, his lips are pressing to yours. 

Your surprised squeak is drowned out by the soft press of his pillowy lips, and by default, your eyes flutter shut as you lose yourself in the feeling. With his large palm framing your cheek, fingers nestled deeply into your newly mused locks, he pulls away to stare down at you with a cheeky grin.

“You’re an asshole.” You mutter, albeit a little breathlessly, realising his intentions. Laughter erupts from Dean, laughter you hadn’t heard in a while, and you can’t help the fond smile upon hearing the sweet sound.

“You know I’m kidding. I appreciate you trying to be there for the both of us.” He admits honestly, a more adoring look crossing his features as his thumb gently glides back and forth across your cheekbone. Your hand slides up to join his on your cheek, and you smile lovingly up at him.  “I just wish he didn’t hog you so much.” He murmurs as he makes his descent to kiss at your jaw, your neck, taking his time to nibble and suck at your sweet spot when you can’t help but sigh in pleasure. Your hands automatically slide up his neck and into his hair, grasping onto the soft strands as his warm tongue glides over your pulse point, making you shiver.  “Didn’t peg you as the clingy type, Winchester.” You tease, though it comes out more of a moan as his lips and teeth tug at your earlobe, setting your nerve endings alight. You arch up into him, desperately craving friction against your rapidly dampening core. Dean pulls away then and grins down at you. 

“I could say the same thing about you, sweetheart.”

“Shut up.” You mumble before pulling him down by the collar of his shirt, claiming his lips in a heated kiss, too desperate to tease anymore. Dean quickly melts into it, moaning as your tongue slips past his lips. He secretly loved it when you got desperate and clingy; it only fuelled his desire. He nudges your legs apart and nestles comfortably between them, experimentally rolling his hips and making you gasp and break away from his mouth. Your hands slide down his toned, solid back toward his perky ass, and with a cheeky smile of your own and with a firm grasp, you pull his hips back into yours again. Both of you groaning at the friction this time. 

Dean begins a steady roll of his hips and leans down to claim your lips again, this time more insistent and devouring, leaving your lungs burning and core pulsing with desire. You moan into the kiss at the feel of his hand slipping under your top, his exploration purposeful and intentional on its ascent. His deft fingers slip under the cup of your bra, and he takes your full breast in his large palm, massaging the tender flesh as his lips begin trailing across your jaw and down the length of your neck. 

Your fingers are quick to slip into his neatly styled spikes, musing them in every which way as he sucks at your sweet spot. You sigh and thrust your hips up into his, feeling the solid length of him straining against his zipper. The friction between your bodies is both not enough but also just right. 

“Shit.” You moan, so lost in the feeling of him, you hadn’t realised his lips had navigated to your exposed breast until he was sucking the perked bud into his mouth. His tongue is warm and wet as it swirls around your nipple, the sensation shooting straight to your cunt. As if he knew what you needed, because of course he did. Dean knew your body as well as he knew his beloved Baby. He’d worked on you comparably more and just as thoroughly. His free hand quickly unbuttons your jeans before his long, thick digits slip under both fabrics, all the while his mouth remains latched to your chest. 

You release the longest sigh of relief as soon as his digits make contact with your throbbing clit. His deep groan of approval at the dampness he discovers there, sending shivers down your spine. 

“Fuck. You’re soaked, baby.” Dean praises as he rises on his elbow, hovering above you as his fingers begin to circle your bundle of nerves. You keen at the feeling, your hips rising on their own accord, pressing further into his hand to seek more. 

Dean smirks pridefully, but lust burns in his gaze as he watches what his touch does to you. The sweet sounds he pulls from you, all of it shooting straight to his cock. You rise up and claim his lips once more just as his middle finger dips into your soaked hole. Your hips roll in a steady rhythm, your clit brushing his palm with each movement, setting your nerve endings on fire. 

It still astonished you how quickly Dean could have you crumbling in a matter of seconds. His mouth, his touch, his attention direly distracting. It was both a gift and a curse. For instance, you had completely forgotten what it was you were supposed to be doing before you had entered his room. That is until that reason walked in.  “Y/N? You in he—oh, whoa! Sam exclaims and quickly turns away from the compromising position you and Dean were in.  “Shit.” You mutter and shuffle from under Dean, who takes the hint and shifts his weight off of you. “Sam, I’m sorry. I was coming.” You shoot Dean a look at his snicker at your poor choice of words, and he quickly silences. “Your brother is a menace.” You add pointedly for payback.

