#I wrote it in my notes app and then went to bed

[crab-crab]

A Dire Revelation

Yall wanna see something I wrote? https://archiveofourown.org/works/48568042

Well here ya go! You can read it on ao3 or you can read it under the cut (if there is one hopefully there is)

Tags: 

Everyone is there but those are the five who are mentioned

Temporary Character Death

Hopeful Ending

Time (Linked Universe)-centric

Sky (Linked Universe)-centric

Time centric cause its his pov but its about Sky and First

Blood and Injury

Angst

Im trying to think of all the tags that this would fall under

The First Hero is Sky's dad

That's important because I love it so much

I wrote this at like 3 am while blasting sad music and here we go

Sky joined The Chain last

for context

I think that's all the tags?

Rating: Teen and Up

Summary: That one word brought Time back to the weeks after their adventure started. On a night after a difficult and bloody fight that left himself and First awake to watch over the other boys. Time had spoken a little about Malon, his dear wife, and had made the choice to tell his fellow hero about how he missed her. In response, First had told him about his home.

-----

A bloody battle leaves The Chain with a horrifying revelation.

The fic is under this nifty cut here that I remembered how to do so have fun!

The battle was tough. It was harrowing. It was draining.

But they managed to win, only at a cost.

Time pressed against the oozing wound that was nearly cleaving First in half. The shadow had snuck on the group from the hoards of other monsters, aiming to strike the newest edition to their group, and had nearly skewered Sky before First had managed to get in the way of the slash.

The man was now collapsed on the ground, breathing heavily as Hyrule sat on his other side with his hands surrounded by the soft glow of healing magic.

The others had finished off the rest of the hoard, Twilight and Warriors leading the group as both older men were down. Sky had rushed over as soon as he could, their newly added member had been a mystery to all of them.

He never pulled down the hood from his cloak, never slept close to others in the camp, and was oddly skittish around both Time and First.

In the beginning, it had sown suspicion in some of the chain. Time remembers when Warriors had confided in him that he was worried Sky had been sent by the Shadow, a false hero meant to divide the group. That had all stopped when Wild started seeking Sky out. The Champion only ever did that with a select few of the chain and with Sky being added onto that list, it quelled any lingering fears.

Now, Sky had bolted to Hylia's favored the minute he could, dropping heavily beside Time as he reached out to touch First before his hand jerked to a standstill as if slapped. The boy was shaking and Time nudged him gently from where his own spot was beside their comrade.

A hooded head turning towards him had Time tilting his head towards First "He's a fighter, and Hyrule has managed to heal wounds from the shadow before." The words seemed to help slightly, Sky lowering his hand and looking back to First.

As the others finally made their way over, the body beneath his hands shuddered before slowly falling still. Hyrule cursed, Wind asked what happened while Warriors dropped on Time's other side to get at the wound. His boys were all either asking what was going on or frantically searching their bags for potions or fairies. Between all of the movement is when Time heard the one thing that drove the nail deeper into his already breaking heart.

" Dad? "

Time, removing his hands from the wound as Warriors finally was able to stitch it, turned to the smaller hero beside him. They'd never heard Sky talk before, the boy preferring sign ever since they met him, and the hero always kept himself quiet either in happiness or sorrow as if trying to be as unobtrusive as possible.

That one word brought Time back to the weeks after their adventure started. On a night after a difficult and bloody fight that left himself and First awake to watch over the other boys. Time had spoken a little about Malon, his dear wife, and had made the choice to tell his fellow hero about how he missed her. In response, First had told him about his home.

About his son

It was clear at that moment why Hylia had chosen First as her favorite. The man had clearly held so much love in his heart. Had been practically radiating it as he spoke about a small boy who followed him where the man went. A small boy who he’d taken in after a terrible night of disaster and death. Hylias favor was the clearest in the fact that First had left his son in his friend's care so that he could set out in an effort to keep him from having to follow in First's steps.

That night played back to Time in a matter of seconds as he heard another shake call from Sky, tears audible as the boy reached out to grip the elder hero's hand.

Quickly, he reached out and placed his hand on Sky's shoulder. Pulling him away from First as he got more frantic and his hood slipped revealing a face almost identical to Hylias favored. Honey-colored hair, earrings the same shade of red as First's cloak, and eyes blue enough to put the heaven to shame. It was the final blow that Time needed to quickly scoop the sobbing teen up and usher him away from his father.

That night would haunt Time, as he cradled a wailing boy who wanted his father to come back. A boy who'd lost the man that raised him to the same thing that'd taken his childhood from him.

And when the sobs had died down, the sun rose and brought along with it the raising of a chest that the sun had blessed.

[skygirlstars]

me when the fic idea that’s been marinating in my head for months finally has words but they only come to me right when I’m about to go to sleep 😐 I hate it here

[missdynamighttt]

acidentally snooping on bf! katsuki's phone and seeing something... kinky.

you were just on katsuki’s phone, playing subway surfers. you honestly didn’t even remember because the moment you accidentally swiped to his notes app, your eyes landed on a particular note titled “shit to try w/ her” and curiosity got the best of you.

at first, you thought it was something mundane—maybe new date ideas, training routines, or even a new recipes. but as soon as you opened it, your face went hot.

because it was a list. a very detailed list of all the filthy things katsuki wanted to do to you. some of it was stuff you’d already done—rougher, filthier things that had you squeezing your thighs together just remembering them. but then there were the others. the things he clearly hadn’t brought up yet.

shit to try w/ her

- overstimulating her (worse than usual. she looks so pretty when she cries on my dick)

- mirror sex while making her watch (want her to see how fuckin’ pretty she looks fallin’ apart.)

- recording it (for us only).

- thigh riding while i just sit back and watch (bet she'd whine so fuckin pretty too)

- more praise. (she likes that. she gets all shy. cute as fuck.)

- see how many times i can make her come in a single night.

your eyes widened at that last one. oh.

you kept scrolling, your thighs pressing together involuntarily. you knew katsuki was a freak, but seeing it written out like this, with all the little notes and thoughts he’d clearly been holding onto—made your breath hitch.

this was… a lot. not that you were opposed to most of it, but the fact that katsuki was sitting on this list, keeping it to himself, planning? that was almost hotter than the list itself.

you were still staring at the screen when you heard the bathroom door open. before you could react, a shadow loomed over you.

“the fuck you doin’?” katsuki’s voice was gruff, but he sounded relaxed—like he was toweling off his hair as he walked into the room.

you scrambled to lock his phone, but it was too late. the second he saw the look on your face, the way you were gripping his phone like you’d just uncovered a government secret, his eyes narrowed.

“…what did you see?” his voice was cautious now, tinged with suspicion.

you slowly turned to him, raising an eyebrow. “me? what are you doing making a list of all the filthy things you wanna do to me?”

katsuki froze .a slow, deep flush crept up his neck, spreading to his ears. his jaw clenched, his hands twitching at his sides like he wasn’t sure if he should snatch his phone away or act like nothing happened.

“…you weren’t supposed to see that.”

your smirk widened. “oh? and when was i supposed to?”

he groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “dunno. when i fuckin’ brought it up.”

you leaned in, voice teasing. “well, damn. didn’t know you had all these filthy little fantasies about me.”

“shut up,” katsuki sputtered, face burning, his hand swiping for the phone. he groaned, burying his face in his hands. “fuckin’ kill me.”

you laughed, wrapping your arms around his neck. “y’know, all you had to do was ask, baby.”

his fingers dug into your waist, his jaw clenching. “don’t—”

“i can’t believe you wrote it all down,” you teased breathlessly. “you’re so cute when you’re embarrassed.”

katsuki groaned, muffled against your neck. “i’m gonna kill you. you keep runnin’ that mouth, and i’ll start checkin’ shit off that list right now."

you bit your lip, feeling bolder. “you know… we could. cross something off the list.”

his eyes snapped to yours, darkening in an instant.

“…get on the bed.”

and then, without another word, he crushed his lips against yours and, well—you did end up checking something off that list that night. particularly, the last one.

you lost count somewhere after the third orgasm, but katsuki didn’t. oh no, he kept track. every time your body seized up, every time you sobbed his name, every time you gasped that you couldn’t take anymore—he whispered the number into your ear like a reminder.

“four,” he’d growled, dragging his thumb over your swollen clit. “look at you, fuckin’ cryin’ for me.”

“five,” he rasped later, his grip on your thighs tightening when you tried to squirm away. “told ya you could give me more.”

by the last one, your body was boneless, your voice gone, and your mind a hazy blur of pleasure. katsuki finally relented, collapsing beside you and pulling you into his chest.

you felt his lips press against your temple, his breathing uneven as he whispered, “fuckin’ champ.”

the morning after, you were sprawled across katsuki’s chest, his arm draped lazily around your waist as the sun peeked through the curtains. your entire body ached in the best way possible.

you groaned softly, shifting to get more comfortable, and his chest rumbled with a low chuckle, his fingers traced lazy patterns on your bare back. "you alive?"

"barely," you mumbled into his chest. "my legs hate you."

he chuckled, the sound vibrating beneath your cheek. "told ya you could take it."

you huffed a laugh, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. his crimson eyes were soft in the morning light, the usual sharpness replaced with warmth—and just a hint of smug pride.

“well, i didn’t know you were gonna go for the damn world record,” you teased. “how many times was it?”

his smirk deepened. “seven.”

your jaw dropped. “seven?”

“mhm,” he squeezed your waist. “you were real fuckin’ cute, too. cryin’, beggin’, squeezin’ me like that. thought you were gonna pass out on number six.”

your cheeks burned. “oh my god, stop.”

“why? can’t handle hearin’ how fuckin’ pretty you were last night?”

you covered your face with your hands, groaning. but katsuki was having none of it—he pried your hands away and pinned them to the mattress, leaning down until his lips brushed yours.

“seven,” he repeated against your mouth, grinning when you squirmed beneath him. “and next time? we’re goin’ for eight.”

‎‧₊˚✧[ it's me, kia ! ]✧˚₊‧ ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ ‎‧₊˚✧[ more of katsuki ! ]✧˚₊‧

[isabelckl]

texting loser!ellie that you have nipple piercing in class 4

nerdy loser!ellie x popular mean fem!reader

bored in english, you reply to a girl named E you’ve been talking to on an anonymous gay dating app—without knowing it’s that lesbian nerd girl, ellie williams.

texting loser!ellie that you have nipple piercing in class 5

You were already home when you opened your conversation with her.

E:

i have to tell you something.

You frowned the second your eyes landed on it.

You were already curled into bed—fresh from the shower, hair damp against your neck, oversized shirt slouching soft over your thighs. The room was dim, lit only by the weak orange buzz of your fairy lights. That Friday exhaustion still clung to your bones, but none of it mattered.

You were settled. Cozy. Warm.

There was nothing better than the thought of spending the whole weekend like this—no plans, no noise. Just your room, your phone, and her.

Something about the message hit different. Not her usual caps-locked chaos or horny emoji spiral. Just plain. Sharp. Hanging in the air like a loaded pause.

You stared at it longer than you meant to, thumb hovering.

You:

heyyyy

yeah?

what is it

You watched the read receipt appear, vanish, then return—followed by the word Typing, then nothing, then Typing again, like she was wrestling with whatever it was she couldn’t quite say.

E:

nevermind lol it’s dumb

just had a brain moment

u ever think a thing and go wait no i’m actually insane?

that was me. carry on.

You stared and your frown lingered.

There was something in it. Something unfinished, like she’d swallowed the thought halfway. It pressed at your chest—not hard, but enough to make you pause.

You let it sit there and tapped your thumb slow against the screen.

You:

don’t do that

if it mattered to you, it’s not dumb.

A beat and you double texted her.

You:

but fine. i’ll stop bugging

just tell me when ur ready

even if it’s weird

i like weird

E:

okay but what if it was like “i was possessed by a sexy ghost” weird

or “i’ve been thinking about ur mouth for 5 days straight” weird

bc that’s the category i’m working in rn

You snorted, the knot in your chest loosening instantly.

You:

girl what

E:

this is ur fault.

ur criminally hot and i’m emotionally unstable.

i almost sent u a poem today and had to physically restrain myself

You:

wait u wrote me a poem???

E:

no one’s ever gonna see it

unless i die then u can publish it posthumously

You rolled onto your side, laughing into your pillow, smiling so hard it made your face ache.

You:

SO how was ur day, poet

other than spiraling over my mouth

did the tragic lesbian survive algebra?

E:

barely

i almost died. they tried to silence me.

i doodled boobs on my notes again. staying humble.

You:

u say that like it’s a coping mechanism

E:

it is. ur boobs specifically

You snorted again, tension bleeding out of you with every stupid message that followed.

You:

do u miss them ??

should i send u some again so u can cope better?

E:

don’t tempt me rn i’m weak and unsupervised

You:

so that’s a yes

E:

that’s an always

You bit your lip, grinning into your pillow like an idiot.

She was back to herself—unhinged and dramatic, talking about how her math teacher was probably a demon who fed on the dreams of students. Complete with all-caps outbursts and at least two conspiracy theories. You kept laughing. Kept typing.

Eventually, your thumbs started to cramp.

You:

i swear my thumbs are buff now bc of u

E:

hot

You:

everything i say u turn into gay

E:

it's given

You bit your lip. Your heart thumped—stupid and full.

You didn’t ask again about the message. You didn’t have to. Whatever she’d meant to say, she clearly couldn’t yet.

You stayed texting until your phone went warm in your palm, until your eyes stung from grinning too long. By the time you checked the clock, it was 3AM.

You didn’t mean to stay up that late, but that’s what always happened with her. The later it got, the more chaotic the messages became. If it wasn’t full-blown unhinged, it was weirdly horny. And if it wasn’t horny, it got accidentally deep—like two sleep-deprived idiots trying to figure out the meaning of life between memes and finger-smash typing.

You:

do u ever wonder what we’d be like if we met in real life?

or would we combust instantly?

You barely had time to brace for whatever ridiculous answer that would get when your phone buzzed again—this time from a different notification.

From Ellie.

You blinked at the name—Ellie, already saved in your phone—and still typed:

You:

who is this?

Ellie:

It’s Ellie. From school.

A faint smirk tugged at your lips.

You:

i know

Ellie:

Just wanted to let you know I’m starting the draft for our project. It’s nothing serious, just bullet points. I figured I’d organize ideas before Monday.

You stared at her message, already smiling.

You:

you couldn’t tell me that earlier in class??

Ellie:

I didn’t think of it until now.

Also I'm still awake, so.

You:

why r u still up anyway ?

Ellie:

I wanted to be productive while the ideas were still fresh.

You snorted.

You:

nerd.

Ellie:

Sure.

You paused, glancing at your other chat. E hadn’t replied yet. Your thumb hovered, tempted to double text.

But right before you did—

E:

sorry went blank for a sec i was picturing how u say my name in a whisper lol anyway what were we even talking about

You laughed out loud, the sound muffled into your pillow.

You:

do u want me dead

E:

yes but like sexily

Another buzz.

Ellie:

Let me know if you’d rather read the notes now or wait for Monday. Either way works.

You laid your phone on your chest for a second, staring at the ceiling. One of them wanted to die at your hands. The other was politely offering to share bullet points at 3AM.

And just like that—when you’re happy, when it’s fun—time moved stupidly fast.

The hallway pulsed with the usual Monday mess—shuffling sneakers, lockers clanging shut, someone already yelling, and of course, that one kid running like it’s a sport.

You felt obnoxiously good for a Monday. The kind of good that only came from two straight days of texting someone who made your brain feel like soda bubbles. You were still carrying a smile that hadn’t fully faded since 3AM.

You suddenly spotted Ellie.

Standing at her locker, blue flannel shrugged over her usual black tee, one side of her hair still sleep-creased. Headphones rested around her neck. She looked a little worn—like sleep hadn’t been a priority. Like someone who’d stayed up too late doing something they didn’t regret.

You didn’t stop walking. Just drifted right up beside her locker, leaned against the one next to it like you had all the time in the world.

She didn’t look at you at first—just shifted her books with one hand, nudging her sketchpad into place. Her fingers lingered at the edge of a notebook you knew too well now. The one she said she started drafting in.

Finally, a glance. Quick and dry.

Then a sigh.

You smirked at her reaction. Tilted your head like you were observing something mildly amusing.

“So,” you said. “How was your weekend?”

Ellie didn’t answer right away. Just reached deeper into the locker like she was debating throwing herself inside it.

“Quiet,” she said without looking at you.

You raised your brows. “That’s it?”

She shoved a pencil case into her bag and shut the locker with a dull thud. “What do you want me to say? I spent it drafting our project.”

You leaned in slightly, voice lowering. “Mm. So productive.”

She rolled her eyes. “I can’t help it if you’re easily impressed.”

“Who said I was impressed?” you shot back, one brow raised. “I’m just asking.”

Ellie adjusted the strap of her guitar case on her shoulder, finally meeting your eyes. “Right. You’re just asking. Because you care deeply about how I spent my weekend.”

You shrugged, unfazed. “Maybe I do.”

That got you a blink. A pause. Her gaze flicked over your face—just for a second too long.

You smiled, all teeth.

“Wanna guess how I spent mine?”

Ellie didn’t say anything—just glanced away, too fast to be casual.

You tapped the locker with your knuckles, straightened up slowly. “See you in class, Williams.”

And with that, you walked off and didn’t look back.

But if you had, you might’ve caught the exact moment Ellie muttered under her breath—barely audible over the hallway noise.

“Jesus Christ.”

You slipped into your usual seat, still warm from your walk through the halls and encounter with Ellie. One of your friends tossed a lazy “hey,” but you barely glanced up—already pulling your phone out, screen lighting up with that soft blue glow.

You:

wakey wakey

i’m already in class

don’t blame me again if you end up being late, poet

Your grin was immediate. Unchecked. You bit it back behind your palm, thumbs still hovering when someone cleared their throat right beside you.

You looked up.

Ellie.

