#a hand in her hips and the other holding the flip-flop

[harpershigh]

Sometimes I think I'm portraying Jaheira too much as a latina mom but then I remember Jord's phrase about her — that she was more often Commander than mother dear...

And I think "hm yeah, that's about right. :)"

[brunetttebaby]

abby finding out about ur hand/arm kink (a lil self indulgent but🧟‍♀️🧟‍♀️) very smutty

she started to notice your gaze drifting to her muscular arms and pretty hands, a few times. maybe it was just a coincidence, she thought to herself. surely if you liked something like that, she’d know about it by now?

wrong. it was a secret to be kept, but evidently not well. when you two cuddle you grab her hand, commenting how much smaller yours is, and how big hers are. it was suspicious, but she let it go.

she only realized when she was fucking you, your legs shaking. shoving two fingers down your throat seemed to make you not only cum faster, but completely gush around her cock.

“shit, squeezing around me so hard. what if i…” she paused, flipping you onto your stomach, her cock still deep inside you. “abs, what’re you-!!” she began to pound you, a hand wrapping around your throat, the other holding your hip.

“don’t act so shocked, princess. i know how long you’ve wanted my hands around your throat.” she lowered to whisper in your ear, a warmth filling your cheeks.

“cmon baby, want you to cum around my cock. wanna feel that pussy gush f’me.”

god, her voice alone drove you crazy. “fuck!! abs, i!!” you cried out, biting on your bottom lip to try and keep the noises to a minimum.

but she wouldn’t slow. “that’s it, baby,” she cooed, her breath brushing against your ear. “you can do it. use that pretty dumb little head of yours.”

a/n; i think my ellie fic was a flop but it’s okay🧟‍♀️🧟‍♀️sub ellie isn’t common anyways. hope yall enjoy this a little more🫶🏽

[hyuburt]

I think Fantasy High would look good animated in the total drama style since they’re both chalk full of chaotic sweaty teenage energy. Here are the bad kids on their first day of school

[ID: Two images of the same lineup of characters, with the top one being the colored version and the lower one being the line art. They depict the six main characters from D20′s Fantasy High from tallest to smallest; Gorgug, Fabian, Kristen, Adaine, Fig, and Riz. They are all drawn and colored mostly in line with canon, with some slight variations to accommodate the total drama style. Gorgug’s eyes were stylized into two white dots with slight bags underneath, and he is standing upright with his hands nervously brought up to his chest with a slightly timid expression on his face. His hoodie is a slightly de-saturated purple with grey sweatpants and purple sneakers. He has dark green skin and black wavy hair that falls above one eye. His wobbly, down-turned mouth has a tusk poking out of the higher side (he normally has two, it’s just the way his expression was drawn made it so only one was visible.) His face shape and nose are rounded to give him a softer appearance and there are two little lines indicating the beginning of teenage stubble on his chin. Next to him on the right is Fabian, who stands with his arms crossed and his head turned haughtily to the right, a smug expression on his face. He is wearing his red owlbear jacket with white sleeves, greyish brown loose workout pants, a black undershirt, and red sneakers. He has brown skin and swept back white hair that is shaved on the sides. His nose slopes downwards and he has two eyelashes under both eyes to denote that he is a fancy, pretty boy. He is drawn with a strong, square jawline and a build that is both muscular yet nimble.To his right is Kristen who has a stocky, more rounded build and is wearing a rainbow tie dye shirt with a simplified corn logo in the center, denim shorts, green flip flops, and a rainbow bracelet. She has curly orange hair that curls around her round face, light tan skin with freckles, bushy orange eyebrows, an upturned nose, and dark green eyes that are upturned in a smile. To her right is Adaine, who is slouched slightly with her arms crossed and an unhappy expression on her face as she looks off to the ground. She is wearing blue circular glasses over her round blue eyes, her blue two-piece hudol uniform, knee-high grey socks, and black mary jane shoes. She has light brown skin and short, straight blonde hair swept back from the front of her face in a widow’s peak. She has a small, pointy nose and a circular face with a small pointy chin. Above her is a version of her face without her glasses. To her right is Fig, who is standing proudly with one hand on her hip and the other in a finger gun. She has light reddish skin and brown hair in a braid that has a bright purple streak in her bands and at the end of her braid like it was dipped in paint. She has a long, pointy face and a slightly hooked nose. Her eyes are a dark pomegranate color and slightly upturned. She is wearing purple lipstick, a short leather jacket with a cropped grey shirt underneath it that has a picture of a horned skull on it, a black choker, fingerless gloves on both hands, a plaid skirt and belt with black leggings underneath, dark brown boots, and a single fishnet coming up to her calf on her right leg. To her right is Riz, who is holding a magnifying glass up to his face with one eye squinted to see through it and his other hand on his hip. A single fang peeks through the corner of his small smile. He has a green tail that swishes in front of him. He is wearing his signature brown cap and two piece suit with mauve pants, vest, and tie. His skin is light green with freckles under his eyes, his eyes are light greenish-yellow with slits for pupils, and his hair is dark green and swept back under his cap. Above him is a version of his head without his cap, showing that his hair is swept back from the front and curls away from his face, giving him a windswept appearance.]