“Hey!” Dean complains, not appreciating your name-calling. You ignore him and quickly right yourself and fix your askew clothing just as Sam wearily peeks over his shoulder, fully turning around when he sees you both had separated and were less dishevelled.

“Actually, I was just coming to tell you not to worry now. Elaine is free tonight.” Sam explains and gives you an uncomfortable smile.  “Oh.” Is all you can form and meet Dean’s enlightened expression at the news?

“Well, that’s great, Sam.” Dean begins and rises from his spot on the bed. “Tell Elaine we said hi.” He adds with a wide grin as he wraps his arms around you and begins tugging you back towards the bed.

“Uh, yeah, sure.” Sam stumbles and quickly evacuates the room just as you let out a squeal and the sound of the bed-frame creaking under the sudden weight of you both. Sam was quick to make his exit before any other noises, more scarring, traumatising ones, spilt from his brother's room.

AN: I hope you guys enjoy this little spicy once shot! 😜 Again I have a habit of making poor Sam the unintentional cockblock lol 😂 But I'm just going through all my WIP's (there's a lot 😅) and finally finish them. But let me know what you think! And I hope you enjoy.

[isadralvs]

STARGAZING. 'elphaba thropp x fem!reader.

WARNINGS. / smut, fingering, eating it, toys, etc.

why. the only word in elphaba's mind. she was so sick and tired of everything and everyone - except for you. you were the only person she trusted anymore, since you were the only person who didn't see her as the wicked witch, but as elphaba. that meant everything to her.

the day you agreed to come with her, was the day she knew she loved you, and she made sure you knew. she was always giving you flowers, soft kisses, whispering sweet nothings into your ear while rubbing you're back. she truly treasured you like a trophy that she won.

she was currently sitting on the stairs of the castle of kiamo ko, thinking about everything.

she sighed to herself and got up and went to where she had made a bedroom for the two of you, tilting her head as she saw you brushing you're hair. beautiful, she thought to herself. you truly were. she came behind you, wrapping her arms around you're waist, and her chin on you're shoulder, placing soft kisses on you're neck.

you smiled as you felt that. "you okay, elphie?" you asked the girl, so soft and delicately. "mhm.. of course, baby,'" she murmured against you're neck as she smirked slightly. "you look beautiful."

it felt like she was star gazing, it truly did. you were so beautiful.

"oh, elphie. you say that everyday." you laughed softly, and to her, it sounded like angels in human form.

"mhm... and i will mean it every time i say it." she whispered as she turned you around to face her. "so beautiful... you know what would make you more beautiful?" she whispered with a smirk on her green lips. "seeing you all needy and desperate for me."

with that, she yanked you to the bed, her muscular arms gripping you're waist as she crawled on top of you, a certain need in her eyes. she slowly took you're clothes off, immediately touching everywhere she could, seeing the bra and underwear made her moan to herself as her hand went down to your clothed entrance, seeing that you were already drenched. now THAT set her off.

she unclipped you're bra effortlessly, her hand cupping one while her mouth went to the other, making you moan and close you're eyes. she noticed and kissed down, ever so slowly. when she made it down, she pulled your underwear down easily, tossing them aside, not hesitating to let her finger go through those sweet wet folds.

you moaned softly, you're body jerked at the feeling. "oh elphie... please don't tease." you whined out, as she chuckled. "since you asked so nice..." she slid a single finger in, moaning at how you clenched around it, as she thrusted her finger slowly, before adding another, pumping the in and out a bit faster.

you moaned louder as you tossed you're head back against the pillow, gripping her dark braids, whimpering out a small "go faster."

she didn't hesitate to listen, going faster as her mouth attached to you're clit for more stimulation, making you're back arch and making you moan out even louder. she moved her tongue talentedly, moaning against you as she slid another finger in, making you're legs tremble, as she moved your legs on her shoulders.

you moaned her name like a prayer, as you felt that knot in you're stomach. "mm- elphie- not so fast- im so close-" you tried, but that made her go faster, making you moan louder. the only things you could hear was you're moans, and her fingers pumping in and out.

you couldn't even warn elphaba as you're orgasm crashed like a wave, moaning and gripping her braids as you're legs trembled. when she pulled away, she gave that wicked smirk.

she grabbed her strap she practically made herself, as you practically whined at the sight, as she smirked, saying "be a good girl and spread you're legs f'me." and you responded immediately, knowing better than to not. you watched as she got it situated and she came down to kiss you greedily as she slid the strap into you slowly, as you moaned and grabbed her muscular arms, whining.