You didn’t hide your expression—still smiling like a dumbass, phone in hand.

“Yeah?” you asked, one brow raised.

She was holding out the notebook. The one she told you about. She didn’t quite meet your eyes.

“Just—here,” she muttered, placing it down in front of you.

Your gaze dropped to the familiar cover, then back to her.

You smiled wider. “Thanks. I’ll look over it later.”

She nodded, quiet. “Cool.”

She turned without another word and made her way to her own seat. You tapped the corner of the notebook with your fingers, still smiling.

Your phone buzzed.

E:

why are u like this

i was gonna be late but now i’m getting up just to annoy u

also maybe to see what u look like in class all smug and pretty

You pressed your lips together, trying not to laugh.

You:

haha u wish

i wish u were my classmate for real tho

i can only think of many things 👀

E:

what things ??

You:

idk

maybe like… we’d be seatmates

and i wouldn’t wear any undies on purpose

Three dots appeared immediately. It vanished and came back again.

E:

ok well. i just flatlined in my desk chair.

thanks a lot

You:

just trying to motivate u to get to school on time

E:

I'M ALREADY AT SCHOOL BRUH

i am not responsible for the thoughts i’m having rn

You grinned, legs curled up in your chair, heart stupidly light.

You:

am i making u…?

right now?

Another pause.

Typing..

E:

ma’am this is a public institution

You:

answer the question :)

E:

let’s just say i’m sitting very still rn

and ur going to hell. congrats.

You bit back another grin so hard your cheeks hurt.

You:

worth it.

E:

i hate u

Your thumb hovered over the screen, still smiling like a complete idiot as the bell rang.

You:

ur really gonna hate me when i say

i’m not even wearing a bra rn

E:

YOU’RE A MENACE

i hope you’re proud of yourself for what you're doing to me

You:

just a little

E:

really huh

if i were ur seatmate

i’d sit too close

thighs touching, shoulder to shoulder

and i’d keep dropping my pen just to bend down and grab it

and yk

You:

AND I KNOW WHAT?

GO ON I BEG U

okay actually u don’t need to

because i already am..

E:

good.

that’s what you deserve.

you wanna play? let’s play.

You:

worth it again

every damn single time

Your phone buzzed again, and you bit back another grin.

E:

UR INSANE

You:

okay well tytl nerd

class starts

but thank u i guess for giving me something to think about while i touch myself tonight

or maybe right after this class ;)

Time blurred.

Class, lunch, class again—standard Monday drag. Nothing special. Just the usual shuffle between subjects and half-awake conversations that barely counted as human interaction.

Now, you were in the library for your last period. Final class of the day. The room was quiet in that stiff, almost sacred way libraries get—like if you breathed too loud, someone would smite you.

Ms. Alvarez, who walked in balancing a thick binder and a tired expression. She barely made it past the first five minutes before clearing her throat and announcing, “Alright, class. I have a faculty meeting in ten. You’re allowed to continue working on your project in pairs, but you must stay in the classroom or within school premises. No one leaves early. Understood?”

You were sitting across from Ellie. She was fully immersed in whatever she was typing on her laptop—jaw tight, brows drawn, fingers moving like she was coding national security protocols instead of organizing character arcs.

You tried to match her energy for a grand total of three minutes before your attention span gave out completely.

Your gaze dropped to the window. From the second-floor view, you could see a couple of students loitering around the quad, stretched out across benches and grass. Someone was dramatically eating a banana. You didn’t know why that annoyed you.

Without thinking, you reached for your phone.

One unread message.

E:

WHAT THE FUCK

IF UR GOING TO TELL ME SOMETHING LIKE THAT IN CLASS AT LEAST LET ME WATCH

FOR COMPENSATION

jk

but yes?

You bit your lip hard—so hard it almost hurt—not wanting to smile in front of Ellie. You slipped the phone away like it burned, then reached toward her side of the table.

She didn’t look up when you slid her notebook over, flipping straight to the page.

Possible Story Structure – v1.0

You stared at it for a beat. Then made a face.

“This is so boring,” you muttered.

Ellie kept typing. “Don’t start.”

“I’m serious. This is criminal. Look at this—no dramatic kisses? No one cries? This is actual villain behavior.”

“They’re just notes,” she said without looking up.

“They’re rules. And they suck.”

“They’re guidelines,” she corrected, finally glancing your way. “And they exist because someone—you—suggested glitter-induced closet sex as a turning point.”

“And yet, you wrote it down.”

Ellie sighed through her nose. “So you’d shut up.”

You jabbed your pen at the “Maybe a forehead touch??” line. “This. Right here. What is this. This is loser behavior.”

“It’s called restraint.”

You let out the fakest gasp imaginable. “Loser and pretentious.”

Ellie leaned back in her chair, folding her arms. “You want them crying in the rain after a juice box incident.”

“Because that’s real storytelling, Ellie.”

“You literally renamed the central conflict The Tragic Juice Box Betrayal of 7th Grade.”

“It was a betrayal. And it was orange. It stained. It’s metaphorical. You just don't understand.”

You were staring back at each other.

You leaned forward just a little. “Also, I know you sketched the supply closet scene in the margin of your algebra notebook.”

“That was a box,” she said flatly. “It was a literal box.”

“Sure,” you said, unconvinced.

Ellie pinched the bridge of her nose like she was trying to summon patience from another plane of existence.

“You’re impossible,” she muttered.

“You’re just repressed.”

She blinked. “Says the girl blushing at her phone two minutes ago.”

You froze.

Ellie tilted her head, a little too smug. “Hmm?”

You cleared your throat. “That’s classified.”

She smirked—barely. “Suspicious.”

You slid the notebook back toward her. “Fix your outline before I submit a new draft with a title you won't really like.”

She rolled her eyes casually, shaking her head as she went back to her laptop.

You leaned back in your chair—annoyed, stretching a little before grabbing your phone again—this time not even pretending to be sneaky about it.

Ellie didn’t look up, but you could feel her noticing.

You opened your chat with E, thumb already moving.

You:

i’m literally sitting across from the most insufferable person alive

she’s so bossy and uptight and acts like she’s above dramatic plotlines

like okay sorry i want EMOTION in my fake scenarios??? sue me???

she actually said “restraint” like it was a flex. loser behavior actually.

You smirked, shot a glance up, then kept typing.

You:

also she keeps pretending she didn’t sketch the closet scene

it was OBVIOUSLY not just a box

You huffed quietly, shifting in your seat. Ellie was still typing—completely zoned in, not looking at you.

You looked back down at your screen.

You:

she’s doing that thing again

getting all serious like we’re submitting this to sundance

like relax. it’s two fictional lesbians and a tragic juice box. let me work.

You paused for a beat, then kept going.

You:

WHATEVER

idk. don’t wanna argue about it

i just wanna talk to you

remember what i said before about making out in the nonfiction aisle?

i’m here at the library ;)

i can imagine our kiss

HOT

i'll have you finger me 'till I cum and my legs shake

and we go back to class like nothing happened

You stared at the message for a second, then laughed under your breath and set your phone down on the table, face-down. You suddenly felt silly—teasing, sure, but also a little giddy. Like you were getting away with something. Especially with Ellie right in front of you, looking like the literal opposite of whatever that text had just suggested.

She was still focused. Still typing. Her MacBook open, her hand flicking her pen across the margins of her notebook. The light hit her rings again. She was chewing her bottom lip.

You grabbed your pen and started doodling in the corner of your notes. Hearts, stars, little lesbian stick figures making out beside bookshelves.

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught something—Ellie’s posture had shifted. Her brow furrowed deeper, her eyes narrowed at the screen.

Then she bit her lip again, harder this time. Her hand came up, fingers scratching just above her eyebrow like she was trying to stay grounded. Her expression pinched for a second—like she was trying to keep her face neutral and failing.

You glanced out the window instead. Golden light, slow-moving clouds. You imagined E, imagined her standing on the other side of this table, all smirking confidence and chaos. You smiled to yourself, tapping your pen twice before reaching back for your phone.

Still no reply.

You frowned a little. Refreshed the app. Nothing.

Right then, Ellie stood up.

You looked up immediately. “Where are you going?”

She didn’t meet your eyes. Just grabbed the edge of her chair like she needed to move. “Getting a book,” she muttered, already walking.

You blinked, confused. “You already have like, four.”

She didn’t answer and just walked off. You watched her disappear down the aisle, your phone still in your hand.Still no message from E.

The empty screen felt louder than it should’ve.

A few minutes passed. Ellie didn’t come back.

You tapped your fingers once against the table, then got up, quietly making your way until the nonfiction aidle, farthest row in the back, where no one really went.

You found her there, tucked at the very end of the aisle, half-hidden behind the shelves. She was leaning slightly against them, phone in hand, her eyes fixed on the screen—expression unreadable, but her ears flushed just a little too pink to ignore.

She didn’t notice you right away.

But the second she did, she quickly lowered her phone and reached for a nearby book, flipping it open like she’d been studying the whole time.

You raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything.

Instead, you glanced at the shelves around you, trying not to smile—because of course it had to be this aisle. The same one you’d texted E about, half-joking, half-not.

“What’s funny?” Ellie asked without looking up, now looking so serious.

“Nothing,” you said, too fast.

“Really?” Her tone was dry, eyes still on the page.

You grabbed a random book from the shelf and flipped it open. “I just remembered something.”

“Uh huh.” She said it flatly, like she didn’t buy it.

You sighed and rolled your eyes. But you didn’t answer her. Just turned another page, pretending to read.

Ellie shifted beside you, thumbing through her own book.

“What are you even doing in the nonfiction aisle?” you asked, still not looking up. “It’s not like we’re writing nonfiction.”

She didn’t miss a beat. “Well, actually… sometimes good fiction pulls from nonfiction. Real stories. Background stuff. It makes things feel more grounded.”

You peeked over the edge of your book. “Okay, nerd.”

She shrugged. “Just saying.”

You didn’t respond, but your thoughts were anything but neutral.

Okay sorry I'm just here because I’ve been thinking about making out with someone against these shelves for three days straight.

You stared down at the page—something about memory and neural pathways—but none of it stuck.

Your mouth twitched into a grin again. E’s dumb chaotic message echoed in your head.

You couldn’t wait to talk to her again tonight.

You glanced up.

Ellie was still there, head tilted slightly, lips parted in concentration, bathed in soft afternoon light spilling through the high windows.

She looked unreal. Sharp in some ways. Gentle in others.

She wasn’t even trying. Her flannel sleeves were rolled up to her elbows, and her hair was half-messy like she’d forgotten to fix it after leaning against her hand too long. A strand curled near her cheek. Her rings caught the light again when she shifted the book. And her mouth—soft, slightly parted as she read—moved just a little when she wet her lips without thinking.

“Actually…” you started, voice light. “Can I ask you something?”

Ellie didn’t look up. “What?”

You waited a beat. “Have you ever thought about making out with someone in the library?”

That got her attention.

Her head lifted slowly, like she wasn’t sure she heard you right. “What?”

You grinned. Tilted your head. “I mean—have you ever thought about it? Like. Right here. This exact aisle.”

Ellie blinked once. “Do you mean making out with someone who’s… here in the library?”

Her voice had a weird edge. Something unreadable.

You scoffed, playful. “No. Just—like. Making out with someone in a library. Someone you like. A girl or whatever.”

She blinked again. Then scoffed lightly, like you’re ridiculous.

“No.”

You frowned. “Why not?”

She leaned her shoulder against the shelf. “Why would I make out with someone here?” she said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “It’s the library.”

You rolled your eyes. “Okay, well—where would you bring them if you wanted to make out with them?”

That made her pause.

You watched her carefully.

She stared at you, then down at the book in your hands.

“You’re impossible,” she muttered.

You grinned. “That’s not an answer.”

She sighed and turned the page, trying to ignore you. “Not everyone makes out in public places, you know.”

“Yeah,” you said, shutting your book and letting it hang at your side. “But it’s fun to think about.”

She looked at you again.

“And you think about it a lot?” she asked, voice casual—but not quite.

“Yeah.” You shrugged. “I do.” You added, a smirk playing in your lips.

Ellie exhaled slowly, her eyes flicking up to your face—and lingering. You could almost feel her gaze pause on your mouth for a second too long.

Then she shook her head, barely, like she was trying to snap herself out of it.

Without another word, she turned and walked off, heading back toward your table with quick, quiet steps—like she needed to leave before she did something she’d regret.

tag list:

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[cosmiclily]

teehee hii again - i noticed that u had a caitlyn request and omg do i have requests 🤭

im thinking ofc x fem reader, could u do like university or college?? some sorta sport element amddd here's the best bit. caitlyn after training every morning and ungodly hours goes to this coffee house and every morning, there's this cute girl barista who takes her order and it gets to the point that she has her order ready for her already. and Caitlyn is smooth and flirty and barista is like flirty but more shy. ok one more thing - they would exchange socials and like and comment on stories and posts. THANK YOU SO MUCHHHH your fics acct make my day i love youuu

💐 - some flowers

morning shift (derogatory)

✰ caitlyn x f!reader

wc: 4.8k

notes: i’ve been trying to post this for AGES, the app kept crashing and my computer wasn’t turning on 😭😭😭 how have you guys been?

Getting the morning shift and having to wake up at five in the morning was far from ideal. In fact, it was the last thing you ever wanted to do. Dragging yourself out of bed, forcing yourself into the shower, and getting dressed while barely conscious was pure torture. You didn’t just feel like a zombie—you looked like one too.

But all of that became worth it the moment she walked into the coffee shop.

A goddess in tiny training shorts, a jacket so tight it perfectly accentuated her waist, and legs that seemed to go on forever. Every morning, like clockwork, she’d rush in, order her stupid green juice and iced americano, and somehow make suffering through the early shift feel like a blessing.

You would take this shift for the rest of your life if it meant getting to see her.

And today, just like every other morning, Caitlyn Kiramman strolled in, hair slightly messy from her run, cheeks flushed from the cold. But what really sent a jolt through your sleep-deprived body was the way her lips curled into a teasing smile as she approached the counter.

“Good morning,” she said, leaning against the counter ever so slightly. “The usual, please. And maybe… a smile from my favorite barista?”

You nearly choked on your own breath.

A smile? From her favorite barista?

You scrambled to plaster the biggest, most natural-looking smile on your face (which, given the ungodly hour, wasn't easy). “Of course,” you said smoothly, ignoring how your heart was now hammering in your chest. “That’ll cost you extra, though.”

Caitlyn chuckled, handing over her money, her fingers brushing against yours for a second too long to be an accident. “Worth it.”

She took a seat at her usual table, and as she walked away, you shamelessly let your eyes trail after her, taking in the way those tiny shorts hugged her ass perfectly.

“You should just give her your number, you know?” your coworker commented, picking up a cup beside you. “She comes in every day, flirts with you, and you just stand there grinning like an idiot. Write your number on her cup. Do something.It’s getting a little pathetic.”

You scoffed, shaking your head as you started preparing her drink. “Caitlyn Kiramman is way out of my league. I’m nothing but a mere mortal in her goddess realm.”

Your coworker snorted. “Okay, poet, but have you considered that maybe—just maybe—she likes her coffee a little more than usual because of the person making it?”

That made you pause for a split second before you shook it off. No way. There was no chance in hell that Caitlyn Kiramman—beautiful, confident, rich Caitlyn Kiramman—would ever look twice at you.

So, as always, you just wrote one of your cheesy pickup lines on her cup, adding a little smiley face next to it, and went on with your day like it didn’t mean anything.

You went to class, dozed off between lectures, ate lunch half-aware of your surroundings, and then finally made your way home, exhausted. But even as you lay in bed, you couldn’t stop yourself from replaying your morning interaction with Caitlyn. The way her fingers had brushed against yours, the way she smiled when she read your note—was it just your sleep-deprived brain making things up, or was there something there?

The next morning, there you were again. Five a.m., standing under the shower, letting the warm water run over you as you took the slowest shower of your life. Your mind was occupied with one thing and one thing only—what line you were going to scribble on Caitlyn’s cup today. And, if you were being completely honest, a tiny part of you was also daydreaming about what outfit she’d be wearing.

Would it be the black shorts today? Or maybe the navy blue ones that hugged her just right? Would she zip up her jacket, or would you get a glimpse of the tight sports bra underneath?

You shook your head, forcing yourself back to reality and going to work. You need help.

For some unknown reason, you felt extra antsy today. Your stomach was fluttering in a way that had nothing to do with hunger, and the anticipation was getting to you. So when the clock hit 6:45, you automatically started making Caitlyn’s drinks, your hands moving on autopilot. You blended her green juice, strained it, and set up the coffee to brew, wondering if today she would actually stick to her usual order or throw you off by asking for something different.

“What are you doing?” your coworker asked, staring at you like you had lost your mind. The coffee shop was empty, the lights still dim, and not a single customer had walked in yet.

“Making Caitlyn’s drinks” you replied simply.

They frowned. “Uh… there’s no one in line.”

“She comes in at seven sharp every morning,” you explained casually, still focused on your task. “It takes me 10 minutes to blend and strain her juice and for the coffee to finish brewing. That leaves me with five minutes to think of something to write and cup her drinks so they’re still fresh.”

You said it like it was nothing. Like it was a perfectly logical, totally normal thing to be this dedicated to one customer’s order.

Your coworker just stared at you for a long moment before sighing, shaking their head. “You’re crazy, you know that, right?”

You shrugged, pouring the freshly brewed coffee into a cup. “If this is crazy, I don’t want to be sane.”

They snorted, rolling their eyes. “Alright, Romeo, at this point, you might as well just ask her out.”

You scoffed, shaking your head. “Yeah, right.”

But then, at exactly 7 a.m., there she was.

Earbuds in, navy blue jacket, black shorts, high ponytail—looking like she had just stepped out of a magazine. She had that effortless kind of beauty, the kind that made the world slow down for a second, the kind that made you forget how exhausted you were.

You barely had time to compose yourself before she was standing in front of the register, and you forced your brain to function.