[hysteria-things]

✿ PROMISE? ✿ PART EIGHT.

ʚ♡ɞ 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 | 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 ʚ♡ɞ

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: chris x fem!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: when matt brings you to his house after the pits, chris butts in to take good care of you throughout the night.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: swearing, intoxication, being hungover

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,930

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: i know this series is kind of a flop but i don’t care because i love it😜

however i want to try and get a fic out every day PLUS a part of this so i can have it finished since it’s mostly finished in my notes already. can’t promise anything though since i’m a busy gal but that’s the plan i got!

𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐈𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐌 while chris sits on the couch scrolling on his phone. matt left in a hurry before and didn't explain to him why. then, the front door opens. he hears matt’s voice which is in a low tone. “chris!” he whisper-yells. chris looks up to see his brother carefully walking over to him with you ragdoll-like in his arms. chris’s eyes widen in disbelief. “what the fuck did you do?”

matt rolls his eyes. “i didn't do anything. she went to that stupid rage tonight that’s been the talk of the town. she’s lucky she was able to call me to pick her up.”

“jesus,” chris whispers, shaking his head. “i got her from here.”

he holds out his arms as matt helps her walk to him. you smile at chris with lust in your eyes before they fall heavy. matt sighs, placing his hands on his hips. “thank you, matt,” chris says.

“yes. thank you.” you laugh, giving him a weak wave.

“let’s get you upstairs.” chris groans, carefully making his way to the staircase.

matt follows you up the stairs which took longer than they had anticipated. you felt his hand rest on your back for extra support. their parents are sleeping, so you guys have to be extra careful. on the flip side, the boys have to shush you from your giggles. “are you sure you don't need help?” matt asks as he stops in front of his bedroom door.

chris shakes his head. “no, i got it.”

matt opens his door at the same time nick opens his. he stops abruptly, staring at you and then chris repeatedly before speaking. “how long was i in there?” he points over his shoulder into his room.

“oh my god, nick!” you shout. “hi!”

the three of them shush you, nick shaking his head with a sigh. “i need to piss,” he says, walking to the bathroom.

both you and chris get into his room and he plops you onto the bed. you groan, bringing your hands up to your face. he hears you mumble words he can’t make out, observing that you switch moods fast when drunk. he marches over to his closet to pull out a fresh love hoodie, making sure to pull out a 2XL so it can cover you enough to make you feel comfortable. “okay, y/n,” he starts, placing the hoodie neatly next to you. you remove your hands from your face and stare at him. that hint of lust is still in your eyes, but he doesn’t know if it is from the weed and alcohol or not.

mentally taking a note, chris notices that you reek of drugs, too.

“change into this and i’ll throw your clothes in the wash to have ready for tomorrow. you can't sleep in that.”

you sit up and nod. “okay.”

with the little strength you have, you stand on your feet and grab the hoodie. “i’ll step out.” he exits the room, screeching at the sight of nick standing inches from the doorway. “christ, nick. what do you want?”

“what i want is an explanation.”

“It's nothing, nick. she’s just hammered. she can't go home looking like that.”

“being hammered isn’t nothing,” he says, tapping his foot. his face changes to panic. “oh no, what if she has alcohol poisoning or something? what if she dies and we're witnesses? i cannot tolerate that.”