"aw baby i know, i know." she cooed in you're ear. "its okay, you're okay. mhm.. feel good?" she whispered in your ear as she went faster, hearing you're babbles and moans. she smiled and kissed you're neck and gripped you're hips. "you're so pretty, baby." she whispered as she went faster, hearing you're wet sounds, groaning as the strap rubbed across her own clit as you moaned her name over and over. "i know, baby, i know... you're doing so goof for me.. mm.. i love you.." she mumbled as she went faster, feeling you come again made her sigh as she pulled it out. smiling down at you.

"feel good?" she teased as you rolled you're eyes and flipped them over. "my turn,' she mumbled as you dived down, immediately gripping her green thighs, not hesitating to shove two fingers in easily with how wet she was, hearing her gasp filled you with motivation as you curled you're fingers to hit her sweet spot, making her back arch as you went impossibly faster, making her whine and clench around you're fingers as you used your thumb to rub lazy yet fast circles on her clit, making her gasp.

when you curled you're fingers, she moaned loudly as she came, legs trembling. "oh my god.." she moaned as she came on you're fingers, coating them as you pulled them out as brought them to you're lips to taste the green girl, making her chuckle. "cmere." she mumbled as you pulled you down onto her, kissing you're forehead. "i love you, elphie.." you whispered as she smiled. "i love you more, my sweet."

[spikeface]

Theo & der Soldat

Still thinking about the fact that Theo instantly recognizes Douglas, despite the fact that der Soldat looked very different when he was in a tube of magical goo. 

Even stranger, Douglas immediately recognizes Theo.

When the two of them finally have a moment alone together, they speak, in my humble opinion, like they’ve spoken before (6x07):

THEO: Have you been here the whole time?

DOUGLAS: How could I stay away?

THEO: Maybe you should tell them who you really are... Hauptmann.

So when did they talk?

I like to think that at some point, years before Theo comes back to Beacon Hills, the Doctors decide that der Soldat might be more useful in a different way. They get him out of the tube, make sure he can’t go anywhere, and then proceed with their experiments.

Which leaves a let’s-say-12-year-old Theo to babysit a furious Nazi German alpha werelion from the 1940s. 

It’s a mess at first. Theo’s used to strangers in the lab, but it’s usually kids, and they’re always easy to quiet. The stranger is loud. Theo has no idea what he’s saying. He yells and yells until Theo breaks out the kanima venom, the same way the Doctors used to do with him. That finally shuts the stranger up.

Eventually, the stranger starts to ask about things. Slowly, he learns English, while Theo learns German.

“Hauptmann,” says the man, when Theo tells him his own name. Theo learns enough German to know that’s not a name, but whatever. He doesn’t care about this guy’s fancy titles. The real power is the ability to leave the labs, which only Theo has. 

The soldier calls him boy, but Theo doesn’t mind that either, after the way the Doctors only call him Theo Raeken, like he’s one of their Latin ingredients.

Once the man learns to speak English, he talks a lot.

It’s nice. He’s probably the safest things in the lab: always tied up, regularly monitored by the Doctors, and clearly aware of the fact that anything he wants has to come through Theo. He’s funny, sometimes. Sarcastic. He learns things quickly. He lets Theo teach him what the modern world is like. They watch cartoons together on Theo’s fancy new iPhone, Hauptmann eating Apple Jacks, Theo’s favorite cereal. Hauptmann says it’s disgusting but he always finishes his bowl. He laughs at the cartoons.

Hauptmann teaches Theo what he knows: mainly how to kill people, and also a little bit of 1940s physics.

He’s not a bad teacher. Theo tells him so.

“Before the war, I teached children,” says Hauptmann, the first thing he’s mentioned about his personal life.

"Taught,” Theo corrects, pleased with himself.

“Taught,” Hauptmann agrees.

Eventually, he confesses that his goal is still to run away. Theo scoffs. The Doctors can find anyone, anywhere. They don’t like loose ends and there’s no way to sense them coming. It’s no use. 

“You need more ambition,” Hauptmann chides. “There are forces in this world more powerful than them.”

“Like what?”

Hauptmann explains about the Wild Hunt. “It comes, it goes. There’s no stopping it. And I have a personal connection to the Ghost Riders.”

“What’s stopping you from calling them, then?”