“Good morning, the usual?” you asked, maybe a little too eagerly, but could anyone blame you?

Caitlyn pulled out her earbuds, flashing you that smile that had you questioning every life decision you had ever made. “Certainly a good morning now that I saw you.”

Your brain short-circuited.

Did she—did she just say—?

“And yes, please, the usual,” she added casually, as if she hadn’t just dropped that line like it was nothing.

You scrambled to punch in her order, hoping she didn’t notice the heat creeping up your neck. “Right—yeah, coming right up.”

As you handed her the cups, her fingers brushed against yours again, and this time, you swore she did it on purpose. She glanced at the side of the cup, reading the little note you had scribbled there:

Are you French? Because Eiffel for you.

A soft chuckle left her lips, and she shook her head, amused. “This one was bad.”

You grinned. “But did it work?”

She looked up at you, something playful in her gaze. “Maybe.”

And with that, she took her drinks and walked to her usual table, leaving you standing there, gripping the register like it was the only thing keeping you upright.

Your coworker, who had been watching the entire interaction with barely concealed amusement, leaned in. “So, uh… still think she’s out of your league?”

You swallowed hard, eyes still on Caitlyn as she sipped her coffee, her lips curled into a smirk.

Yeah. You were so screwed.

──────────────────────

On a random Thursday night, just as you were winding down and nearly ready for bed, your phone pinged with a notification.

@CKiramman followed you.

You stared at your screen like it had just grown a second head.

For a moment, you thought you were seeing things. Maybe your sleep-deprived brain was playing tricks on you. But no—the notification was real. You picked up your phone, unlocked it, and there it was. Caitlyn Kiramman had actually followed you on Instagram.

Your heart was hammering in your chest as you clicked on her profile. Her account wasn’t private, which meant you could see everything—pictures from her morning runs, candid shots of her with friends, a few elegant photos from what looked like fancy Galas (because, of course, she was that kind of rich), and even a couple of casual selfies. You scrolled down absently, then snapped yourself out of it.

Focus.

Had she searched for you? Did she somehow already know your name? Or—your stomach flipped—had she actually been interested enough to ask someone?

Before you could spiral too much, another notification popped up.

@CKiramman liked your photo.

And not just any photo.

One from three months ago.

Your eyes widened. Oh, she scrolled.

Your mind raced. Should you message her? Follow her back? Ignore it and pretend you weren’t currently gripping your phone like your life depended on it?

Before you could decide, another message appeared.

Caitlyn Kiramman: So, are you ever going to give me your number, or do I have to keep deciphering bad pickup lines on my coffee cups?

Your mouth fell open.

Holy. Shit.

You stared at the message, your brain short-circuiting.

Caitlyn Kiramman had followed you, stalked your profile, liked an old photo, and now she was flirting with you in your messages.

What alternate universe had you fallen into?

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard, but every possible response sounded either too eager or too indifferent. You needed something cool, something casual—something that didn’t scream I’ve been lowkey in love with you since the first time you walked into my coffee shop in tiny shorts.

After what felt like an eternity (but was actually 37 seconds, not that you were counting), you finally typed back:

You: You decipher them? I thought you just rolled your eyes and ignored my genius.

The little “typing” bubble appeared almost instantly.

Caitlyn Kiramman: Oh, don’t get me wrong. Some of them are truly awful. But they’re entertaining.

You grinned.

You: That bad, huh? Should I start charging extra for the comedy?

Caitlyn Kiramman: I think you’ve already overcharged me. Every morning I walk in expecting just coffee, and instead, I leave with a new terrible joke and a distraction for the rest of the day.

Your heart did an actual flip.

You stared at her message, rereading it at least five times before you processed what she was saying. A distraction for the rest of the day? Was she serious? Was she just teasing? Was Caitlyn Kiramman really implying that she thought about youafter she left?

Before you could think too hard about it, another message popped up.

Caitlyn Kiramman: So? Are you going to give me your number, or do I have to find another way to keep myself entertained?

You exhaled sharply, fingers shaking slightly as you typed back:

You: Wouldn’t want you to suffer without my daily wisdom. (xxx-xxx-xxxx) Use it wisely.

Within seconds, another notification popped up.

Unknown Number: Now I can finally place my coffee orders in advance.

Unknown Number: Also, I might use it for other things.

You swallowed hard, rereading her message.

Other things.

Yeah. You were so screwed. And maybe just a little bit in love.

──────────────────────

To say you spent the whole night texting Caitlyn would be an understatement. The conversation flowed effortlessly, jumping from topic to topic until you realized it was waaaay past your bed time. She told you about her upcoming track competition, and somewhere in the middle of it, she casually invited you to come cheer her on. (Which, obviously, you accepted before she even finished asking.)

By the time morning rolled around, you were running on fumes—more tired than usual, but weirdly, it didn’t matter. Because today, you weren’t just going to see Caitlyn from behind the coffee counter. You were actually going to talk to her and that alone had your energy levels shooting up to a hundred.

So, naturally, you got extra ready.

You actually took your time in the mirror, making sure you looked good. Not that Caitlyn had ever seen you at your best before (you were always half-dead on your morning shifts), but today was different. Today, you wanted to impress her.

And apparently, it showed.

“Okay, where’s the event?” your coworker asked the second you clocked in, giving you a once-over. “And why do you look nice today?”

“Oh, nothing…” you said, trying to sound casual as you adjusted your apron. “Just, you know… Caitlyn Kiramman not only followed me, stalked my profile, liked a picture from three months ago, but also slid into my DMs… and I gave her my number.”

Your coworker froze.

Then, in the most dramatic way possible, they grabbed your shoulders and shook you. “WHAT?”

You laughed, swatting them away. “I’m serious.”

They gawked at you. “You mean Caitlyn Kiramman—the woman you’ve been hopelessly crushing on for months—the actual goddess who walks in here every morning—is now texting you?”

“Yep.”

“And flirting with you?”

“Seems like it.”

They stared at you for another second before groaning. “Oh my God. I take back everything I said. You’re not pathetic. You’re a legend.”

You smirked, grabbing a cup as you started prepping Caitlyn’s usual drinks. “Glad you finally see it.”

Your coworker sighed dramatically. “You better not mess this up.”

“I have no plans to, thank you very much.”

But then… 7 a.m. hit. And Caitlyn didn’t show up.

7:10. Nothing.

7:30. Still nothing.

Your excitement started to deflate just a little. You glanced at the door between customers, waiting for that familiar navy blue high ponytail to appear, but the minutes kept ticking by, and your carefully prepared drinks were sitting there untouched.

By 7:40, the juice had turned an unsettling shade of green, and the ice in the Americano had completely melted. With a sigh, you had no choice but to dump them out.

Just as you were starting to wonder if maybe last night had been some weird dream, at exactly 7:46, she rushed in.

Cheeks flushed, hair slightly messy, breathing a little heavier—Caitlyn Kiramman looked… flustered.

And God, if that wasn’t the cutest thing you’d ever seen.

The line was long—the morning rush just starting—so she had to wait her turn, and when she finally reached the front, she immediately leaned in, looking at you with something close to guilt.

“I’m so sorry,” she blurted out, shaking her head at herself. “I overslept for the first time in my life. Which, by the way, is very unusual for me.”

You raised an eyebrow, suppressing a grin. “You? Oversleeping? That is unusual.”

She groaned, covering her face for a second before peeking at you through her fingers. “I know. And I feel terrible. 7 a.m. is our unofficial meeting time, and I—” She stopped mid-sentence, realizing what she just said. Her eyes widened slightly, and she bit her lip.

Your smirk grew. “Oh? Our unofficial meeting time?”

Caitlyn blinked. Then, instead of backtracking, she straightened her posture, tilting her head slightly. “Yes,” she said, completely serious. “Our meeting time. And I broke it. Which means I need to make it up to you somehow.”

You leaned on the counter, amused. “Oh yeah? And how do you plan on doing that?”

She hummed, pretending to think about it before giving you a small smirk. “Well, for starters… I’ll let you pick my drink today.”

You blinked. “Wait, what?”

“I don’t think I want the usual,” she said casually, resting her elbows on the counter. “What do you recommend? I want to try something new.”

You stared at her for a second. Caitlyn had been ordering the same thing every morning since the day you met her. Now she was just… trusting you to pick something for her?

“Oh wow,” you said, placing a hand on your chest mockingly. “This is a big responsibility. What if I mess it up?”

She grinned. “Then I guess I’ll just have to punish you.”

You choked on your own saliva.

Caitlyn laughed, absolutely delighted by your reaction. “Relax,” she teased, her voice dropping just a little lower. “I just meant I’d make you remake it if it’s terrible.”

You swallowed hard, regaining whatever composure you had left. “Right. Of course. That’s what you meant.”

She winked. “Obviously.”

──────────────────────

After that, your routine changed.

At exactly 7 a.m., Caitlyn would walk in, looking effortlessly gorgeous, and instead of ordering her usual, she’d lean on the counter and ask, “What’s on the menu today?”

And every morning, you’d surprise her with something new. A different coffee, a new kind of tea, a random experimental drink that sometimes turned out great and sometimes… not so much. (She still drank them, though—grinning at you over the rim of her cup like she secretly enjoyed watching you squirm.)

You spent as much time talking as the morning rush allowed, stealing moments between customers, exchanging teasing glances, and sharing stories that made the mundane mornings feel electric.

And then there were the texts.

At first, they were casual—updates on her day, comments on whatever drink you’d made for her, the occasional complaint about a professor or a late-night craving for coffee. But soon, they became… constant.

Messages during lunch. During her breaks. Late at night when you were both too stubborn to sleep.

You talked about everything.

Her childhood. Your family. Her ridiculous rich-person hobbies (which, yes, included knowing how to shoot, for some bizarre reason). The names of her childhood dogs. The fact that she still slept with a ridiculous amount of pillows.

There were no awkward pauses, no forced conversations. Just endless back-and-forth banter, teasing, and something elselingering between the words that neither of you addressed.

Until one night, when your phone buzzed with a notification:

Cait 💙: So, when are you going to ask me out on a proper date? Or do I have to do everything in this relationship?

You blinked.

Stared.

Read it again.

You: Relationship?

The little typing bubble appeared instantly.

Cait 💙: Oh, my bad. Did you think all this was just friendly customer service?

You gawked at your screen.

Was she serious? Was she just teasing? Was this a test?

You: I mean… technically, I do give excellent customer service.

Cait 💙: Uh-huh. And do you text all your customers at midnight?

You: Only the pretty ones.

You hesitated for half a second before hitting send.

And then, before you could panic about that message, she replied:

Cait 💙: So just me, then.

You: Yeah. Just you.

The typing bubble appeared again.

Then it stopped.

Then it started again.

Your heart was practically in your throat.

Cait 💙: Friday. 8 p.m. I’m picking you up. Wear something cute.

──────────────────────

You could not wait for Friday.

And, apparently, the universe had something against you, because the week felt twice as long as usual.

Every hour dragged. Every class felt like a never-ending lecture. Every shift at work felt excruciatingly slow, even with Caitlyn still dropping by at 7 a.m. sharp, flashing you that smug little smirk like she knew you were impatiently counting down the days.

By Friday afternoon, you had done everything you could possibly do to make time pass faster.

Assignments? Finished.

Room? Spotless.

Laundry? Folded.

At one point, you even considered reorganizing your entire closet just to keep yourself busy. But no matter what you did, 8 p.m. refused to get any closer.

You were convinced that if given a few more hours, you could probably find the cure for cancer before the time for your date actually arrived.

You sat up, swinging your legs over the side of the bed. Maybe you needed to redo your hair. Or change outfits. You thought you looked good, but what if the lighting in your room had deceived you?

You rushed to the mirror, checking yourself for the tenth time. You turned to the side, then to the other, scrutinizing every detail.

Your outfit was good. Really good. You had picked something that made you feel confident, something that you knew Caitlyn would like. (Not that you had memorized her favorite colors or anything. That would be insane. Definitely not something you had done.)

Your hair? Also fine. Your face? Fine.

So why the hell did you feel like a mess?

You groaned, flopping onto your back dramatically. “I’m gonna die before 8 p.m.,” you mumbled to no one in particular.

Your phone buzzed.

You launched yourself up, grabbing it instantly.

Cait 💙: Excited?

You bit your lip, debating how to answer. Be cool. Be casual. Don’t let her know you’ve been losing your mind all day.

You: Meh. It’s just a date. Not like I’ve been counting down the minutes or anything.

Cait 💙: You’re terrible at lying.

You scoffed, shaking your head.

You: Am not.

Cait 💙: Mhm. Keep telling yourself that.

You rolled your eyes, smiling despite yourself.

Cait 💙: I’ll be there in 30. Be ready, sweetheart.

Suddenly, your heart was pounding.

Oh. Oh, shit.

This was real.

You were going on a date with Caitlyn tonight.

──────────────────────

Caitlyn picked you up in a sleek, undeniably fancy car. You had no idea what kind it was—cars weren’t exactly your thing—but it looked expensive and smelled like it had never known a day of spilled coffee or fast food wrappers.

But the car was the last thing on your mind.

Because Caitlyn? Caitlyn looked gorgeous.

Her usual high ponytail was gone, replaced with loose waves that framed her face perfectly. She wore a crisp white button-down shirt, sleeves rolled up just enough to show off her forearms, paired with tailored black slacks and shiny loafers that somehow made her legs look even longer. She was all elegance and confidence—and yet, when she smiled at you, there was still that warmth, that sparkle that made your chest flutter.

“You look… wow,” you said as you slid into the passenger seat, your voice almost caught in your throat.

Caitlyn glanced at you, lips tugging into a knowing smile. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”

You laughed softly, your nerves settling a little as the car pulled smoothly out of your driveway. “Is this where you tell me we’re going somewhere casual and I’m overdressed?”

She grinned. “Nope. I figured we could both use a night out somewhere a little extra.”

“Well, mission accomplished,” you said, glancing over at her again. “You’re dangerously close to making me forget how to form coherent sentences.”

She smirked, eyes still on the road. “That’s the goal.”

You turned to the window, smiling like an idiot, cheeks burning just a little. How was this your life right now?

“How was your day?” Caitlyn asked after a moment, her voice softer now, more intimate—like the initial flirty spark had melted into something quieter and warmer.

You told her about your shift, your overly nosy coworker, and the old lady who insisted that oat milk was a government conspiracy meant to destroy traditional dairy farming. Caitlyn laughed, the sound bubbling out of her so naturally, like she was genuinely enjoying every second with you. And maybe she was.

The conversation flowed effortlessly on the drive to the restaurant—Caitlyn had finally caved and told you where you were going after a little playful prodding—and when you arrived, your jaw nearly hit the floor.

The place was fancy. Not just candlelight-and-linen-napkins fancy, but the kind of fancy where the valet wore white gloves, and the front of the menu didn’t even have prices.

You stepped out of the car slowly, glancing up at the glowing sign and the perfectly manicured entryway. Suddenly, the outfit you had spent hours choosing didn’t feel like quite enough. You smoothed your hands over your clothes and swallowed hard, a flicker of anxiety settling in your chest.

You knew Caitlyn had money. That was never a mystery—everything about her practically whispered old money and prestige. But standing outside this restaurant, with her looking like she’d walked out of a fashion editorial and you feeling like you didn’t quite belong, you couldn’t help the quiet question that crept into your mind:

What does she even see in me?

Caitlyn stepped beside you, noticing the way you hesitated. She gently touched your hand, her fingers brushing yours. “Hey,” she said, catching your eye. “You okay?”

You nodded a little too quickly. “Yeah, just… wasn’t expecting a place like this.”

She tilted her head, her expression softening. “I wanted to take you somewhere special. Not to impress you—just… because I think you deserve something special.”

You blinked at her, your heart doing something traitorous in your chest.

“And for the record,” she added, leaning in just slightly, like she was reading your mind, “you belong exactly here. With me.”

──────────────────────

After that first moment of insecurity, everything fell into place. It didn’t matter that you weren’t used to places like this. It didn’t matter that you felt underdressed or that you had to quietly Google a few words on the menu under the table. None of it mattered, because Caitlyn made you feel welcome—seen. Like you belonged not just at her table, but with her.

She didn’t look at you like you were out of place. She looked at you like you were the only thing in the room worth paying attention to. Every smile, every glance, every gentle brush of her hand across yours grounded you. And with her, this fancy restaurant didn’t feel so intimidating anymore—it felt like a memory you’d want to replay a hundred times.

“So,” Caitlyn said, casually sipping her wine, “I have a track competition coming up—I think I told you about it?”

You nodded, already smiling. “Yeah, you mentioned it.”

“Well, I’d really like you to come,” she said, her voice a little more tentative, like the invitation mattered more than she wanted to admit.

“Oh, I’ll definitely be there,” you grinned. “Front row. With a giant glittery sign that says ‘#1 Caitlyn Fan.’ Maybe I’ll even wear a matching tracksuit.”

She laughed, leaning back in her seat. “Please do. I want pictures.”

“Careful what you wish for,” you teased. “I’m not above going full cheerleader mode.”

She raised an eyebrow, a playful spark in her eyes. “Now that’s something I need to see.”

You leaned in slightly, resting your elbow on the table and tilting your head. “Oh yeah? You fantasize about me in a crop top and pom-poms, Kiramman?”

Caitlyn didn’t miss a beat. “Only every night.”

You nearly choked on your drink, laughter spilling from your lips as she smirked. “You’re dangerous.”

“I’ve been told,” she replied, her voice dropping just enough to make your heart skip. “But you seem brave.”

You stared at her, all trace of joking fading for a beat. Warmth settled in your chest, creeping up your neck. She was looking at you in that way again—the kind that made everything else disappear.

“God, you’re beautiful,” you whispered before your brain could stop your mouth.

Caitlyn’s smile softened. “So are you,” she said, her voice low and honest.