“shut up, you're being dramatic. she’s fine. she needs rest.”

nick brings his hand up to his chest and exhales. “good. i’m going to bed now. thank you for your time.”

sighing, chris faces the door and knocks on it. “you can come in.” he hears a muffle from the other side. he opens the door and sees you sitting on the bed, staring at the wall. the clothes you were previously wearing are bunched up on the floor. he picks them up and you stare at him. “i’ll throw these in the washing machine. are you okay? do you need anything?”

you shake your head weakly. “no.”

after starting the washing machine, chris went back upstairs to get himself ready to sleep. he did a quick change in the bathroom and headed back to the room. this time, you’re under the covers, zoning out as you stare at the ceiling. you don’t acknowledge him until he stands next to you. you blink and look at him with a soft smile.

“you’re cute,” you say as you take your hands to squish both of his cheeks. then, you turn on your side and close your eyes. chris shakes his head, plugging in both of your phones and opening up yours.

your password is 2-4-6-8-1-0. he remembers that ever since you got your phone in middle school, the reason being that you were oddly never good at the two-times tables. he always found that pretty amusing. right now, he has to put on his best y/n impression and tell your mom that you’re okay. kind of.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ✿ ⋆⁺₊⋆

“𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐌𝐄.” 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐆𝐑𝐔𝐌𝐁𝐋𝐄, 𝐑𝐔𝐁𝐁𝐈𝐍𝐆 your eyes as the sun blinds you awake. your head is fucking pounding. you flutter your eyelids before fully opening them, examining the room that you’re in. it sure isn’t yours. nor are you in your bed.

you think back to the bits and pieces of last night. calling matt, picking you up, bringing you back to his place, chris—

chris.

this is chris’ room. a room you’ve been in hundreds of times because of sleepover weekends back in elementary. you look at the huge hoodie you’re in — which is insanely comfortable — with your clothes neatly folded on the nightstand. you then glance at the floor and see a pillow with a blanket messily placed on top of it. the door slowly opens and chris peeks his head in. he smiles when he sees you, fully stepping into the room and closing the door. “good morning.”

“hi.” you rasp.

“i got you some water and a fuckton of ibuprofen. i’m sure you need it.” he holds up the drink and painkillers that are in his hands. “how’d you sleep?”

“like the dead.”

“that’s good at least.” he shrugs, putting the water and ibuprofen on the surface next to your clothes. you dart your eyes back down at the ground and up at him. “did you seriously sleep on the floor? you could've told me to move.”

he shrugs. “i didn’t have a reason to. you needed the rest more than i did.”

“stop being so fucking nice,” you say, rubbing the crust from the corner of your eyes once more.

he laughs before speaking. “i texted your mom from your phone, by the way. i had to put my y/n face on to do it, which i think i nailed. said you were staying at your friend’s house. that isn't a lie technically now that i think of it. it’s just that if i told her you were sleeping over here in my bed, i’m scared she'll come after me then you.” he brings his finger up to his chin as he rambles about.

your eyes widen at the mention of your mom. “oh shit, i didn't even think about my mom. you saved my life.”

“speaking of moms, mine made breakfast. it’s…” he pauses to look at his phone. “10:30. better get some before it gets cold. there are also some pajama pants in my closet you can throw on to come downstairs.”

“okay.”

that’s all you can say, severely overwhelmed by the hospitality. as much as you hate being abandoned by your friends at a place you aren’t familiar with, the triplets are too nice to do this. you would’ve left your ass there if you were them.

throwing on red plaid pajama pants that are way too big for you; the strings are the tightest they can be, and it is still a little loose. you take the ibuprofen chris gave you and approach the door.

walking out of the room, you see a glimpse of people in the kitchen. marylou spots you first, beaming when she realizes it’s you after a few seconds. “y/n! i didn’t know you slept over. are you going back to the tradition?”

shrugging sheepishly, you laugh. “we’ll see how it goes.”

“go sit down with the boys at the table. i’ll make a plate for you,” she says, starting to immediately prep an extra dish.

“oh, you don’t have—”

“i insist.” she lifts her hand to cut you off.

“you better listen to the lady.” jimmy starts. “don’t. poke. the bear.”

she slaps his arm. “don’t listen to him. go sit, I'll bring your plate to you shortly.”

you follow chris into the dining room that is attached to the living room. nick and matt are next to each other, and you and chris sit on the opposite side of them. the three of them already finished half of their food. “y/n, y/n, y/n,” nick sighs, shaking his head. “you are a wild one.”

you roll your eyes. “it was only a few drinks.”

“i’m surprised you didn’t throw up on me.” matt chimes in. “anyway, how are you feeling this morning?”

“my head is pounding. i practically inhaled all of the ibuprofen upstairs.”