“This place.” Hauptmann gestures to the labs. “It’s protected from electricity. The Doctors are afraid.”

Theo likes the sound of that. He’s never seen the Doctors afraid of anything. 

He does more research. The Ghost Riders can’t be controlled, he learns, but it’s possible to become one.

It’s not ideal. They look sort of gross, nothing like the perfect pack he was promised when he joined the Doctors. But it’s been years of nothing, with them. Theo can settle.

“I’ll help you get out of here,” he proposes warily, the next time the Doctors are gone, “and then you call the Wild Hunt.”

It’s risky, but Theo’s minimized the risk: all Hauptmann has to do is what he wants to do anyway, and Theo benefits. It’s a good plan. 

And him and Hauptmann are friends, sort of. Theo’s been nice to him. Apple Jacks and everything. That has to count for something.

Hauptmann agrees. 

Theo undoes his chains.

Hauptmann’s hands are instantly around his neck. Red eyes glare down at him viciously. Even a real beta probably couldn’t fight him off. Theo’s got no chance.

He’s going to die here.

Until suddenly, Hauptmann’s being hauled back by the Pathologist, while the Geneticist injects him with something. The Surgeon supervises as they drag him back to the vat.

Theo stands, coughing painfully, and watches Hauptmann kick and scream. Fuck him.

He turns more nervously to the Surgeon. The guy’s not gonna be happy about this. Things could get really bad.

But it’s useless to run.

Except, all that happens is that the Surgeon stares down at him with that clinical eye and rasps, “Failure is its own punishment.”

Then he turns away.

Theo is left with a slowly healing throat, a discomfiting gratitude for the Doctors, and a newfound commitment to getting the perfect pack--on his own, if the Doctors won’t help. Fuck settling.

[howlsofbloodhounds]

anon from yesterday, i remembered some of the other things i wanted your opinion on. (all color spectrum again)

do you think killer would play animal crossing, like i can just picture him playing for like hours on end for some reason

killer would be addicted to the sound of colors laugh, and would like do anything to hear him laugh

color loves kissing killers forehead (idk?)

more color spectrum questions later

Color loves giving all his friends forehead kisses if theyll accept it.

I personally like to think that Color’s body is very, very, very hypersensitive to physical touch due to the decades of complete isolation, and as a result, he rarely ever enjoys being touched without warning or permission.

It gets too overwhelming, and it can even cause him physical pain given the fragility of his body—and while he doesn’t mind the pain itself if not enjoying it (especially if he can see the colors that certain pain causes, and it thinks it’s beautiful)—it’s the being touched without permission, without warning, and the way his body feels out of his control—responsive to touch, even if his mind doesn’t want it—that is distressing.

His reactions, physically and emotionally, can often seem extreme or “overdramatic,” or not appropriate for the situation or what the other person was going for. (And making him feel like he’s being overdramatic or invaliding his emotions would only cause him worse pain, causing Justice to prompt Color to firmly and coldly tell whoever is causing the pain to never speak to him like that again.)

Color is definitely the type of be hyper aware of boundaries, his own and others. He gets unbelievably angry and upset if someone “breaks” a boundary or rule—at its worse, he can feel like someone doesn’t respect or love him at all, or like maybe he never knew this person as well as he thought he did, even if it was just a misunderstanding or an accident.

(This is where souls like Integrity and Justice come in, to validate his emotions and encourage him to reinforce his boundaries, but also to remind him of the nuance in the situation and to discourage him from lashing out because he feels hurt, destabilized, and unsafe, which would go against the other rules of his Integrity. And feeling like he’s failing to maintain his integrity would only make Color feel worse and send him spiraling.)

And I agree that Killer would love the sound of Color’s laughter, similar to the way Color enjoys the sound of Killer’s voice—Color likes the colors he sees in his mind when Killer speaks, lighting up his mind with gorgeous golds and silvers.

Killer likes the way Color’s face and eye lights up especially when he makes Color laugh, even just an amused chuckle at one of Killer’s sarcastic remarks or dark jokes, especially if it causes Color to give him that look he doesn’t know the meaning of but likes when he looks at him like that. He likes knowing that he caused that, he’s the reason that Color’s happy. Not Delta, or Epic, or even any of the other Killers.

It’s nice to hear Color laugh in general, but he likes knowing and seeing the effects he has on Color even if he doesn’t know why exactly he wants to see more of them (and cause more of them) in Stage 2—especially when, in Stage 2, he likely struggles to realize the impact and effect his own physical body and touch could have on others—given that he is so disconnected from it, viewing it as nothing more than a tool to be used to reach an end goal or desired result.