The air between the two of you shifted instantly, thick with something unspoken. Your heart thudded in your chest as warmth crept up your neck, your cheeks flushed—you didn’t know if it was the wine or just the effect of being near Caitlyn.

Then you felt it—her foot slowly sliding up your leg under the table, smooth and deliberate, and your breath caught in your throat. You practically melted in your seat, your fingers tightening slightly around the edge of the table for composure.

Caitlyn was still watching you, eyes darker now, pupils slightly dilated. There was something unreadable in her gaze, something electric.

“Do you want to get out of here?” she asked, her voice no louder than a whisper, but heavy with suggestion.

You swallowed hard, pulse pounding, every nerve ending alive. “Yes,” you breathed. “God, yes.”

She didn’t smile this time—not in the usual teasing way—but there was a curve to her lips that told you she’d been waiting for that answer.

The ride back to her place was quiet but charged, your fingers brushing on the gearshift, the tension between you stretching tighter with every passing second. The moment her door closed behind the two of you, it snapped.

She stepped forward, cupped your face with both hands, and kissed you like she’d been holding back all night. There was nothing hesitant now—just heat and hands and the thrum of something real blooming between you.

When you finally broke apart, both of you breathless, her forehead rested against yours again.

“Still think you don’t belong in my world?” she whispered, her thumb brushing across your lips.

You shook your head, smiling against her touch. “I think I might be exactly where I’m supposed to be.”

──────────────────────

masterlist

[thedilfdiaries]

a sweet arrangement

sugardaddy!Joel Miller x f!reader

Masterlist ♡ Sugar Daddy Masterlist

Wordcount: 3,374

Summary: You sign up for a sugar daddy app. What's the worst that could happen?

Warnings: 18+, fingering, oral (both m&f receiving), light bondage, reader might have pullable hair (i dont rememeber if i took it out) quick mentions of slut, baby, sweet baby, sweetheart, darlin

Notes: tysm @saradika-graphics for the dividers. I was cheated on over the weekend, and I wrote this as a "I wish I could be here" instead of being sad." Just another rich!daddy fantasy

You've been feeling financially stretched lately, and after hearing about the concept of sugar daddies and sugar babies from a friend, you decided to give it a try. You sit on your bed and hesitantly create a profile on a popular app, describing yourself as a young, independent woman looking for a mutually beneficial arrangement. As you sit scrolling through, you can't help but feel a sigh of reluctance escape your lips. You never expected to find yourself on a sugar daddy dating app, but life has a way of surprising you sometimes.

After a few moments of looking around the site, a notification pops up. It's a message from a user named "Contractor_Guy."

Curiosity piques, and you open the message, hoping it's not some creepy come-on. To your surprise, it reads:

"Hey there. I don't usually do this sort of thing, but I figured it's worth a shot. My name's Joel. If you're interested in getting to know me, send me a message back."

Feeling intrigued, you reply:

"Hi Joel, I'm not sure what 'this sort of thing' is, but I'm curious now.”

The response comes quickly.

Contractor_Guy: "Haha, 'this sort of thing' is something I usually avoid. But hey, it's a new day, and who knows what it might bring?"

You: Hopefully luck! But seriously, what exactly are you avoiding?"

Contractor_Guy: "Haha, well that's a bit of a long story, darlin.”

You: "Oh, I don't mind a long story. I've got some time to kill. Besides, I find it intriguing that someone like you is on a sugar daddy app.”

Contractor_Guy: "Well, my last experience wasn't the best, and I'm just being cautious this time around.

But, here's the long version. I met a girl a few years back, and at first, things were great. We clicked, and the relationship was mutually beneficial. I was able to provide for her in a way she couldn't for herself, and in return, she was there for me when I needed emotional support. As time went on, she started to change. She became more demanding and less appreciative. It got to the point where she would expect extravagant gifts just for a simple text or phone call. I realized that she was only interested in my money and not in the relationship we'd built."

You: "I'm sorry to hear that. It's not easy to find someone who's genuine and appreciates what you have to offer."

Contractor_Guy: "Yeah, it was a tough lesson to learn, but I'm hoping to find someone different this time. Someone who appreciates the little things, too, not just the material things."

You: "I think that's a fair expectation. We all deserve to be appreciated for more than just our wallets. So, Joel, tell me more about yourself. What do you do for a living?"

Contractor_Guy: "I'm a contractor. I do mostly residential construction and home remodeling projects. What about you? What do you do when you're not scrolling through dating apps?”

You: "Lol, I'm usually at work. I'm a graphic designer, so I spend most of my days in front of a computer. It's not the most glamorous job, but I love what I do."

Contractor_Guy: "A graphic designer, huh? That's pretty impressive. I've always been more of a hands-on guy myself. But I must admit, there's something intriguing about a woman in the arts.”

You: "And who doesn't love a man who can wield a hammer and a chainsaw with equal ease?"

Contractor_Guy: "Oh, I'm definitely good with my hands darlin' ;). ”

You: "Maybe one day you'll show me just how good you are with your hands."

As the conversation continues to flow effortlessly, you both exchange numbers and agree to meet for a coffee date tomorrow. Before signing off, you send a playful message with a picture attached

You: "Well, I'm off to begin the countdown to our coffee date. I'll leave you with this little teaser. ;)"

Insert a picture of you posing confidently in a cute outfit, with a mischievous grin on your face.

Contractor_Guy: "Wow, that definitely has me counting down the hours! I can't wait to see you in person."

With that, you end the conversation eagerly anticipating your first in-person meeting with the intriguing contractor.

The two of you meet for the first time at a trendy coffee shop downtown, and you can immediately sense Joel's charm and confidence. You can tell he's done this a time or two. He offers to buy you a drink and pulls out the mattest black credit card you have ever seen to pay with. He guides you to a table in the back corner, and you both engage in light conversation, discussing your interests and goals. Joel is clearly intrigued by you, and you feel a spark of attraction towards him as well.

"So, tell me more about yourself," Joel says, his eyes locked on yours.

"Well, like I said on the app, I'm a freelance graphic designer," you reply, “It's not the most stable job, but I love what I do."

"I can imagine," Joel says, a hint of admiration in his voice. "I've always been a fan of the arts. But I'm sure you understand the struggles of making ends meet as a freelancer. That's why I'm interested in this arrangement."

"I do understand," you agree, your mind already contemplating the potential benefits of such an arrangement. "It would be nice to have some financial stability while still being able to pursue my passion."

"Exactly," Joel says, his tone firm but understanding. "And in return, I'd like you to be my companion when I need someone to spend time with. We can go on dates, attend social events, or just relax at home. I value your company, you're easy on the eyes and brain, and I believe we would make a great team."

"I think that sounds fair," you say, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. "I'm looking for something similar - someone who understands my situation and is willing to help me out."

Joel offers to take you to his place for a glass of wine, and as he leads you to his car, the conversation shifts to the details of the arrangement.

"Now that we've established the terms," Joel says, his voice low and serious, "I want to make something clear. I'm going to support you financially in any way you could ever dream of or want, but there's one condition."

"What's that?" You ask, your curiosity piqued.

"I want access to you whenever I please, however I please," Joel says, his eyes meeting yours. "I want to be able to use you for my pleasure whenever I want. Are you comfortable with that?"

Your heart races as you consider his request. You know what he's asking for, and you're not sure if you're ready for that level of intimacy. But at the same time, you can't deny the excitement coursing through your veins.

"I need some time to think about it. This is a big decision."

"Of course," Joel replies, his tone understanding. "Take all the time you need. But remember, this is the condition of our arrangement."

As Joel drives you to his mansion, you can't help but feel a mixture of excitement and trepidation. This is unlike any arrangement you've ever been a part of, and you're not sure what to expect. As you follow Joel upstairs, your heart races in anticipation. He leads you into a large, dimly-lit room, its walls adorned with black velvet and soft, glowing lights. A large bed dominates the center of the room, surrounded by various toys and restraints.

"I want to show you what I mean when I say I want access to you whenever I please.” Joel says, his voice thick with desire.

Joel leads you over to the bed, his eyes never leaving yours. He takes a seat on the edge, patting the space beside him. "Come here, sweetheart," he says, his voice soft and inviting.

You hesitate for a moment, unsure of what to do. But the curiosity and excitement pulsing through you win out, and you find yourself sitting down next to him. Joel's hand reaches out to gently brush a strand of hair from your face. "You're so beautiful, you know that?" he says, his gaze intense.

You feel your entire body get warm at the compliment, your heart racing faster than ever before. "Thank you," you murmur.

Joel's hand begins to trace a path down your arm, sending shivers coursing through your body. "I want to make you feel good, sweetheart," he says, his voice low and husky. "I want to give you pleasure like you've never experienced before."

Your mind is racing as Joel's hand continues to explore your body. You're not sure what to do, but you find yourself leaning into his touch, your body craving more.

"I want to show you something," Joel says, his eyes twinkling with mischief. He stands up and walks over to a large wooden chest at the foot of the bed. He opens it, revealing a variety of toys and restraints. Your heart races as you take in the sight. You've never seen anything like this before, and you're not sure what to make of it. Joel walks back over to you, a blindfold in his hand. "I want to show you how good it can feel to let go and trust someone," he says, his voice soft and soothing.

You hesitate for a moment but something about Joel's words and the look in his eyes makes you feel safe, and you find yourself nodding in agreement. He gently places the blindfold over your eyes, cocooning you in darkness. You can feel his hands on you, guiding you back onto the bed. You trust him, and you let yourself relax into the feeling of his touch.

Joel's hands continue to explore your body, tracing patterns and circles that send shivers of pleasure coursing through you. You can feel the bed shift as he leans over you, his breath hot against your ear. "I want to make you feel so good, sweetheart," he whispers, his voice barely above a whisper. Your breath hitches as his hands continue to wander.

Suddenly, you feel something soft and silky against your skin. It's a scarf, and Joel is using it to gently bind your wrists to the bedposts. You gasp at the feeling of being restrained, but the sensation is not unpleasant. Instead, it heightens your senses, making you more aware of every touch and caress.

Joel continues to explore your body, his hands moving lower and lower until they reach the waistband of your pants. He pauses for a moment, waiting for your consent. "May I?" he asks, his voice low and husky. You nod, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps. He slowly begins to slide your pants down your legs, his hands lingering on your skin as he goes. You can feel the heat of his touch, and you find yourself arching up towards him, wanting more. Finally, your pants are off, and Joel's hands are free to explore your body in earnest. He caresses your thighs, your hips, your stomach, each touch sending waves of pleasure coursing through you.

You can feel yourself growing wet, your body responding to Joel's touch in ways you've never experienced before. You moan softly, your hips bucking up towards him. Joel takes the hint, his fingers finding their way to your wetness. He begins to explore you, his touch gentle but firm. You gasp at the sensation, your body quivering with pleasure. His fingers move in slow, deliberate circles that send shivers of pleasure coursing through your body. You find yourself moaning louder and louder, your hips bucking up towards him as you chase the feeling of release. Finally, you can't take it any longer. You cry out as the orgasm washes over you, your body trembling with pleasure. Joel continues to touch you, his fingers gentle as they bring you down from the peak of pleasure.

Slowly, your breathing returns to normal, and you become aware of your surroundings once again. The blindfold is still over your eyes, and you're still bound to the bed. But you feel safe and content, your body still humming with pleasure. He unties the blindfold, and you blink your eyes against the sudden brightness of the room. He's standing above you, a wicked smile on his face. "Did you like that, sweetheart?" he asks, his voice low and seductive.

"Yes sir," you get out with a hoarse voice.

Joel's gaze travels down your body, taking in the sight of you spread out on his bed, still bound to the bedposts. "Mmm, such a good girl already," he says, his voice full of satisfaction. "I have so much more I want to show you."

He walks over to the wooden chest at the foot of the bed and rummages through it, pulling out a variety of toys and restraints. Joel turns back to you, a pair of handcuffs in his hand. "May I?" he asks, his voice low and seductive.

“You may."

Your heart racies with excitement as Joel cuffs your hands above your head, replacing the soft, luxurious ribbon, and securing you back to the bedpost. You test the restraints, finding that they hold you firmly in place. Your heart is racing with excitement, your body tingling with anticipation. He walks back over to the chest and pulls out a vibrator. He turns it on, the buzzing noise filling the room. You watch as he approaches you. He traces the vibrator over your body, teasing you with each touch. You arch up towards him, wanting more. But Joel is in control, and he takes his time, drawing out the anticipation until you're nearly begging for release."Are you ready for more, darlin’?"

“Yes please,” your breath coming in short gasps.

"Good girl." He traces the vibrator lower, teasing your clit with each pass. You moan, your hips bucking up towards him. But he pulls the vibrator away just as you're about to come.

You whimper in frustration, but Joel just smiles. "Patience, baby, patience," he says.

He continues to tease you, bringing you to the brink of orgasm again and again, but never letting you fully come. You're writhing on the bed, your body begging for release when Joel leans down and whispers in your ear. "Do you trust me, sweetheart?"

You nod, your heart racing. "Yes, I do," you whisper.

Joel smiles, his eyes twinkling with mischief. He leans down and captures your lips in a passionate kiss. You moan, your hips bucking up towards him. You're ready for whatever comes next.

Joel breaks the kiss, his eyes locked on yours. "I'm going to take you to the edge, sweetheart," he says, his voice low and seductive. "And then I'm going to bring you back again. And again. And again. Until you can't take it anymore."

Joel's hand moves back to the vibrator, tracing it over your clit once again. This time, he doesn't stop. He continues to tease and pleasure you. Suddenly, Joel pulls the vibrator away once again. You whimper in frustration, but before you can protest, he's replaced it with his mouth. His tongue expertly teases your clit. His hands roam your body as he brings you to the brink of orgasm once again. This time, however, he doesn't stop. He continues to lick and suck at your clit, his fingers entering you and curling against your G-spot as he pushes you over the edge.

You cry out, your body shaking with pleasure as you come hard against his mouth. Joel doesn't stop, his tongue continuing to torture you as you ride out the waves of your orgasm. As you come down from your orgasm, you gasp for breath, your body still trembling with pleasure. Joel's gaze is intense as he watches you, his face flushed with arousal.

"That was so, fucking good," you manage to gasp out, your voice still hoarse from your orgasm.

Joel smiles, his eyes never leaving yours. "I'm glad you thought so," he says, his voice low and seductive. "But I think it's your turn now."

"My turn?" you ask, your eyes wide with curiosity.

"Yes," Joel says, his smile widening. "It's time for you to return the favor.”

You feel a pang of nerves flood your body. “But I'm still all tied up.”

Joel smirks, leaning in. He grabs the hollows of your cheeks, forcing you to look at him, “ I never said you needed to be untied, did I.”

You swallow hard, your mind racing with the implications of his words. Joel releases your cheeks, his gaze traveling down your body. "You're going to make me very happy tonight, sweetheart. Just remember - I want access to you whenever I please, however I please. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir," you reply, your voice full of submission.

Joel's smile widens, and he reaches down to unfasten his pants. He steps out of them and his boxers, revealing a hard, thick, ready erection. He climbs onto the bed, his legs straddling your chest. "Now, I want you to take me into your mouth," he says, his voice firm and authoritative.

Your heart is racing as you obey. He brings it up to your lips, and your tongue darts out to lick the tip. You can taste the hint of salt and musk, and you find yourself growing aroused again. You open your mouth wide to accommodate his size. He tastes so good, so intense, and you can't get enough. You begin to move your head, your mouth sliding up and down his shaft. Joel gasps, his hips bucking up towards you.

Suddenly he grabs your hair and holds his cock to the hilt, filing up your entire throat, blocking your airway. You try to gasp for breath as Joel holds you down on his large throbbing cock but it's no use. Your head is swimming with pleasure and arousal, and you're not sure if you can take anymore. Just then Joel releases his grip on your hair, allowing you to breathe again. You take the opportunity to pull away, gasping for air. Joel smirks down at you. "Such a good little slut for daddy already," he says, his voice full of praise. "Daddy wants to see more. Show me how much you want me."

You nod, your heart racing with anticipation as Joel pulls away and undoes your restraints. When he's back on the bed, you take him back into your mouth, your hands roaming his beautiful, full thighs. You begin to suck and lick at his cock, your tongue exploring every inch of him. You can hear Joel growing more aroused, his breaths coming in short gasps.

You feel a hand on the back of your head, guiding you. Joel is thrusting into your mouth, his cock sliding in and out. You moan around him, your hands reaching up to cup his balls. He's tensing, his hips bucking harder with each thrust. Suddenly, he lets out the most primal groan you've ever heard, his cock swells in your mouth. He thrusts into you one more time before coming. You can feel his warm come filling your mouth, and you swallow it down eagerly. Joel groans, his hips stilling as he rides out his orgasm.

You pull away, gasping for air and Joel collapses onto his back, his chest rising and falling rapidly. You can see the satisfaction on his face, and you feel proud of yourself. You've never done anything like that before, and you're not sure how you feel about it. But there's a part of you that's excited, that wants to do it again.

You're both panting heavily, your mind still reeling from the intense experience you've just shared. Joel's gaze is locked on yours, his eyes full of admiration and desire. "You were amazing, sweetheart," he says, his voice a low rumble. "I can't wait to show you more." A wave of excitement washes over you as Joel reaches out and gently strokes your cheek, his fingers lingering against your skin. "I want to make this arrangement work, darlin," he says, his voice soft and earnest. "But I need to know that you're in this for the right reasons."

Your heart races as you consider his words. You know what he's asking, and you're not sure if you're ready for the level of intimacy and commitment this arrangement requires. But at the same time, you can't deny the excitement coursing through your veins, the thrill of being desired and pursued by someone like Joel. You nod, your heart racing with both excitement and trepidation. "I think I'm ready to accept your condition," you say, your voice low and hesitant. "But I need to know that you're in this for the right reasons, too."

Joel's eyes meet yours, his gaze intense and serious. "I promise you, I want nothing more than to care for and support you, both financially and emotionally," he says firmly. "And I expect the same companionship in return."