“the pits are bad news. don’t do it again.” matt scolds, pointing his finger at you like a mad parent.

“it’s not worth it, honestly.” nick agrees, chewing on his food. “the parties here can get too intense, sometimes. especially if it's in the middle of nowhere. i’d piss my pants.”

“here’s your plate, hun,” marylou says, placing the waffles and bacon on the placement. she already has the waffles cut up for you and even brought you some apple juice. too nice is not enough words to describe this family.

you’re playing with the food when chris nudges you with his knee. you face him, not realizing how close you are to each other, shoulders touching and all. “do you like… remember anything from last night?” he asks hesitantly.

you sigh. “i remember matt bringing me back here and passing out on your bed.”

chris nods, glancing away for a moment. he looks a little upset when you say that. “why? did i do something wrong?” you ask with a hint of panic.

“no, no, of course not. i was just curious.” the side of his mouth lifts slightly.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ✿ ⋆⁺₊⋆

𝐁𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓 is, he drops you off at home. he’s the only one with a license, so he's the designated driver. chris lets you keep the hoodie and pajama pants, the clothes you were wearing wrapped over your arm. your mom comes sprinting from the kitchen when she hears the front door open. “i was worried about you.” she says, hugging you. good thing you didn't smell as bad, or you would be in huge trouble.

“i texted you, didn't i?” you ask.

god bless chris.

“yes, but it was just really late. you know how i get.”

“i know, but i’m fine.”

“whose clothes are those?” she asks, eyeing you from head to toe.

“jaiden’s.” you lie. “she lent them to me since i didn't have anything to sleep over in.”

“alright. next time text me earlier, okay?”

you nod, walking into your room to get things for your everything shower. you place your robe and fresh clothes on the sides of the sink. while undressing, your phone lights up. glancing down at it, you blush at the name that appears.

butlerkevin started following you.

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @moncherriis @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @raysmayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @tworosesblackthorn @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani @sturniolosandmoree @hearrtsturns @stars4matt @freshsturns @etershine @tpvmz @sukiipjs @h3arts4harry @sturnioloblogs @creamoncreamoncream2 @ivyyyyyysposts @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @mbsbaby @mattsdollie @thesturniolos @nononopenono1 @bitchydragonparadise @gdsvhtwa @hrt-attack @dwntwn-strnlo @venusbabysblog @meerkatzthings @bernardsbendystraws @hoes4matthew

[blueskrugs]

'tis the damn season | Matthew Tkachuk

today's the unofficial official start to summer, so here's a 4th of July Matty fic I couldn't bear to hold on to for another month. once upon a time, kim @troubatrain wrote another matthew fic by the same title, but i'm fairly confident this is entirely different. as usual, @wyattjohnston was my enabler in writing this.

length: 3.0k words

It’s late when you finally peel yourself off the Adirondack chair you claimed hours ago next to the bonfire, empty seltzer can dangling from your fingertips. The bonfire has died off, barely more than some embers and the occasional spark. Even the fireworks that have been echoing around the lake for days have petered out. It’s just you, Matthew and Taryn left outside, all your other friends having wandered off to find somewhere to sleep—except you think Taryn might have also fallen asleep, wrapped up in one of Matthew’s old Calgary sweatshirts and a beach towel. 

Matthew watches you with heavy eyes, watches as you stretch sleepily and the big T-shirt you’d thrown on over your swimsuit rides up over your hips. 

“Don’t drive home,” Matthew says, so low you barely hear him. 

“What?” you ask. You’re not heading back to the city until after the long weekend is over, and your parents’ lake house is just a couple of miles away. 

“Don’t leave, there’s a lot of drunk idiots out still,” he says again, standing too. You and your friends were some of those drunk idiots earlier in the day, but you don’t point that out. 

“Dude, I’m fine,” you tell Matthew. You turn to look for your flip-flops. “It’s not far, and I stopped drinking a while ago.”

Matthew grabs you by the hip. The night has cooled off, but Matthew’s hand feels hot on your skin. “I’m not worried about you being stupid, I’m worried about something happening to you,” Matthew says. “Don’t go.”

You didn’t pack enough clothes to spend the night—you’d always been planning on heading back to your parents’ at the end of the night. The house was crowded with friends of Matthew and Taryn. 

“There’s nowhere left for me to sleep,” is what you end up saying.

Matthew tightens his grip. You step closer. “Sleep in my bed.”