I don’t know too much about Animal Crossing, having never played myself, but I don’t see why not.

[bisexualbrainrots]

sooo I was in the shower listening to dua lipa and got this idea. it could follow the kiss probably, but in short: oliver and lou had a fling but fought around november, they’ve been away since then and oliver traveled across the country, lou gets a call around the week he’s back in l.a.

The book wasn’t bad, not at all, but Lou was regretting the spur of the moment purchase of a self-help book. He tried to concentrate, he really did, but his mind kept drifting away to the same reason he bought the book in the first place.

He reached for his phone, about to log onto his Instagram, until he got a call incoming.

He was calling.

Lou cursed under his breath, Why haven’t I blocked his number yet? he thought

Because you still miss it.

Despite the way his body was screaming at him not to answer, he swiped green and put the phone on speaker, the book in his hands as he tried to get back to it.

“Hi”

He rolled his eyes, “And why the fuck are you calling now?”

Lou knew he sounded hostile, But what more could you ask when the last time they talked it was through an unresolved fight? When the asshole didn’t admit he had been in the wrong, when he didn’t want to admit that this pattern was damaging for both of them.

“Well nice to hear from you too Lou, I’m doing good, thanks”

There was no way he was going to concentrate on the damn book if he kept hearing that stupid voice. Lou threw the book on the bed and laid flat on it, feeling the softness of the duvet.

“Oliver I’m not in the mood to entertain whatever this is, What do you want?”

He heard a sigh and something else he couldn’t pick up on, but it didn’t matter to him.

It wasn’t supposed to matter.

“Okay, uh, Lou I was calling to apologize, like actually apologize”

Lou was baffled “And you wanna do this over the phone?”

Oliver scoffed “Hey at least I want to talk, you're the one who cut contact with me”

He ran his hands through his hair, this guy was making him crazy.

It’s true that Lou cut contact with Oliver after their fight, he thought it was the logical step. Who cares if they were sleeping together? Who cares if they’d spent months of their lives, an entire summer, learning all their weak spots and how their bodies moved? Who cares if Lou had ultimately caught feelings for somebody he knew was never going to reciprocate them?

“Yeah, because I thought I could trust you”

There was a silence a little too long, and Lou thought he had hung up.

“I’m sorry, okay? I-I know it was shitty of me to say all those things to you, and, I understand now you were struggling so much it’s just… I’m really sorry Lou”

He bit his lip, his eyes wide shut “You know what’s so fucked up about this?... I had to show you all the things they were saying about me so that you could believe it, a-and you knew about it”

“I didn’t know all of it Lou, I just—”

“You just what? Knew all your co stars were being harassed and did nothing? I get it, it’s not your job to defend me, but I thought that we… that I could be…” Lou sighed, feeling his eyes burn as he fluttered them open “I thought that the fact that we’d been fucking meant something to you”

He heard a hitch in Oliver’s breath and a muttered “Of course it meant something Lou, for fucks’ sake” 

“Then why… forget it, I’ll hang up”

“No! Please, Lou, bloody hell you’re like a mule sometimes” he sounded exasperated, like Lou was the most stubborn person he’d ever met.

Lou blinked “That is not making it any harder for me to hang up, jerk”

He heard a deep breath “Look, after we ended things I did something… I traveled”

Lou frowned “Like abroad? I mean, good for you if that’s—”

“No, not fucking abroad, I… went across states on my van”

Now Lou was confused, a surprised laugh escaped him “You what?”

He could see it though. The mental image of Oliver travelling across the country with a car, his camera and a dream made him smile, which quickly turned into a frown as he realized what he was doing.

“Yeah, I don't know, I just… I wanted to be in with my thoughts for a while” any other day Lou would've rolled his eyes at the phrasing, but right now he was intrigued “And I thought that traveling on a van would be good a-and it was… and so I had time to think, about us”

Lou sat up on his bed, looking intensely at his phone “And?” he asked, elongating the word.

He heard a nervous chuckle “God, I miss you, I miss… this, and I know I was an arse there's no doubt about that, but it's just… I'm really sorry”

Lou clenched his hand around his shirt. It was all so painful still, avoiding Oliver for over a month only helped to bury his feelings, but it was like burying them in sand. And now the ocean was bringing it back to the surface.

“Lou, you there?”