You take a deep breath, your mind racing with the implications of your decision. But there's a part of you that's eager to explore this new world, to find out what it means to be truly desired and cared for by someone like Joel.

"Okay," you finally say, your voice full of resolution. "I want to make this arrangement work too."

Joel's face breaks into a smile, his eyes filled with relief and joy. He pulls you into a warm embrace, his arms wrapping around you tightly. "Thank you, sweetheart," he whispers, his voice full of gratitude. "I'm going to make sure you never regret this decision."

---

Thanks for reading ❤️ let me know if you'd like more from these two

[inlovewithfionaapple]

things i should've said sooner

warnings: angsty for a little bit

wc: 685

part two

leah stared at the blank text thread like it would fill in the answer for her.

it had been two days since she'd sent i miss you. i'm sorry. no answer. no read receipt. just silence.

it was what she deserved.

she didn't hang out after practice. she didn't joke with the others in the locker room. she went home, laid in bed, and thought about y/n. about how she used to hum under her breath when she was bored. about how she always ordered two straws with her milkshakes. about how she used to look at leah like she was more—more than a footballer, more than a headline, more than what leah sometimes felt she deserved.

and leah had lost all of that because she was scared of being seen.

no more.

she opened up her notes app and started typing, rapidly, before she could change her mind:

i've spent the last 48 hours thinking about all the things i wish i'd said to you on that rooftop. things i was too scared to admit, even to myself. that i love you. that i want you. that keeping you a secret wasn't about shame—it was about fear. but not of you. of losing everything i've built. of people turning the most real thing i've ever felt into a headline.

but now i've lost you anyway. so what was the point of being scared?

if you never want to talk to me again, i'll understand. but if there's even the tiniest part of you that wants to hear me say it to your face… meet me. please. one last time. just us.

she copied the message, opened their thread, and hit send.

then she waited.

she waited through dinner she could not eat. through a match she could not focus on. through the slow, torturous hours of uncertainty.

until finally—delivered changed to read.

her heart missed a beat. and then—three dots. she straightened up.

then came the reply.

y/n: where?

her fingers shook as she typed:

leah: the field behind your old school. the bench beneath the willow tree. tomorrow. 7 p.m.

another long pause. then:

y/n: okay.

the next evening, leah got there early. the willow tree swayed gently in the late summer breeze, and the grass was still warm from the sun. she sat down on the bench, wringing her hands, rehearsing what she'd do—how she'd beg if she needed to, how she wouldn't blame y/n if she turned and left once more.

then she saw her.

y/n. hoodie sleeves pulled over her hands, sloppy bun of hair, wary but shining eyes. leah stood up before she could react.

"i didn't think you'd come," leah said.

"i almost didn't," y/n said. "but i kept hearing your voice in my head. and i wanted to hear the real thing."

leah stepped closer, her heart racing. "i meant what i wrote. i've been using football, using fear, because it's safe. but safe never made me whole. you did."

y/n swallowed hard, looking at her. "so what now, leah? you say all the right things and we go back to pretending?"

"no," leah said, her voice quick, sure. "no pretending. i want to be with you. really. totally. publicly, if you'll permit it. i'll take the headlines. i'll take the fallout. i don't care anymore. i just want you."

y/n's eyes filled. "do you mean that?"

"i do." leah's voice cracked. "but i understand if it's too late."

y/n didn't say anything for a long time. then, finally, she stepped forward and opened her arms, taking leah into the kind of hug that said: i've missed you too much to be angry forever.

"i'm scared too," y/n whispered. "but maybe we can be scared together."

leah nodded into her shoulder. "i'd rather be scared with you than brave without you."

and as the sun dipped low behind the school, stretching out long shadows across the field, they held each other like they had the time they lost—and maybe even a future they could still build.

[amberlynnmurdock]

Neighbor

Matt Murdock x Reader

Summary: You're Matt Murdock's neighbor, and one night he hears you pray.

Words: Under 1k

A/N: I just be posting anything now lol wrote this in my notes app hope you like it!!!

The building was quiet most of the time, but unfortunately for Matt Murdock, that wasn't the case, ever. Most people couldn't hear apartments three doors down and the conversations that went on in them. But Matt could. And he could never avoid them.

He distracted himself from the outside noise with menial chores–cleaning whatever dishes were left in the sink, reorganizing glasses in the cabinet, and practicing his fighting. But when dusting and cleaning wasn't enough, when even the music he played couldn't drown out the noise, he tended to listen to a particular apartment: hers.

She lived alone. Right across the hall, diagonal from his own door. Of all the apartments he was forced to listen to day in and day out, hers was the most peaceful. The quietest. She didn't have loud conversations with anyone, she didn't have a dog who would bark in the middle of the night. Instead, she had a teapot on the stove that would whistle when ready; she spent most nights quietly flipping through pages of a book. She got up to that annoying phone alarm and trotted to the bathroom to get ready for work. Matt's not sure what she does, but sometimes he hears her come home late when he's about to get ready to patrol the streets as Daredevil.

Matt realized going over this in his head was a little more than creepy and trod the thin line of being a stalker, but his heightened senses and what they picked up on were unavoidable. The times he couldn't focus on anything else or tune out the other noises in the apartment he focused on hers because it was the most calming to his senses.

He's only run into her a handful of times on the rare occasion they both leave for work in the morning. One time, they both exited their apartments at the same time. She quietly waved good morning until she realized she waved at a blind man and then uttered a more audible "good morning." Most people would ignore the realization and awkwardly go about their day, but not her. She always made sure to say good morning from then on. Matt liked that–no, liked you.

Matt found himself eager to get home after work more often than not, in hopes of coming home at the same time as her. Anything to get a small interaction would be enough for him. Even if it was as small as her holding the door for him or wishing him a good night. He looked forward to these small interactions so much that if they didn't happen, Matt would have a much less than good day.

One night, though, when he was just about to let himself fall asleep after a rather rough night patrolling Hell's Kitchen, he heard her. He heard her in a way he hadn't before. From the hiccups, to the shaky breaths, and the lingering taste of salt in the air, he knew she was crying.

Matt shot up in bed as he began to listen more intently–what happened?

"Please, God," he heard her whispered prayer, "Please make sure I make it home safe and unharmed from work. Please. There's so much violence in this city and I'm scared to walk alone at night."

Matt took a shaky breath, gripping his silk sheets in his hands. She was scared, he confirmed. Well, rest assured, he thought. Tomorrow night, he would make sure she arrived home safely from work himself.

TO BE CONTINUED??? IDK.

[theaawalker]

Steps to Write 1K Words a Day (with a tight schedule)

follow for more tips 💋 || request writing tips 💌

1. Establish the Foundation

Know Your Why: Clarify your reason for writing daily by finishing a novel, building discipline, therapeutic expression, etc. Purpose keeps you going when time is tight.

Pick a Project & Stick With It: Avoid hopping between too many ideas. Commit to one main project to prevent decision fatigue.

Set a Realistic Timeframe: Determine how much daily time you actually have. Even 30 minutes can be enough with focus.

2. Shape the Writing Routine

Set a Daily Writing Slot: Choose the same 20-60-minute window each day, e.g., early morning, lunch break, and right before bed. Consistency beats chaos.

Break It into Sprints: Divide writing time into 2-3 focused sprints (10–20 minutes each) with mini-goals (e.g., 300 words per sprint).

Use Micro-Moments Wisely: Jot down scenes, lines, or dialogue in short bursts during downtime, e.g., commutes and between classes.

3. Build a Writing Habit

Create a Ritual: Start with a cue (tea, playlist, app launch), write, and end with a reward. Conditioning helps it stick.

Track Your Progress: Use a word count tracker, habit app, or physical calendar to visualize your momentum.

Aim for “Done,” Not “Perfect”: Don’t revise mid-draft. Keep the focus on finishing today’s 1,000 words, not editing yesterday’s.

4. Define Your Writing Environment

Eliminate Distractions: Silence notifications, close tabs, and let others know you’re “off the grid” during your writing window.

Use Tools That Work for You: Whether it's Google Docs, Scrivener, Word, or a distraction-free app (like FocusWriter), pick what helps you stay in flow.

Keep Materials Nearby: Outlines, scene notes, character sheets. Have them within reach to avoid losing time to memory gaps.

5. Develop Content Efficiently

Outline Briefly Before Writing: Know the scene’s goal, characters involved, and 1–2 key beats. This cuts down time spent thinking mid-writing.

Use Prompts or Templates: If stuck, use writing prompts or scene formulas (e.g., conflict ↣ tension ↣ resolution) to keep moving forward.

Lower the Stakes for First Drafts: Treat your draft as clay, not marble. Write fast, revise later.

6. Reward Yourself Consistently

Use Immediate Micro-Rewards: After each sprint, give yourself a small treat: a stretch, snack, meme scroll, or a favorite song.

Build End-of-Day Rituals: After hitting 1K, reward yourself with a guilt-free indulgence:

- A hot drink

- 30 minutes of gaming

- A mini-episode of your comfort show

- Reading time

Track for Bigger Rewards: Hit a streak (5 days? 2 weeks?) and treat yourself to something bigger: new notebook, movie night, favorite meal.

Celebrate Wins, Big or Small: Even if you only wrote 300 words, that’s progress. Celebrate effort, not just perfection.

7. Develop a Sustainable Arc

Adjust as Needed: If 1,000 words becomes overwhelming, drop to 500 and scale up again. It's better to be consistent than burned out.

Build in Break Days: Choose 1-2 buffer days per week for rest or catch-up. Remember, your brain needs recharge time.

Reflect Monthly: Look back on what worked, what didn’t, and what to change. Writing daily is a living habit, not a static rule.

Tools That Can Help

Timers: Pomodoro apps (e.g., Focus Keeper, Forest)

Trackers: Pacemaker Planner, WriteTrack

Writing Tools: 4theWords (gamified), Google Docs offline, Scrivener

Voice-to-Text Options: Google Voice Typing, Otter.ai

Examples of People with Tight Schedules Who Write Daily

Octavia Butler: Wrote early each morning before work. Do what she said, “Persist.”

Brandon Sanderson: Wrote in sprints between teaching and family time.

Toni Morrison: Wrote after her children went to sleep, hence treating every moment as sacred.

You (Eventually): With the right systems, even the busiest writer can find their rhythm.

Follow || Like || Comment || Repost || My Novel ⇚⇚⇚

thank you, i am farkle :)

[creating--memories]

This is How it Went

Part 4: You can say we're nothing but you know the truth

Themes: Angst, fluff?

Warnings: light mentions of internalized homophobia, that's it I think?

Wc: 4k

Author's note: Hi friends, for those of you still awake I hope you enjoy part 4. Thank my job for literally not giving me anything to do today so I wrote most of this at work oops 🙈 Anyways um I kind have an idea where I want this to go but please send ideas if you have any. Also, please ignore that the timeline for this doesn't match real life. I know Azzi already announced her commitment before prom, but let's just pretend for the plots sake. Also ofc I didn't edit this so um ignore any typos.

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

P 💗

1:26 AM

Azzi

Azzi

P 💗

1:45 AM

AZZI FUDD

1:46 AM

Az 💗

Paige.

What the fuck.

it’s 2 AM

P 💗

Actually its 1:46 AM

Az 💗

Ok well why are you texting me at 1:46 AM

P 💗

Well

1:47 AM now

but

I wanted to show you something

Az 💗

…

It can’t wait till the morning?

P 💗

technically it is the morning

and no, it can’t wait

Incoming Facetime Call from: P 💗 Buckets 🏀

Az 💗

Paige

It’s the middle of the night

you’re gonna wake my whole family up

P 💗

Azzi just answer the phone

I promise it’s important

Azzi groaned as she reluctantly pushed herself up to rest her back against the pillows on her headboard. At the end of her bed, Stewie stirred slightly from her movements letting out a small yawn, clearly disturbed from a deep slumber.

She reached down to give the dog a small pet on the head

“Sorry Stew” she whispered

“I don’t know what’s wrong with her either”

Stewie crawled slowly over to Azzi and settled into her lap, his eyes slowly drifting closed as he settled back into sleep.

“She’s lucky we both love her” she mumbled as she opened her phone to the Facetime app, finally returning her best friend’s call.

“fiiiiinally” said Paige as Azzi’s face filled the screen on her phone, her voice echoing against the walls.

“Hello to you too” responded the younger girl.

Azzi stared at Paige’s image through the phone, it was slightly pixelated (thanks Uconn Wi-Fi), and her hair was pulled into a low ponytail at the nape of her neck, a thin white headband holding back a few strands of hair that were escaping from her previously slicked back up-do. In the background the bright light of the gym shone down through the phone screen, blinding Azzi with the stark contrast from the dark room around her. As her eyes adjusted to the brightness, and the familiar face of the blue-eyed girl, she found herself relaxing a bit, a small smile forming at the corners of her mouth.

It’s not like Paige and Azzi weren’t used to being far away from each other, they did live about 1,000 miles apart until a few months ago, if anything they were physically closer now. But despite the decrease in geographical distance from each other, it had seemed to become increasingly more difficult for the two of them to get a moment alone.

Azzi was happy for Paige, really. She was settling into UConn quickly. She was doing great on the court, she had been bonding with all of her teammates and overall seemed to be thriving. Every time the blonde talked about UConn her face lit up with excitement and confidence that seemed to radiate off of her through the phone calls and facetimes. But things were different. Paige’s schedule was a lot busier than it was in high school. She couldn’t come home straight after school to talk to her best friend. Her weekends were booked with practices and during her free time, she had team bonding or other school events. Not to mention, the blonde basketball player had begun to get even more media attention in her college debut, and she had interviews, brand deals, and a plethora of other media engagements scheduled around the clock.

So, when the older girl finally did get some time alone, she always made sure to talk to Azzi. Azzi appreciated that her friend made the effort to find the time to talk to her, but she couldn’t help but feel a little guilty, embarrassed almost. She didn’t want to be the kid-friend who was still in high school begging her best friend to pay attention to her when she probably had much better, more interesting things to do. So, Azzi pulled back. She rarely texted first, always waiting for Paige to start up a conversation, to which she always replied, but she made sure to wait a bit of time as to not seem toodesperate. But as much as she tried to put on a cool, nonchalant front, she ached for the sound of Paige’s voice, her presence, to be wrapped up in her arms again enclosed in her bedroom with the rest of the world shut out around them. So now, despite her grogginess, at 1:47 AM, in the dark, her blond-haired, blue-eyed best friend on her phone screen, she couldn't help but feel a sense of ease wash over her, happiness that hadn’t felt this calm in a while. Happy to finally get her best friend all to herself.

“So what is so important that you needed to wake me up for? And why are you at the gym in the middle of the night?” Azzi implored.

“just getting some extra shots in. You know I gotta stay on top of my game” the blonde smirked.

“Well, you know what else keeps you on top of your game? sleep. something both you and I should be doing right now.” Azzi responded

Paige chuckled and rolled her eyes.

“That’s beside the point Az.” she waved her hand in dismissal

“Anyways, I was just here at the gym, putting in some extra hours, it takes a lotta work to keep up this physique you know”

Azzi sucked her teeth and rolled her eyes in fake annoyance, as Paige continued on.

“But, I was looking around at all of the names around this room, all of the championships won and how amazing the legacy is here and how one day, I want my name to be hanging up there too.”

She angled her phone towards the outer edges of the gym letting Azzi get a clear picture of her descriptions.

The blonde took a brief pause looking her best friend in the eye.

“And… when I thought about it, trying to picture my jersey up there… I pictured your name next to mine”

Azzi couldn’t help but blush at the thought of Paige picturing their jerseys next to each other. Bueckers 5 and Fudd 35carrying on the UConn legacy.

“Paige —” Azzi sighed

Paige cut her off before she could continue

“I know you still have a lot more time before you have to decide where you’re committing, and— and I’ll support you wherever you go. But, I really, like reeeeaallyyyy want you to come to UConn. And I just thought maybe if you saw all of the greatness that would surround us in this gym and how amazing we could be together that you would want to come too.”

She looked away from the camera and at the floor, trying to avoid the curly girl’s gaze, nervous about how she may respond to her proposal.

Azzi looked at her best friend endearingly, her eyes softening with the wholeheartedness of the blonde’s words.

“P, you know I think we’re amazing together too. And I really appreciate you showing me all this, seriously. But recruitment, especially with COVID and everything has been so difficult already, I— I just need a little bit more time to think about everything you know?”

Paige nodded slowly still adverting her gaze from the younger girl.

Azzi could sense the hurt on her face. She wanted nothing but to tell her yes, that they can spend the next 3 years playing side by side making the best college duo anyone has ever seen. But this was a big decision, and she needed to make it with her head and not her heart.

“Yeah that makes sense.” Paige nodded.

“I just— I really miss you Az” she confessed.

When her blue eyes finally looked up at Azzi through the screen, the brunette felt a lump creep up in her throat, the sincerity of the comment hitting her.

“I really miss you too P.”

Both girls were silent for a moment. Their words hanging in the air.

“You’ll be home for Christmas, right?” Azzi asked hopefully.

By home, Azzi meant where she was now, and even though she didn’t clarify, Paige knew what she meant. Home was where Azzi was. Home was with Katie and Tim, Jon and Jose, and of course, Stewie. And as much as she was dying to see her dad and Drew, home was in Virginia with the Fudd’s. So yes she’d be home for Christmas.

“Of course,” Paige responded cheerfully.

“Good, I’ll be counting down the days then,” Azzi said with a smile.

“Now show me what you’ve been up so late here practicing”, said Azzi, changing the subject towards something more lighthearted.

Paige propped up her phone and began to show off her practiced form for her three-point shot.

As Azzi watched her energetic best friend, the tiredness that had previously faded started to drift back in. Slowly she stopped fighting it and she drifted off to sleep, the sound of Paige’s sneakers and the bounce of the basketball lulling her to sleep.