“Y-yeah it's just… shit, I miss you too”

He was a weak man, there's no other explanation for what he was doing. 

Lou knew Oliver was smiling on the other side, he could just feel the corners of his lips curling up and his teeth showing through the phone call. And it was making him feel things.

Things he hadn't allowed himself to feel for weeks.

“If you wanted, maybe we could meet up one day, and have a better conversation than this” Lou nodded, even though Oliver could not see his face. 

“Okay, sure”

He heard Oliver exhale deeply, like he had finally found a bit of peace after all this time. Lou was envious of that. 

“Lou?”

He hummed as a reply, loud enough for him to hear, as he laid back on his bed. His cheek resting on the heel of his hand.

“Don’t you miss it sometimes?”

He frowned, looking intently at his phone “Miss what?”

“My hands on your body”

He heard the record scratch in his brain, feeling a little… offended? Conflicted? Aroused?

Aroused was definitely in there, but his pride was stronger at that moment. 

“Oliver are you serious—” he stopped when heard a groan that made him grip at the bed “What are you– Oliver”

“I’m not really doing anything, just… reminiscing” he pulled his reading glasses up to his head and covered his face with his hands when he heard that voice, the one Oliver did whenever he wanted to get something from him. 

Which always ended up being related to his dick somehow. 

Lou pushed the heels of his hands to his eyes, shaking his head at the ideas that were forming in it, “You cannot just… damn it Oliver, where are you even?” 

Oliver chuckled, now he really wanted to punch him “I’m seated and safe if that answers your question”

“It really does not” he threw a short laugh, letting his hands rest on his belly “... What are you wearing?”

He was just a man in the end, a weak one, but a man nonetheless.

Oliver's soft laugh felt like music to his ears “Just, a simple shirt and sweatpants… nothing under if you were asking yourself that”

“I was not, thank you very much” he sighed, his hands finding their way under his shirt, caressing his happy trail “I do miss it”

“W-what?”

“I… I miss your hands on me, I miss your body and the way you used to say my name, Oli”

He hasn't called him like that in a long time.

“Fuck, Lou… I miss all of that too, I-I really miss all of you it's… fuckin' hell” he heard a hitch in Oliver's voice, and now Lou was definitely wondering what was going on on the other side of the line. 

So he pressed.

“Touch yourself Oli, over your clothes” he heard a whine on the other side and chuckled “Now that's another thing I missed about you, I missed hearing you desperate for it” 

His own hands traveled to his crotch, pressing on it with the heels. His toes curled when he heard a moan come out of Oliver.

“Shit, I… I'm not desperate” he liked to do that, to fight Lou off and bicker until the only thing they could do to shut the other up was with their mouths.

“Sure you aren't”

“W-where are you right now, Lou?” he looked around, appreciating the fact that he was completely alone at the moment. 

“My bed, obviously, I was actually trying to read a book when you called” there was a pause on the other line.

“You have your reading glasses on?” Lou adjusted the glasses and smiled, remembering the times Oliver had seen him with them on. 

“Yup” he said, exaggerating the p sound.

Oliver groaned “God, you look so hot with those glasses, makes me want to…”

Lou smiled as he heard the soft sigh come out of Oliver’s mouth. The younger had a thing for Lou’s glasses and it was sort of endearing. Even though it always ended up with the older’s soul getting sucked through his dick, but it wasn’t something he couldn’t manage. Sometimes he put them on on purpose, just to tease.

Lou took off his shirt, his body heat making the layer of fabric feel uncomfortable “Touch me? Fuck me?” one of his hands went up to his chest, caressing the area.

There was a whimper, and Lou moaned softly at the sound “Fuck, yes, I just… I just want to feel you once again Lou”

“You could if you were here”

Oliver snickered, “Is that an invitation?”

Lou rolled his eyes, smiling playfully “Not unless you find a way to convince me that is a good idea” the thought of the younger coming to his place made him sigh in content, arching his back as he lowered his pyjama pants down to his thighs. His free hand went towards his hard cock, and started to jerk himself off.

“The thought of me inside of you wouldn't be convincing enough?”

He moaned loudly, throwing his head back on his pillows as his hips rolled against his hand, going a little faster at the idea “Oliver… fuck”. The images of the younger lifting his hips to get a better angle and touching every part of his body made him squirm.

“What are you doing right now Lou?” Oliver’s voice reached a new level of deep, making Lou rock his hips with an intensity that made the bed squeak.