—

Winter break came and went, Paige keeping her promise that she’d be home for Christmas, flying in the moment her last practice let out and heading straight for the Fudd’s house. Paige and Azzi spent the next few days spending every second together, challenging each other to games of 1v1 in Azzi’s driveway, even in the snow, baking cookies, in which Paige was banned from the kitchen for eating the raw cookie dough too many times, and fighting over which Christmas movies to watch, alternating between forcing Jon or Jose to be the tiebreaker of their antics.

By the time New Years rolled around, the two had fallen back into a comfortable rhythm going through their days attached at the hip forgetting about all of their other obligations for just a few more days.

Despite how happy Paige was to finally be with Azzi again, there was a thread of anxiety that she couldn’t shake off since she’d arrived. Since they last saw each other, neither of them had brought up the kiss they shared the day before Paige left for UConn, and as much as Paige wanted to confess all of her feelings to Azzi the second she stepped off the plane, she stopped herself. Ever since she had started her freshman year, she had felt the younger girl pull away a bit. Paige was always the one to text first, the one to bug her with calls, and she couldn’t help but feel like she was constantly begging for the curly-haired girl’s attention. Paige had confessed her frustrations to Nika on multiple occasions:

“No, like I get it, it’s her senior year. She wants to enjoy her last season before college. It just sucks sometimes.”

She couldn’t help but feel like Azzi was pulling away because of that day before she left for UConn. Maybe she was pulling away because she regretted it. Maybe she just got caught up in the moment and was scared for Paige to leave, so she gave in to it. She felt guilty about it all. She hated feeling like she was just some creepy lesbian who preyed on her friends. She didn’t want to feel these things for her best friend but she couldn't help it. So instead, she pushed her feelings down and decided that it was better to just pretend the kiss never happened.

Which was working. Until Paige found herself at a New Years party at one of Azzi’s teammate’s house, the brunette dressed in a shimmery silver tank top and black ripped skinny jeans that hugged every inch of her figure perfectly. Her hair was pulled back into a half up half down style, two strands left out, framing her face. The curly-haired girl was slightly tipsy, making her cling to the blonde even more than usual.

The two stood now in the back corner of the room, Azzi’s hands pressed up against Paige’s abs, her fingers grasping at the blonde’s T-shirt, as Paige leaned against the wall, her eye contact locked on the Brown-eyed girl in front of her.

Azzi was doubled over laughing at one of Paige’s absurd stories from one of her practices with Geno.

“there’s NO way you said that to him Paige.” Azzi pleaded.

“Sure did. I don’t need no old man telling me I don’t know how to defend the three-point line.” scoffed Paige between laughs.

“Paige! You’re gonna get yourself benched” yelled the younger girl playfully.

“Nah. Grandpa would never.”

Azzi rolled her eyes at her friend’s cockiness, finally recovering from the laughing fit she had been caught in.

Suddenly, some rambunctious girl ran into the room that stood in, waving her hands to get everyone’s attention.

“ONE MINUTE TILL MIDNIGHT” the girl yelled, and then quickly made her way to the next room, presumably to do the same thing.

As the girl left, Paige and Azzi turned their gazes back to each other, the quiet between them contrasting from the extreme bouts of laughter they had shared moments ago.

“So… You save anyone your New Year's kiss?” said Azzi, tentatively looking up at the blonde girl in front of her.

Paige shifted between her feet, an uneasiness settling in her stomach.

“Uh, no. not this year,” she said, scratching the back of her neck nervously.

“Me neither.” responded the younger girl.

Azzi rocked back and forth on her heels, both girls standing in the awkward silence between them.

“Well, maybe we could be each other's then?” said Azzi, finally breaking the silence.

Paige’s heart nearly jumped out of her chest.

“yes” she blurted out

“I— I mean yeah. Maybe we could.” she nervously tried to play off her previously overly enthusiastic response.

As her blue eyes landed back on Azzi’s brown ones in front of her, the sound of chants filled the room, counting down the seconds left till midnight.

“10…”

“9…”

“8…”

The two girls inched closer to one another, Azzi’s hands finding a comfortable spot on Paige’s shoulders, and the older girl’s hands resting on the younger girl's hips.

“4…”

“3…”

“2…”

“1…”

Paige held her breath, her heart was beating so fast she thought it might stop.

Slowly Azzi pulled on Paige’s shoulders slightly, closing the gap between them and pressing their lips together. The blonde sighed at the contact, letting herself lean into the kiss, breathing in the familiar scent of the girl in front of her.

Before they started drawing the attention of the rest of the people at the party, Azzi gently pushed herself off of the older girl.

No longer stuck in a trance of their shared kiss, Paige suddenly snapped back to reality and a panic started to set in. Before even a few seconds passed, Paige was pushing her way through the crowd and running towards the back door.

“Paige wait!” called Azzi

but the blonde was already out of earshot, the sound of excited cheers and “Happy New Year’s” muffling out her pleads.

—

When Azzi finally made her way through the crown of people at the party, stopping occasionally to hug friends and teammates, flashing a smile and a “Happy New Year” to her drunken classmates, she found Paige sitting on the back porch steps, her hands gripping the t-shirt on her chest, heaving into the cold winter air.

“Paige! What’s going on— are you okay?”

The blonde’s hands trembled as she tried to answer her younger friend.

The blonde stuttered out her words between tears.

“I— I’m sorry Az. I’m sorry for everything. I— I don’t know what came over me, I’m sorry for making you kiss me. I know I shouldn’t—”

“Hey, hey let’s calm down”

Azzi moved to sit next to the trembling girl on the steps. She rubbed slow circles on the older girl’s back as she tried to slow her breathing. After a few moments and Paige’s breaths started to stop coming in small bursts, Azzi took both of her hands in hers and looked at her tear-filled eyes.

“P. Tell me what’s going on?”

Paige’s hands clenched in Azzi’s grasp.

“I— I’ve been trying to stop it. I’ve been trying to pretend like they’re not there but Az I can’t. I have these feelings for you, feelings friends aren’t supposed to have. And I thought maybe you had them too, that night before I left for UConn and I kissed you.”

She slipped her hands from Azzi’s grasp and wrapped her arms around her stomach, attempting to soothe the pain that was pulsating throughout her entire body.

“But then, when I started college you started to pull away. I thought you didn’t want to talk to me. I thought maybe you regretted kissing me and I was just forcing myself onto you.”

“Oh Paige” Azzi sighed

“So when we kissed, I just freaked out and ran away. I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable again. I didn’t want to push you away again.”

Azzi pulled the distressed blonde into her lap and squeezed her tightly as she let muffled cries into the younger girl’s chest. After Paige’s tears subsided a bit, Azzi pulled back and took her face into her hands.

“P I’m so sorry. I never regretted anything. I’ve felt those feelings for you too Paige.” the curly-haired girl reassured.

“I didn’t mean to pull away, but I was scared. You were off at school starting the next big chapter of your life and I didn’t want to be your annoying friend in high-school constantly bringing you down. I didn’t want to get in the way.”

Paige breathing settled down, the clarity of the situation finally releasing some of the tension she was holding in.

“Az, remember what I said that night? the night before I left?”

Azzi shifted slightly on the step

“You said you’d never forget about me”

“Exactly,” Paige said as she moved the younger girl's hands from her cheeks to hold in her own.

“Azzi, you could never bring me down. Every moment we’ve spent apart has been torture for me. The last thing I could think is that you’re getting in the way. I miss you every day Az.”

Azzi let out a small smile, her heart warming from the older girl’s confession.

“Gosh, why are we so stupid” groaned Azzi as she squeezed her eyes shut in regret.

Paige let out a chuckle and the comment and pulled the younger girl into a tight embrace.

“I don’t know. But can we agree to not be stupid again?” she responded

Azzi leaned into the hug, squeezing the other girl tighter.

“Yeah, I think that’s a good idea.”

—

Unfortunately for both of them, they indeed were stupid again. Very stupid.

Paige leaned on her crutches while watching Azzi comb through her freshly flat ironed hair in the season her vanity.

“I just don’t see why not?” scoffed Paige, picking at the hair of the unicorn plushies that sat underneath her arms.

“Paige you can’t even walk” said Azzi turning back slightly to gesture to the blonde’s foot wrapped in a clunky boot.

Since their New Year’s revelation, Paige and Azzi had fallen into a comfortable, slightly confusing situationship of sorts, where they weren’t together, together, but they also weren’t seeing other people. And they acted as if they were dating, although never said that they were. Azzi would visit the blonde at school. And the whole time she was there Paige would go completely MIA from the rest of the team, only appearing for practices or other mandatory team obligations.

“Damn girl, I thought she kidnapped you or something.” would tease **Aubrey when the blonde would suddenly appear at practice.

They would spend the whole time lost in each other's presence, wrapped up in the sheets of Paige’s small dorm bed, laughing and talking until the late hours of the night. They stole kisses whenever they could, making up for lost time they had spent apart. Even though there was an underlying uncertainty to their situation, both girls were too wrapped up in the feeling of being together to care. They didn’t talk about what they were, or what this meant for either of them. Which is how they ended up here. In Azz’s room, arguing about whether or not Paige could take her to her senior prom.

The blonde winced at the younger girl's comment as she rolled her eyes

“way to rub it in Az.”

“P you know that’s not how I meant it, I’m just trying to make sure you stay on track for recovery” Said Azzi, giving the older girl a pitiful look.

“Doc said minimal movement in the boot is fine! I could make it work! I don see what the big deal is?” Paige argued back

Azzi set her hairbrush down on her vanity, and turned her body to face the blonde girl head on.

“Paige it’s not just that.” she sighed

“I already have so many eyes on me waiting for my commitment announcement. I really don’t need any more speculations about my life or my identity for that matter”

Paige felt the sting of the Azzi’s word ripple over her skin. Her frustration quickly transforming into hurt.

“So you don’t want people to know you’re gay. That’s it isn’t it.” Paige shot back

“That’s not what I said Paige”

Being gay really shouldn’t be a taboo thing for Azzi. She played women’s basketball for god’s sake. No one really “came out” in basketball, one day they just pop out with a girlfriend and that’s that. But for some reason the idea of thousands of people speculating about her sexuality, before she even makes a name for herself scared her.

“Then what? You just don’t want people to know you’re with me?” Paige pressed further

“No, I— I just don’t need all of the unnecessary attention. You know the rumors that are already out there about us. Imagine if there’s a million pictures of us together circulating the internet.”

“Well Azzi, we’re about to be spending a lot more time together at UConn. So if you can’t handle taking pictures with your girlfriend at prom then I don’t know what you’re gonna do in a few weeks when media day rolls around” scoffed the blonde.

“Oh, so I’m you’re girlfriend now?” Azzi said as she crossed her arms.

“I don’t know what you are Az. But if you’re too scared to be seen next to me, then maybe we shouldn’t be anything at all.” said Paige.

“Paige,” let out Azzi quietly

“Forget I even asked” she said as she adjusted her crutches and turned towards the door.

“Have fun at prom Az, I’m sure your date will think you look beautiful,” she said over her shoulder.

As much as she wanted to be angry, Paige couldn’t help but let a semblance of truth slip into her words. She really did hope Azzi had fun at prom and she really did think her date would think she looked beautiful.

But she couldn't find comfort in the thought, because each time she imagined the younger girl’s date slipping the corsage onto her wrist, or pulling her in for a slow dance, she couldn't stop wishing it was her.

So instead, she gripped onto her crutches tighter and hobbled out the door, not turning back to face the younger girl left sitting in her room.

[princessvelaryon]

Just a Taste

Jacaerys Velaryon x Fem!Reader

Vampire AU

Synopsis: You and your vampire boyfriend try something new for the very first time

Light smut

18+ MDNI

NSFW

Warnings: Light smut, light blood play, talks of depression and self hatred

This is a very, very rough draft that I wrote on my notes app. I haven’t written a fic in years but Jace and my Jace Nation inspired me so I had to get this out of my system. I began with Twilight fanfiction so I have to get back to my roots. I plan to make this a full series but this scene just popped in my head first.

I wrote this as a gift for my girl Nattie @earth4angels

Special thanks to all the Jace Nation writers that inspired me. @swordgrace @jacaerysgf @hxtd @vividxpages @eldrith @benjinotes @entitled-fangirl @gracexthoughts

I love you guys, you all are amazing and deserve awards❤️

*************************************************

At the moment, you and Jace were the picture perfect image of blissful domesticity. You were sitting at your kitchen table, cutting fruit for a smoothie. Jace insisted that as a busy college student, you didn’t eat properly and the compromise was that you would drink a fruit and vegetable smoothie to make him happy. There wasn’t much you wouldn’t do to make that man happy. Jace argued that sometimes you forgot to eat just because he didn’t. You were so considerate, almost too considerate. You hated eating in front of him because you knew it made him feel guilty that he couldn’t even partake in this very simple and very human ritual with you. Since you two were practically inseparable, you have been neglecting yourself as of late.

That was one of the aspects of your relationship that made his heart ache with want. He wanted so desperately to be a normal couple with you, doing all the traditional things normal couples do. He wanted to take you out to nice restaurants like you deserved. He wanted to eat breakfast in bed with you after waking up next to you. Jace believed that sharing meals together was a very important part of bonding and he felt incredibly guilty for making you miss out. It always filled him with a sense of shame when he had to leave you to eat dinner alone for an hour or two everyday to hunt in the woods for his food like the animal he saw himself as.

He may not be able to read your mind but it was hard not to hear the thoughts of your friends and family. They approved of Jace and liked him but they knew something was “off” with him, but most of these suspicious were kept in their subconscious thoughts and that was a slight relief to him. Your mother was worried why Jace was always so pale and cold. He gave her the same excuse he gave you when you first met.

“It’s just some harmless anemia. A family curse, unfortunately. It just makes me sleepy and a little paler than normal. Nothing to worry about.” Your mother was insistant that Jace take his vitamins and eat healthier and he had to lie to her that he did, adding to his crushing guilt.

It was hard to concentrate on your task of chopping vegetables when Jace was across from you looking so ethereal. The sunlight hit his fair skin just right and it made him practically glow. His head was buried in a book of Valyrian poetry, making his brown curls fall in his eyes, framing his face perfectly. From where you sat, you could cound every single freckle along his nose and cheeks.

Jace would often read to you in High Valyrian late at night before you went to bed, your head laying on his chest or buried in his neck. Usually his head would be in your lap as you ran your hands through his curls, making him whimper and shiver until he relaxed under your careful ministrations. But on certain special occasions, your head would be in his lap and he would gently run his fingers through your hair as he read to you.

If Jace had his wish, you would be lulled to sleep by his heartbeat or his pulse. You used to wonder if Jace read to you as a distraction from his nonexistant heartbeat but the deeper you fell in love with him, you realized that your mutual love of literature was how you bonded and how Jace showed his love. In his human life, he used to read bedtime stories to his little brothers just as his mother had read to him and her mother before him.

Thinking of Jace being a mother hen to his little brothers led directly to your next thought. For a brief moment, you were struck by a vision of a future you so desperately wanted to share only Jace and no one else. It was as if you were floating outside of your body, watching an older version of yourself walk around the room.

It was just the two of you in the kitchen, just like this one. You and Jace were a few years older but you looked relatively the same except for the lack of baby fat on your faces. Jace’s hair was a little shorter than usual, the result of a recent haircut because your newborn son kept tugging on his curls. He knew not to cut it too short because of how much you loved his hair. Jace walked in circles around the kitchen, soothing your son. You were busy chasing around your 3 year old daughter who wanted nothing more than her father’s attention and to hold her little brother. Sunlight was beaming through the windows and making Jace look transcendent as it always did. As soon as he turned to smile at you, the vision disappeared as quickly as it came. You wee too lost in your thoughts of a future that will never happen that you lost your train of thought and the sharp knife slipped and sliced your entire palm open.

Jace used his powers to be next to you in a literal flash, something he usually never did. He hated using his powers of strength and speed. They only really showed themselves in times of emergency and any harm that came to you, even slight, was considered an emergency to Jace.

Jace was able to smell the blood and he could even hear it before the thin layer of red showed itself on your skin. He fell to his knees in front of you and grabbed your hand, instinctively covering the wound with his slender fingers. He could hear your hearbeat and breathing speed up.

“I’m so sorry, I got distracted admiring you” you stammered out trying to be as honest as you could be without hurting his feelings. You were admiring your handsome, gorgeous boyfriend. But you left out the daydream about a future with him that could never be in order to not break his heart. You knew in your heart of hearts that Jace wanted a family with you as much as you did with him. He would give you all the babies you wanted if he could.

“Shh, Love it’s alright. I just worry for you. Does it hurt terribly?”

“Not really”

“Let me…”

He lost his train of thought as he looked down and saw your blood dripping to the floor, no longer able to tamper down his natural instincts. As he looked at you, something came over him, a particular look desire in his amber eyes that you had never seen from him before, not even in bed. His fangs popped out and he gave you one last look before he brought your palm to his plump lips.

He began with licking long stripes up your hand, cleaning up the blood that had leaked out of the cut and stained your skin. You couldn’t deny how good it felt. You always loved Jace and how his mouth and tongue felt on your sensitive skin. He had frequently kissed your palm im a tenture gesture when you would caress his face lovingly. But you had no idea your palm could be an erogenous zone until this very moment. You bit your bottom lip and held back your moans, not wanting to make him uncomfortable, knowing this was the first time for both of you. You felt the weight and importance of the moment.

As if he could sense you holding back, Jace looked up and made eye contact with you, his pupils dialated and mouth covered in you. The look he gave you shot straight to your groin and you could fell your panties instantly dampen at the sight. You sensed that he was asking your permission. You nodded without hesitation and he dove right in. Jace alternated between long stripes of his tongue and small flicks of his tongue. Your eyes rolled back into your head when he pressed his pouty lips to your hand and began to suck.