“Fucking my fist Oli, I also… I also don't have my shirt on” he cursed under his breath when he heard a needy sound come straight out of Oliver's throat. He smiled knowingly, the fact is that the younger also had an interest in the older's chest, the dozens of bruises he left in the past were proof of it.

“God… grab your pec Lou, do it like I would, c'mon” 

He did so, grabbing one of them with a tight grasp and then kneading it like dough as he stimulated his nipple. 

“Oli… Oliver I don't know if your hand's still over your clothes but pull your dick out, fuck, I want to hear you”

“Lou— shit, ah, okay yeah I'm… fucking hell, I want to be there with you Lou, you have no fucking idea what I'd do to you” a wet sound made Lou's eye roll and bite his lip in a way that made him taste blood, his palm slick as it was being covered with precum.

“I know you’d love to be here Oliver… to have your head between my legs as I fill your throat with me, and you'd… you…” He couldn't find the words, the pleasure making his brain melt out of his ears.

“I’d let you fuck my throat Lou, pull my hair and keep me there until you’re satisfied”

Lou moaned loudly, blabbering a trail of yes yes yes as he stilled his hips up, pumping his cock with a firm grip.

“... Then I'd fill you up, fucking you until you come a second time, fuck, h-how would you want to take me Lou?” Oliver's breathing was agitated, he was close, so close, and Lou was too.

Lou whined “Riding you in reverse, bouncing on your cock while you leave marks up to my shoulders— holy shit, I-I’m gonna come”

“Come for me Lou, c'mon do it baby”

And the pet name does it. He arches his back so much it could snap, and comes in a guttural scream, spilling all over his hand and lower belly as his body spasms. He rides the orgasm wave as he hears the loudest moan come out of Oliver, and milks himself dry. 

“Did you… did you just call me…?” his chest was heaving, body covered in a layer of sweat as he stared at the ceiling, dumbfounded.

“I did, yeah… w-was that okay?” Lou's cheeks blushed. They had never called each other by any pet names, too intimate for the kind of relationship they had. 

He smiled and looked at the phone before taking his leap “Baby… I like it, would you like that I—”

“Call me like that, please” Lou heard Oliver sigh, and it only made his smile grow wider. 

They were idiots.

Lou sat up, leaning towards the nightstand and opening the drawer to take the toilet paper he kept for situations like this. He cleaned himself and giggled as Oliver complained about his cum stained clothes “Hey, you could've taken them off like I did Oli”

He heard a grunt and knew the younger was probably rolling his eyes, “Maybe, but I—” a noise made Lou frown, and he turned off the speaker, pulling their phone towards his ear to listen well, without much success. 

“What was that?” he asked when the younger returned to talk to him..

Oliver chuckled nervously “Oh, just… one of your neighbors”

“What?!” Lou looked out the window as he straightened up, wide-eyed “Where are you?”

“In my van” he sounded embarrassed, and Lou couldn’t really blame him, even though it all felt unbelievable to him.

“Oliver… you've been outside this whole time?”

Oliver chuckled “Can’t seem to stay away, right?”

He laughed, almost hysterically. He couldn't believe the younger had been there this whole time instead of knocking down his door. Though he supposed it made sense, in a weird way that he understood.

He doesn’t think he would’ve dared to knock on Oliver’s door had the tables been turned.

Once he’s calmed he pulled up his pants and walked out of his bedroom “Come in”

“Oh I will, baby” Lou rolled his eyes but laughed softly, shaking his head as he approached his front door.

“Shut up”

And they were back to where they left, tangled bodies and whispers in their ears.

Neither of them knows if the cycle will repeat, or if they’ve found a way to break it. All they know is that they couldn’t stay away from each other for too long.

Not even if they could help it.

read on AO3.

[out-there-tmblr]

Young Zaundads wip (26)

***

For the sake of progress, they don't make the new tunnel any bigger than it needs to be. It's tall enough for Vander to kneel and punch cracks into the next lot of bedrock, but no higher. Vander breaks the rock and moves the pieces behind him; Silco moves the rocks to the larger cavern, clearing the tunnel.

Despite the three charges in Silco's pocket, neither of them are willing to use it. They don't want to risk causing another cave in.

The work is slow and tiring, and Vander's knees feel like they'll be covered in bruises by tomorrow. Silco rolls the bigger rocks out of the way. The smaller ones he lifts up and carries out, bent over in half to fit in their little tunnel.