Jace couldn’t help himself unlike you. He was moaning and whimpering into your palm almost as much as he did when you two were making love. You looked down and could see he was hard. The slurping noises Jace was making would almost be on the verge of vulgarity if the moment wasn’t so erotic, which was one of the only words that came to mind to describe what was currently happening between you two. Erotic and deeply intimate. Jace had told you that sharing blood was the most deeply personal act for people like him. So the moment his mouth made contact with your blood, you immediately understood what this represented for you two as a couple.

You had a feeling this would happen sooner rather than later, you took the chance to fulfill your fantasy, so you fisted your hands in his hair, you two both mimicking the other act you both desperately loved to do. That seemed to spur him on even more. You presumed in Jace’s world, that sharing blood was held the same intimacy as him tasting other parts of you. Jace said that according to Valryian histories, blood sharing is an ancient magical ritual of sorts. No one completely understands it, especially since the Doom of Valyria, where the most of the histories of his people were lost to time. He didn’t have to read your mind to know that you were enjoying this as much as him. He could not only hear your heartbeat but he could feel it increase speed through your palm.

The combination of everything was getting overwhelming in the best way possible. The noises Jace was making, the look on his face, lost in pleasure solely from you, watching him use his mouth to expertly worship your hand the same way he did to your cunt, pouring every ounce of love he did into the acts.

You betrayed yourself and could not longer hold back your noises of pleasure. As soon as you let out a whimper, a wave of shame washed over him, practically burning him from the inside out. He suddenly pulled back from your hand wide wide eyes, with a horrified look on his face. He used his fangs to prick his thumb, then gently rubbing his blood up and down the cut on your hand. You watched in fascination as it healed right before your eyes. Jace’s ran a long finger down your now healed wound and he leaned his head forward to lay a soft kiss on your palm. Jace always took care of you and made sure your safety was paramount, no matter what was going on with him. You two had officially shared blood, and the private magical bond between you and Jace was officially sealed, forever.

He did this all without meeting your sympathic eyes. You could already read him like a book. You knew about his self hatred issues and you knew he would torture himself for getting carried away and actually enjoying the intimate act with you.

He crossed over the other side of the kitchen table to sit down in the chair across from you and he sat down, elbows on his knees and he covered his face with his hands. You continued to look at him with soft, kind eyes, just wanting to help him.

“Jace…”

“Please forgive me. You must hate me”

You got up and walked over to his side of the table. You got down on your knees in front of him. You reached forward, and gently reached forward to attempt to take his hands into yours to remove them from his face. You wanted to see him and you wanted him to see you. As soon as your warm hands made contact with his cold ones, he pulled back. You let your hands fall to your lap, wanting to give him his space.

“Please don’t”

“Jacaerys Velaryon, I could never ever hate you, no matter what. I promise”

You could hear him sniffen underneath his hands.

“Jacaerys…”

You only used his full name when you were serious.

You reached again for his hands, and this time he let you take them. You joined your hands together, kissed each of them and let them rest on his knees. He swooned at the intimate gesture. He still could not meet your eyes.

“Jace, please just look at me.”

He was being stubborn and pouting, looking instead at your joined hands. You reached out and cupped the side of his soft face and he instinctively nuzzled his face into your hand as he had done a hundred times before. You knew that muscle memory would work and his sad golden eyes finally connected with yours. You could tell he was trying to close his mouth to hide his teeth, but you weren’t having it. You reached out to gently touch his fangs.

“Please don’t hide any part of yourself from me. They’re beautiful, just like you”

He was still pouting but he sighed and reached out his hand like a prince from a fairytale and he helped you stand up. You surprised him by sitting sideways in his lap and wrapping your arms around his shoulders. He wrapped his strong arms around your middle, anchoring you to where you sat. Jace buried his head in your chest, kissing your collarbone. Finally beginning to relax, his fangs retracted. Even though you could still feel him half hard against you, the moment wasn’t charged with raw sensuality like the previous one. This was just pure loving intimacy and comfort between two lovers.

“I really liked it Jacaerys…I loved it actually. In fact, I want to do that more often. Much more often”

He pulled his head back from your chest in surprise. His amber eyes were sparking and not from tears.

“Really?”

“Mhm. I promise”

You leaned forward to kiss him deeply. You moaned into his open mouth when you tasted the metallic aftertaste of your blood.

Surprisingly both Jace and yourself, you enjoyed the taste of yourself on his tongue. You liked this but you much preferred tasting another part of yourself on his tongue.

[macheriezz]

you + me = meow (drabble + texts)

> non idol au , both reader and jun are 1996 liners , they’re dating btw

> junhui birthday special fic 🫰🏻

> genre: fluff , slice of life

> synopsis: since the first day you met him you knew he loves cats and always wanted one so you got him one after 08 years

> warnings: none

> authors note: this is really rushed as i wrote this really last minute . i scrapped what i originally wanted to post for jun’s bday 😓

> masterlist

> reader is afab !

the moment you got the text from your boyfriend who’s birthday was the coming tuesday , you realised that you had forgotten to get him a gift . you started to panic at work because you knew tomorrow was gonna be a busy day and you won’t really have time to go out and find something either .

while working on your laptop in the office , you kept thinking of different gifts that you could gift to him . colognes , matching bracelets or rings , books or a cat eye sleeping mask since seeing his eyes open while sleeping some times can scare the actual shit out of you especially in the dark . (still love him lots tho 🙏🏻)

“y/n ! do you want a pet kitty ? i have two at home you can have one for free !!” your colleague who sat behind you suddenly asked . then you suddenly realised that you could gift junhui a kitty for his birthday gift . you knew he would love the kitty sm so it was practically like the perfect gift . (probably even more than you)

after your work ended , you drove the colleague home as a way of seeing the pet kitty and how it’s condition was . luckily she was perfectly fine and she was a girl ! you’ve always heard junhui talk about how much she wanted to get a female kitty and dress her in all sorts of cute outfits , so it’s safe to say you were feeling blessed at the moment .

on the day of his birthday , you made him his favourite breakfast and wished him a happy birthday the moment he opened his eyes . you cuddled with him in bed for a good 02 hours too since you can’t say no to his puppy eyes . while he was doing his morning routine , you quickly went to go pick up the pet kitty from your colleague who was already at the downstairs of your apartment complex . you thanked her a bunch of times for the kitty and promised her you and junhui (especially jun) will take good care of her .

when you went back to your apartment unit , you placed the kitty in the cage on a tall stool infront of the bathroom your birthday boy was currently using and decided to surprise him the moment he was out .

“AM I SEEING THINGS RIGHT OR IS THERE A KITTY HERE ??” jun exclaimed happily in an high-pitched voice the moment he opened the bathroom door . you giggled quietly while doing the dishes once you heard your boyfriend’s happy tone voice . that’s when you knew , you got him the perfect gift .

I DO NOT ALLOW TRANSLATIONS , STEALING OR REPOSTING MY CONTENT ON ANY WEBSITE/APP

[coziestandhoziest]

I’ve been lurking in the stancest tag for months now and I’ve devoured every little bit of content all you amazing people that use this tag put out, but I’ve been too shy to interact much. I woke up last night in a cold sweat with a very specific idea in my brain. But it was like 3 am and a bitch was tired so I just typed a prompt in my notes app and went back to sleep. Woke up this morning and all the note said was “Stancest, love at first sight but like with dark ford.”

anyways, I humbly offer this little thing I wrote about an unhinged older ford kind of kidnapping a younger alternate dimension stan. CW: idk…blood, murder, implied SA/sex work, and my very thinly veiled daddy kink (im sorry)

When Ford first lays eyes on the 20 year old Stanley of dimension 2x’59, his little brother is shaking and has blood splatters across his bruised face. The knees of his grey sweats are soaking up the blood leaking out of the two goons Ford has just shot dead. Stanley’s eyes are wide, his breaths are fast and shallow. He has a split lip and his hair is a greasy, tangled mess.

He’s the most beautiful thing Ford has ever seen. 

Stanley flinches and starts to shuffle back when Ford takes a step towards him. Ford pauses to remove his goggles, lowers his scarf, holds up his six fingered hand. And when Stanley freezes and looks into his eyes with a glimmer of recognition … Ford’s heart swells with love. 

“…Sixer?” Stanley breathes. 

Ford smiles.

-

This Stanley always starts out shy in bed. Ford needs to wring an orgasm or two out of him before he starts begging Ford for what he really wants. It’d be endearing if it didn’t paint a dark picture of Stanley’s mental state after his time on the streets. He’d been nervous and twitchy the first time Ford took him to bed. So unlike the Stanley in Ford’s memories, none of his confident smirks or gentle teasing. He’d avoided eye contact at the start and tried to muffle his moans by biting his fists until he drew blood. It had made Ford seethe. Made him regret giving Rico and his lackeys quick deaths. But he’d swallowed down his rage and had been so, so gentle with his sweet boy.  He’d taken his time breaking him down slowly and sweetly. By the end, Stanley had been left a drooling, cum drunk mess. No thoughts in his pleasure hazed mind, only able to mouth out a litany of soft Ford…Ford…Fords. It was a sweet memory. 

“Ahh…Mmh…Ahn!”

But right now, Ford is kneeling between Stanley’s trembling thighs. He’s three fingers deep in his baby brother and he’s just finished pushing him over the edge for the second time. He’s running a soothing hand along Stanley’s hip, debating whether he should coax out a third orgasm when Stanley grabs the hand in his hip, clamps his thighs  tight around Ford’s waist and wails. Ford loves when he gets loud. 

His pretty boy is the very picture of debauchery. His eyes are glazed with pleasure, tears cling to his lashes, and his head is tilted back as if the sensations are too much to bear. 

“Please, puh-lease, Sixer! I need it!” 

Ford watches Lee’s perfect pink lips move, transfixed. Then the meaning of the words hit him and a low, wrecked groan tears from his throat. He descends upon his brother, crashes his lips against his. He coaxes Lee’s mouth open and earns another soft moan when he sucks on his tongue. A string of saliva connects their lips when they separate. He watches it break when Stanley licks his lips. 

“My sweet boy. Do you think you’re ready for me?” 

More little whimpers. Stanley wraps his arms around Ford’s neck and brings him down so their foreheads rest together. 

“Yeah. Please, Ford…I-“ he’s trembling, looking right into Ford’s eyes. Ford can feel his breaths puffing against his lips when he breathes out,”I missed you so much.” 

Oh. 

He’s perfect. His little darling is perfect. Ford is in love.  He shudders as he guides himself to his brother’s soft, wet hole. Stanley whines and tries to  grind his hips up to meet him. Ford settles a hand on him and stills his hips. 

“Easy, sweetheart. I’ll give it to you, slow.” 

Stanley shakes his head and sobs out, “N-no, please Sixer, give me everything! I missed you!” 

And Ford can’t find it in himself to deny his baby any longer. He slams home and Stanley screams out his pleasure. It’s the sweetest sound Ford’s ever heard. He starts a fast, punishing rhythm making sure to aim straight for Lee’s prostate with each thrust. He knows he’s not going to last long. 

Stanley’s face is twisted with pleasure. He’s making throaty little groans with each thrust but he makes no move to reach for his own cock. He’s holding onto Ford so tightly, not allowing even a millimetre of space between them. Clutching him close like he wants to fuse them both together. Like he wants his twin to take up residence in his chest, curled up right by his heart. Ford knows. He wants the same thing for Stanley. 

When he feels his own orgasm approaching, Ford reaches between them and strokes his twin to completion. He watches his baby’s face closely as it contorts in pure ecstasy, lips trembling around a silent cry, the sound stolen by the force of his pleasure. 

Ford follows his brother over the edge and his pleasure comes from the sweet relief of holding his brother after years through the portal. It comes from finally being able to truly revel in his triumph over Bill Cipher. It comes from the knowledge that when the universe tried to fuck him over and cheat him out of his well-earned prize, he’d taken it by force because he was Stanford Pines and he would take what he was owed, one way or another. A low groan shudders past his clenched jaws as the pleasure coils tight in his belly then shatters through him in violent, euphoric waves. Victory tastes so sweet.

He collapses beside his brother and when he can catch his breath, he gathers Lee in his arms, drops a tender kiss to his head. He presses his fingers into the marks he’s left on his little brother’s hip. He can hear the smile in Stanley’s voice when he whispers Ford’s name. Ford’s heart roars in triumph. 

-

It’s early in the afternoon and they’ve gone out exploring the forests of Gravity Falls at Ford’s insistence because, “some fresh air will do you good, Stanley.” 

Stan smiles and dutifully follows his brother as he leads him confidently through the darker areas of the forest. He tries his best to listen and follow along with Ford’s constant chatter as he points out the unusual fauna and flora native to this strange little town. At some point there’s a lull in the conversation and Stan takes the opportunity to gaze around the small clearing.

The unnatural, undulating movement of a glowing blue flower catches Stan’s eye and he wanders over to take a closer look. He casts one last glance at Ford and he can’t help the fond grin that steals across his face when he sees his brother crouched down in front of an odd coloured mushroom, sketching away in his journal. He takes note of the beginnings of greying hair near Ford’s temple and all of a sudden… he’s overcome by a strong sense of jamais vu. His heart stutters in his chest and he whips around to stare at the weird blue flower. It moves through the air as if it were underwater and any other time Stan would find it strangely beautiful. Unfortunately, at this very moment he’s trying to calm his racing heart and keep his breaths even and quiet. Most of all, he tries desperately not to focus on the feeling of his brother’s face (his twin’s face) being almost familiar but not quite right. And he especially does not think about how he’s never going to see his Sixer’s face again. Nope. Not thinking about it. He violently forces every last bit of his attention to focus on the rhythmic movement of the underwater-land flower and allows it to lull him into a feeling of weightlessness, until the world beyond it starts to blur. His heart rate finally begins to slow.

Stan startles when he feels a hand gently tilt his face up and he looks up at his brother. His heart squeezes when he sees the concerned frown on Ford’s face. Because he loves this familiar stranger. He knows he does. 

“Stanley?” Ford asks, as he runs a thumb along Stan’s bottom lip. “I called your name several times, darling. Is something wrong?”

Stanley shakes his head, “No, ‘m sorry. Got distracted, didn’t hear ya callin’ me.”

Ford’s eyes narrow and he stares deep into Stan’s eyes. He lets the silence drag on for a few long seconds before his face breaks into a soft, fond smile.

“Come along then, love. We still have much more to see.” 

Stanley breathes in. Breathes out. Then he turns and gives his brother his most reassuring smile.

“Lead the way, Sixer.”

He does his best to convince himself that this is enough.

[kathlare]

a song apart

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: Lando attends Amelie’s sold-out concert in London, drawn by curiosity and unresolved emotions. As he watches her command the stage with raw talent and vulnerability, the performance stirs feelings he thought he had buried.

Wordcount: 0.8 k

Warnings: just fluff

full masterlist // request over here!

July 2nd, 2023 - London, United Kingdom

The crowd at Hyde Park in London roared as the lights dimmed, their excitement palpable. Amelie’s emails i can’t send tour had been a massive success, with every show sold out, and tonight was no different. Fans held up their phones, their flashlight apps creating a sea of tiny stars as they waited for the star of the night. Lando Norris pulled the hood of his sweatshirt further over his head, adjusting the cap underneath for extra cover. His heart thudded in his chest—not from the noise of the crowd, but from the sheer weight of what he was doing.

What the fuck am I doing here?

That question had been circling his mind since he walked into the venue, slipping past fans unnoticed thanks to the discreet VIP entrance. He had told himself he was just curious. It had been months since he’d last seen Amelie, and even longer since they’d spoken. The idea of seeing her perform live, doing what she loved, had nagged at him until he gave in. But now, standing in the private viewing area, safely away from prying eyes, he wasn’t sure curiosity was the only reason he was here.

The crowd erupted as Amelie took the stage, her voice cutting through the din as she launched into emails i can’t send, the title track of her album. She had always been magnetic, but on that stage, she was electric.

Lando felt his chest tighten as her voice rang out, raw and emotional, hitting every note with precision and passion. He had always known she could sing; hell, he’d heard her hum melodies during their late-night gaming sessions back in 2020. But seeing her like this, commanding the attention of thousands of people, was something else entirely.

She moved seamlessly into Read Your Mind, her voice light and teasing, before transitioning to the sharp, cutting lyrics of Feather. Lando couldn’t help but smile at how her performance reflected the complexity of who she was—playful, vulnerable, and razor-sharp, all at once. The audience screamed the lyrics back at her, their adoration filling the arena.

Lando stayed hidden in the shadows, his arms crossed over his chest as he leaned against the railing. He didn’t sing along, didn’t cheer. He just watched. Watched the way she grinned at the crowd, the way she closed her eyes during the slower songs, completely lost in the music. It was a side of her he hadn’t seen before, and it hit him harder than he expected.

The set transitioned into Already Over, and Lando felt like the air had been knocked out of him. The lyrics were hauntingly familiar, like she was recounting their own story—half-finished, unresolved, and full of questions they never asked each other. He clenched his jaw, forcing himself to stay rooted in place.

—I like my bed, but it likes you, too How am I supposed to leave you now that you're already over?—

The words echoed in his mind, and for a moment, he wondered if she was thinking about him when she wrote that song. Probably not, he told himself. She had moved on, just like he had—or at least, he thought he had. But seeing her now, hearing her voice carry those emotions, made him question everything.

As the show went on, Lando found himself increasingly restless. He’d come here to see her, to satisfy some inexplicable urge, but the longer he stayed, the more conflicted he felt. Watching her sing things i wish you said was the breaking point. The lyrics were so raw, so painfully honest, that he couldn’t help but feel like she was speaking directly to him.

—I saw you met somebody and I'm jealous as hell. That I can't even stomach loving somebody else—

Fuck.

He shoved his hands into the pockets of his hoodie, his pulse racing. Why the hell had he come here? To torture himself? To dredge up feelings he had buried months ago? He didn’t have answers, only the nagging realization that being here had been a mistake.

As Amelie transitioned into how many things, her voice achingly soft, Lando made his decision. He slipped out of the viewing area and headed toward the exit, keeping his head down. The music followed him as he moved through the backstage corridors, her voice growing fainter with each step.

He left before the show ended, before the inevitable encore. But her voice stayed with him, lingering in his mind long after he stepped out into the cool London night.

By the time he got back to his car, parked discreetly far from the venue, he was questioning everything. Why he had gone. Why it still hurt. And most of all, why he couldn’t seem to let her go, even after all this time.

[unknownati]

ii. lipstick.

THIS WITH ABBY ANDERSON METHINKSSS

a/n: thanks for all the love on my first post :) <3 also can u guys tell i rlly love lip products. pls lmk if the formatting is weird or if there's grammatical errors, i wrote this on my notes app

warnings/tags?: fluffy :P reader wears lipstick, hidden relationship, internalized homophobia?? (not really) not THAT long, lowercase intended, ow*n mention 🤢 not proofread 😜🫶🏾

___________________________________________

you weren't too popular at wlf. abby, on the other hand, was known by practically everyone. everybody assumed she was straight, especially with the fact that her and owen had dated for a while. which is exactly why nobody could know about you two.

to be honest, you didn't care, but abby did, so you went with it. you'd wait 'til you were in the comfort of your dorm to cuddle her, hold her hand, shower her with affection. did you wish that you could do it more openly? yes. but it's whatever. you still tease her anyway. tracing the dips of muscle on her arm, wiping a small bit of dirt off her face but letting your thumb linger for a bit too long, smiling at her knowingly. you knew you made her heart skip a beat. but she played it off, all for the crowd.

so when you found yourself in the comfort of her bed, cuddled up in her t-shirt, you groaned when you felt the big ball of warmth leave your arms.

"where are you going?" you muttered, rubbing your eyes at the sun peeking into the blinds.

"..gotta go, isaac called a while ago." she smiles at you, her hand reaching up to cup your cheek. you rolled your eyes. so sappy.

"so? stay with me. you barely get time with me as it is."

she sighed, her lips sealing together for a moment. "you know i can't. i'll be quick, i promise," you sat up, her hand falling from your face and back to her side.

"fine. but c'mere before you go."

abby raised a brow but leaned back over you, and you hold her face between your hands to pull her in and a kiss to her lips. her face pinks, and you press another one to her forehead. then to her cheek. then another to her forehead.

you lean back, a smile spreading across your face, then immediately falling. you forgot you had lipstick on, and there were big, red stamps of evidence strung across her face.

"what? what's wrong?" she looked panicked until you laughed, waving her on.

"nothing, go ahead."

abby shook her head, rushing to the bathroom mirror before gasping. "babe! i have to leave soon!" she groaned, grabbing a tissue and quickly soaking it with water. she tried to wipe it off her face just to find that it both barely came off, but also smeared even further across her face.

you came up behind her, watching how she struggled with the pigment spreading further across her face.

"aren't you gonna help me?" she almost sounded desperate, a laugh of disbelief stuck between her words.

you shook your head, leaning against the doorframe. "..mmm..i think you got it."

__________________________________________

the sillies 🫶🏾

[sihtricfedaraaahvicius]

The Extended Booking

Note: I really had to take a break from my current wips, as I began to dislike every word I wrote, so I decided to try and start a whole new fic from scratch. This was an idea/request from @neonhairspray, a concept which we discussed as a joke but it now turned into a story. I hope you will all enjoy this lighthearted fic 🖤

Warnings: 18+! smut/fluff.

pairing: Modern!Sihtric x you (f)

summary: your stay at an airbnb came with a pleasant surprise.

wordcount: 3,4k 

Masterlist

You couldn't believe your luck when you stepped into the most beautiful Airbnb you had ever booked in your life. Your trip to an enchanting and remote spot in England's countryside had been nerve wracking to say the least, as it was your first solo trip ever, but all stress fell off your shoulders as soon as you closed the door of the spacious bungalow behind you. One of your concerns had definitely been that your booked home was too good to be true, but you couldn't stop smiling when you dropped your bags and went to explore the incredible interior of your rental for the next seven days.

The place had many windows and was painted a warm shade of white, a nice contrast with the all black furniture and dark wooden floor. The living room had everything you needed; a TV that came with a game console and every possible streaming platform, all free of use, a comfortable sofa, two lounge chairs to relax in and a nice dining table with an impressive kitchen. There were three bedrooms, all equal in size, but one was clearly meant as the main bedroom as it had a beautiful dark wooden bed with a massive headboard, and there was a matching chandelier on the ceiling as well as an unlimited supply of candles to use. There was a bathroom with a walk in shower and a jacuzzi, with the walls and floor of the room made of white marble. The bungalow also had a back porch which gave view to acres of woods surrounding the place, and there was a little pond in the distance. There was no doubt you'd spot a lot of wildlife during your stay and, to top it all off, on the very end of the porch was a hot tub which was heated by firewood.

Your whole goal of this one week trip was to find yourself again and to hit that reset button on your life. Things had been rough lately and you needed to clear your head, and you immediately knew that this was the right place to do so.

The days went by faster than you wanted while you pampered yourself daily. You enjoyed several quiet hikes in the woods, reading books in the lounge chair, taking relaxing showers and you ended each day with a nice glass of wine at night, in the hot tub outside while moon bathing. You finally found that inner peace again but you weren't ready yet to go back home. You checked the forecast for the upcoming week and saw there should be loads of rain and thunder, and after the nice and sunny days you had experienced there you could only dream of being comfortable on the sofa with a book and a drink while the rain tapped on the windows and the thunder rolled through the sky. And so when you were supposed to pack your bags to leave the next morning, you opened the Airbnb app and saw that the option to extend your stay in the wonderful little palace of peace was available. Without any hesitation you booked another full week, and you threw your phone somewhere in bed before you fell asleep, feeling like a princess in a fairytale home in the woods.

The next morning you woke up late and had your coffee while sitting on the sofa, gazing out of the massive windows as the rain started to pour down from the sky. You smiled and sipped your hot beverage, your hair still messy and uncombed while wearing an oversized shirt with bunny flip flops underneath. Life is good, you thought to yourself, for the peace and quiet was all you needed. But then your heart skipped several beats while your body froze, your fingers tightly clutched around the mug in your hands as you suddenly heard a key being shoved into a lock. You snapped your head to the front door, where the sound came from, and you held your breath as you stared at the entrance with wide eyes when it suddenly opened. You felt your cheeks heat up as you watched a handsome but rugged looking man walk in, who didn't seem to notice you, as he closed the door behind him and threw his keys on the cabinet next to it. You swallowed hard while he kicked off his shoes in the open hallway and then raked his hand through his long, dark and wild looking hair. And it was then that the handsome intruder looked up and saw you sitting on the sofa. His sofa.

'Gods, what the fuck!' he hissed as he jumped a step back and grabbed onto the cabinet to keep his balance, 'who… who the hell are you?'

'I… I,' you panicked after your mouth had gone dry, 'who are you?!' you half yelled.

'Me?!' he almost snarled, 'I own this place! Who are you?!'

'I rented the place!'

'What?' the man asked, confused as he grabbed his phone, 'no, that… wait,' he scoffed and was quick to check his agenda, 'yes, I had my house rented out until this morning. You were supposed to check out three hours ago already.'

'What? No!' you jumped up, 'no, no. I extended my stay last night. I paid for one more whole week right away!'

He stared at you, even more confused than he already was five seconds earlier, and he began to scroll through his emails, looking for any confirmation of your stay while you went to grab your own phone from the bedroom. You figured the man you were dealing with was Sihtric, who was listed as the owner of the bungalow, and you became concerned about what would happen next as you walked back to the living room. Sihtric glanced at your appearance as you walked past him, back to the sofa, and if he wasn't so confused and startled right now he would allow himself to think that you were adorable in your oversized shirt and fluffy slippers, but there was no time to flirt with a pretty lady right now.

'Look,' he said and pinched the bridge of his nose, 'I don't know what went wrong, but clearly something did go terribly wrong. My place was only supposed to be booked until this morning as I'd come back home from a business trip. Airbnb made a mistake somehow by listing it as available, when it's really not. I mean,' he scoffed, 'I live here. I literally live here.'

'But what am I supposed to do?' you scoffed back, 'I can't just pack up and leave, I already changed my train ticket. I have nowhere to go and I sure as hell ain't going to pay for another home or a hotel.'

'Well I sure as hell ain't going to pay for that either,' Sihtric almost snorted.

You stared at each other for a moment, unsure about what to do next, and he then sighed while shaking his head, 'I'll call Airbnb and ask what to do.'

You agreed and anxiously waited while you watched him talk on the phone, and before the conversation was over it already became clear that you were both kind of screwed in this situation. You would get your money back, Sihtric informed you, but there were no available rooms nearby anymore apparently, so he either had to be an asshole and throw you on the street, or he had to allow a complete stranger to share his house with him for a whole week.

And it turned out that the intimidating man wasn't as tough as you thought, because he could simply not tell you to pack your bags and leave with nowhere else to go.

After your horrendous introduction, Sihtric had left the house to get some groceries to stock up his fridge. After he came back and eventually started cooking dinner, there lingered an unbearable awkward silence while you were both in the same room. You had quietly been eyeing each other up for at least an hour already, and both averting your eyes whenever the other would catch them.

You couldn't deny the fact that Sihtric looked good. His hair was messy but in a stylish way, he had a couple of tattoos on his body and was dressed in all dark clothing, his tight jeans showing off the good shape of his legs and buttocks. He surely was muscular and you wondered what kind of work he did, as a man in such good shape was probably not an office guy.

'Look,' Sihtric said, not being able to stand the silence anymore after a while, 'I'm sorry about earlier.'

You looked up at him as you sat at the dining table.

'I had a rough week,' he continued, 'a business deal went south and I had a long flight back home. I really needed some peace and quiet when I got home and I did not expect someone to be here. I never meant to be rude, that's not who I am,' he sighed and shoved a potato dish in the oven, 'I was just surprised and in a bad mood.'

'It's okay,' you smiled, 'I am sorry too for freaking out. I had nowhere else to go if you would've kicked me out, which I could've understood, because this is your house. So I'm really thankful that you're letting me stay.'

'Yeah,' Sihtric sighed softly again, 'we'll figure this week out, don't worry.'

During dinner you both started to warm to each other and to open up. You told him about the disaster your life recently had been and why you had booked a solo trip to ground yourself again, and Sihtric in return told you that he worked in finance and often travelled all over the world to close deals for his firm. He had houses all over the globe, renting them out whenever he wasn't staying in them, and this was the first time in years that a booking had gone wrong. 

You quickly started to enjoy each other's company later that evening and agreed to play a few games on his playstation. And slowly a certain tension began to grow, which wouldn't explode until a few days later.

The weather was indeed awful in the days that followed, as the forecast had predicted. There were zero options to go out and explore the area, so you tried to keep yourself busy inside the house. You read a few more books while Sihtric worked from home, often being busy writing emails and making phone calls from his living room. You'd try and read a few pages of your book but couldn't stop your eyes wandering off to Sihtric as he was on another call, pacing back and forth in front of the window that overlooked his woods surrounding his home, and you became more and more attracted to him as the day progressed. He looked so handsome, dressed in a white shirt that showed off his figure and a pair of fancy black trousers with a black belt, and the silver watch around his wrist was the finishing touch.

Sihtric clearly had a way with words and his charm seemed to work even through the phone. He closed deal after deal during the day, while he made you dinner every evening and relaxed with you until it was time to go to bed separately. The bedroom you had chosen to stay in, with the massive headboard, was actually Sihtric's bedroom when he was alone, yet he had no trouble giving it up for another week. But after a few days you both quietly began to wonder at night what it would be like to share the bed with each other.

Every time you spent some time together you started to become closer, and suddenly faint touches began to linger and eyes began to hold contact. Hands and fingers teasingly grazed over one's arms in passing and during the evening you started to put your legs over his as you watched TV. Sihtric gave you a flirty smirk at that and gently ran his fingers across your bare legs, giving you pleasant tingles all over your body and causing you to squeeze your thighs together.

'What's the matter?' Sihtric whispered with his breathy and warm voice, the sly smile on his face telling you he knew exactly what he was doing.

'Nothing,' you feigned being composed and collected.

'Nothing,' he said with a soft chuckle, then leaned in and trailed his fingers over your neck and shoulders, 'so,' he said quietly and licked his lips, 'are you finally going to ask me fuck to you? Or are we going to pretend there's nothing here for the remainder of your stay?'

You gave him a cheeky smile and scoffed lightly.

'I have to ask you?' you raised an eyebrow, 'I thought you were the type who would just pick me up and throw me on his bed. But… I guess I was wrong,' you faked a yawn and noticed how his eyes darkened as he saw the mischief in yours.

'I'll prove you wrong,' Sihtric whispered, and he then got up from the sofa.

He grabbed your ankle and pulled you towards him, then lifted you with ease and threw you over his shoulder, to which you yelped as you laughed, and you couldn't resist giving his ass a firm slap as he carried you to his bedroom.

'Watch it,' Sihtric responded with a lighthearted threatening tone.

'Or what?' you giggled.

'Or,' he said and threw you on his bed, 'there's still time to kick you out of my house,' he said with a grin.

'Trust me,' you chuckled as you spread your legs, pulling your oversized shirt up to reveal your thighs, 'you don't want to kick me out anymore after you've had me.'

You looked up at him, smiling as you bit down on your lip while you watched him take off his leather belt and unclasp his fancy watch.

'Is that so?' Sihtric murmured and took off his shirt.

Your mouth nearly watered as his biceps looked so biteable, his shoulders looked like great leg support, and his chest was more than firm enough to place your hands on when riding him. You nodded at him and kicked your legs with anticipation as your eyes darted over his body, but you were stopped when Sihtric grabbed your ankle again to pull you swiftly towards him as he stood next to the bed. He then pulled you up by your hands and removed your shirt, exposing you completely apart from your underwear. He then told you to unbutton his trousers, which you did, and you felt his cock twitch in his boxers with each teasing brush of your palm.

'Someone's excited,' you taunted and pulled him down on the bed.

'Can you blame me?' Sihtric breathed as he grabbed your face, his lips touching yours when he spoke softly, 'you've been wandering around my house for days, barely dressed, giving me looks and touching me just enough to make it look innocent,' he paused and chuckled darkly, 'but we both know by now you're probably not that innocent, are you?'

'I guess you're about to find out,' you smiled and flicked your tongue against his lips before you sucked his lower lip gently.

Sihtric then crashed his lips onto yours, kissing you hard and deep, a kiss that told the truth about how you both had been secretly longing for each other ever since you met. You raked your hands through his loose hair, keeping him as close as possible while he slowly bucked his hips into you, both your private parts still clothed with a thin layer of fabric which became soaked with both your fluids of arousal. Sihtric pulled you on top of him, his hands massaging your breasts and his fingers occasionally pinching your nipples. He then looked up at you, his dazed mismatched eyes betrayed he was clearly hungry for more, and he kissed down your neck and to your chest, lightly sucking your breasts in between wet kisses, his tongue flicking slowly against your nipple while you grinded against his hard cock and moaned at the friction.

But it wasn't enough, and you pushed him away to quickly lower his boxers, his leaking cock jumping out. You smiled, pleased at the size of him, and you wasted no time to slowly drag your tongue up his length and you teased the tip while you looked up into his eyes. Sihtric moaned and threw his head back on his pillow, his hands finding your hair as you wrapped your lips around him and eagerly took him in your mouth, sucking him off until tears ran down your face and a mixture of drool and pre-cum running down your chin.

'Good girl,' Sihtric breathed and allowed you to catch your breath, gently pushing you away.

He didn't want to finish that quickly, not before he had giving you the fuck of a lifetime, so he grabbed your face and wiped your tears before he kissed you again. Then he picked you up in his arms and walked you to the living room, where he threw you in one of the big lounge chairs. He pulled your panties down and was quick to lift your legs upon his shoulders as he knelt down in front you. He grabbed your hips and teased you first with a few soft kisses to your wet pussy, but the taste of you was irresistible and he soon licked and sucked your folds until your legs trembled and you almost cried out his name while you grabbed onto his hair and grinded your hips against his face.

Sihtric stopped before you could finish and he kissed his way back up to your lips, letting you taste yourself as he pushed his tongue in your mouth, sloppily making out until you both couldn't take it anymore. Sihtric then quickly ran to his bathroom to grab the essentials, some condoms and lube, and you squirmed with a smile when you felt his warm hand teasingly rub your sweet spot with some lube, and he gave you just a small tease of pleasure when he slid two of his digits inside you.

'Someone's excited,' Sihtric taunted back at you this time, feeling your walls clench around his fingers while he left love bites on your neck and shoulder.

'Sihtric,' you whined, 'just fuck me already.'

'Your wish is my command, my lady,' he chuckled and then winked at you, 'it's an all inclusive stay after all.'

You barely had time to blink and he had already gotten a hold of your legs again. Sihtric got up from the comfortable chair and towered over you. He brought your legs up, holding your ankles with only one hand as he pressed them against his chest, with his other hand holding your waist firmly as he slowly entered you, giving you some time to adjust before fucking you relentlessly in that same position. He kept your legs pressed together as he refused to let go of your ankles, which caused him to grunt and moan heavily as you felt so tight around him, and it made you cry out in pleasure all the same while you grabbed onto the various pillows around you as he continuously hit that right spot deep inside you. And he didn't stop pounding into you until you came, with his own release following shortly after.

Once all cleaned up, Sihtric wrapped you in a blanket and threw one over his own shoulders before you both sat on the sofa, his arms around you while you rested your head against his chest, both tired but satisfied.

'How many more days are you staying?' he wondered quietly out loud as he nuzzled your neck and left soft kisses on your skin.

'Only two more,' you whispered, a little sadly while you both listened to the rain as it tapped against the windows and on the flat roof, and you took his hand to press a kiss to the back of it.

'Well, I think you should extend your stay,' Sihtric said softly and squeezed you in his arms, 'for free this time.'

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