There's no way for Vander to know if they're digging straight or starting to curve, but he can feel the sweat soaking through his shirt and the ache in his arms as they keep moving forward.

They take a break, both of them lying on the cavern floor just to stretch their backs and rest their legs.

Vander eyes the broken gas mask, the gap down the front where the metal edges bend and twist away from each other. "I almost wish Benzo was here. He'd be able to fix that."

One side of Silco's lip curls up, like he's too tired to sneer properly. They both know Vander isn't great with anything delicate and Silco might have nerves of steel but that's about the limit of his machinery knowledge. There's no way either of them can fix it. "We could try it anyway. It can't hurt our chances."

Vander rolls his head to the side, watching Silco. The strong line of his nose, the soaring curve of his cheekbones, the small chin and narrow jaw. He always thinks it's Silco's eyes that make him pretty, or the thin, delicate line of his lips, but it's everything. It's the knowing arch of his brows and the strands of dark hair falling across his cheek. Everything about him is sharp and fine, and stronger than he looks.

It's not somethingbhe wa looking for, not really, but he can't imagine his life without Silco in it. Maybe Silco should know that, since there's a strong chance they might not make it through the night.

"We're not dead yet," Silco says dismissively, before Vander can even work out the words to say.

Vander feels his own tired grin. "That could have been a nice moment. I could have said something sentimental. Something romantic."

"Your idea of romance starts and ends with: you're pretty, want to fuck?" Silco says tiredly and Vander laughs. He's not wrong.

"Are you complaining?"

"Nothing wrong with the classics." Silco watches him, something serious lurking beneath the wry humour. "You're pretty. Want to fuck?"

It catches Vander's breath for a moment, what Silco really means. The words neither of them are saying, even if they are true. It feels safer to treat it as a joke. "Now?"

"When we get out of this," Silco clarifies. "Five more minutes, then we keep digging."

***

They keep working, hour after hour, and their small tunnel grows longer. The lantern light is growing dimmer but Vander can't afford to worry about what they'll do when it fails. How they'll make any progress when it's just them and the dark.

He looks up at Silco's shuffling footsteps and notices his kerchief is tied across his face again. "Why are you wearing that?"

"Put yours on," Silco says instead of explaining. He hands over the broken gas mask. "I tried it. Doesn't work at all with that hole."

But the only way he'd be able to test it is if… "The Grey?"

"It's started seeping through the collapse." Silco sounds calm and collected, but his hands are clenched in tight fists. "We have some time yet. Keep going."

The spike of adrenaline helps Vander to hit harder, to force the bedrock around them to give way. He stops worrying about breaking the rocks smaller and just tries to break through to something. Something that isn't sheer rock and their inevitable deaths.

Silco doesn't complain about the larger rocks; he just rolls them along the uneven floor, pushing them out. Each time he comes back breathing heavier, until he comes back and sinks to the ground, pulling his makeshift mask off to gulp for air. His eyes are red and watering.

"Swap," Vander says. "I'll take the next lot."

"What could I do," Silco says and his voice is rough as gravel, "with those gauntlets?"

"Then rest," Vander says, grabbing the largest bits of rocks and hunching over to carry them out. He finds their cavern half full of the Grey. It's creeping through the pile of broken rock, grey-green fog spreading across the floor. It stings his eyes, makes his throat feel hot and scratchy, like the start of a bad cold.

Vander clamps a hand over his mouth and heads back to Silco.

Silco is still sitting on the ground. His eyes have stopped watering but they're still bloodshot. "We have to keep going."

"Can we seal the tunnel behind us? Buy some time from the Grey?"

Silco shakes his head and then pauses, thinking. "We could set a charge. Cause a collapse to slow it down."

"Could the whole thing cave in if we do that?"

Silco shrugs. His voice still sounds rough. "Maybe. We don't have any good options here, Vander. It's a risk, whether we do it or not."

He hates that Silco's right. If they do nothing, they have to hope to dig somewhere before the Grey fills this whole tunnel. "So, best case scenario, it doesn't collapse above our heads and it seals the entrance?"

"Best case? There's enough silt above us to seal it tightly, and we dig somewhere before we breathe all of the air in one small, sealed tunnel."

"So, suffocation, suffocation or being crushed to death? What do you think?"

"Set the charges," Silco says grimly. "If we're crushed, it's quick. If we run out of air, we'll fall asleep and never wake. It's better than dying with your lungs burning as you claw at your own throat."

***