You’d done it before, but not since before Matthew had moved to Michigan to play for the USNTDP. Not since before your crush on Matthew had shifted from something childish to something more like pining. You stare up at him, his blue eyes serious, clear even in the moonlight. 

One of the logs on the dying bonfire pops and shifts, sending out a spray of sparks. You both startle, moment broken. Matthew takes a half-step back from you. You hadn’t realized how far you’d both leaned in. Taryn stirs somewhere behind you.

“Fine,” you say quietly. “I’ll stay.” 

Matthew grins at you. You shake your head at him as you finally turn to walk inside.

You think you hear Taryn murmur, “Get a room,” as you pass her. 

The lake house is a mess. You survey it with dismay for a moment: there’s people passed out on several different couches, empty cans and bottles scattered across most surfaces, and remnants of dinner still sitting out in the kitchen. You drop your own empty can into the recycling near the door and wander quietly through the first floor, picking up what you can. You haven’t been at it very long when Matthew steps inside as well, gently shutting the door behind him. He clicks his tongue at you when he spots you in the kitchen, loading the dishwasher.

“I thought you were going to bed,” he whispers.

“I got distracted,” you whisper back. 

Matthew trails his fingertips across your side as he steps past you to open the fridge. You shiver, and not because the AC is turned down low. Matthew pulls two bottles of Gatorade out, offers one to you. 

You take it, suddenly surprised at how thirsty you are. 

Matthew watches in amusement for a moment as you chug a third of the bottle, before he says, “C’mon, it’s past your bedtime.”

“It’s not that late—” you try to protest, before you catch a glimpse of the time on the microwave clock. Almost 2 AM. “Oops,” you say instead. 

Matthew flicks off the kitchen light and heads upstairs.

You make a pit stop in Taryn’s room on your way down the hall to Matthew’s room. The door creaks as you open it, and you wince, squinting at the bed, where three of Taryn’s field hockey teammates are sleeping. No one moves. You steal a pair of shorts to sleep in and sneak back out. 

Matthew is waiting for you, again, perched on the edge of his bed. The shower in his ensuite is running, steam filtering through the ajar door. “Shower’s ready for you, if you want,” he says.

There’s a bottle of your face wash and a toothbrush with your initials Sharpied onto the handle underneath his sink, the same way they have been since you were 14. You take a fast shower and try not to think too much about it. 

You run into Matthew when you walk out of the bathroom. Literally. You're bumped backwards, into the doorjamb. Matthew doesn’t step away. You’re still wearing one of his T-shirts. 

“I was just—I need—” Matthew stutters. 

“Matty—” you breathe, before Matthew’s lips crash into yours. He tastes like beer and sunscreen, and you wrap your hands around the back of his neck so you can pull him closer. 

Matthew breaks the kiss first, but he doesn’t go far, pressing his forehead to yours. It could have been seconds, or it could have been hours. 

“I was just going to brush my teeth,” Matthew whispers. 

You make a face instead of kissing Matthew again. His face is still so close to yours. 

“Good, you need it,” you whisper back. Matthew rolls his eyes at you, presses a kiss to your forehead before ducking into the bathroom. 

You’re sprawled out in the center of Matthew’s bed when he re-emerges, watching the ceiling fan turn lazily above you. You feel drunk, like the room’s spinning, too, but you think that might just be proximity to Matthew. You should have just found a couch or a corner of floor to sleep on. 

“No way,” Matthew says, standing at the foot of the bed. “Scoot over.” 

You think about pushing it, just to see if Matthew would push back, but you scoot over. Matthew flops onto the bed next to you in the space you just left, then rolls on top of you, anyway, braced with his hands next to your head. 

You take a second to just look at him. You’ve been sneaking glances all day, over the rim of a seltzer can, from underneath your sunglasses, across the boat. It had felt illicit then, but now Matthew is right in front of you, blue eyes meeting yours. His curls are getting long, messy from being in and out of the lake water all day. He’s always tan now—living in Florida all winter does that—but he’s sunburned across his nose and across the tops of shoulders. You lift one hand and skim a finger down his nose, across his jaw.

“I miss you,” you blurt. It’s not what you had meant to say, but now that you’ve said it, you’re not sure what else there is to say.

Matthew laughs softly. “I’m right here, babe,” he says.

He’s here now, but it won’t be long until summer’s over, and he’ll be gone again. Back to the real world. You don’t know the last time you and Matthew were able to spend time together like this, don’t know if you’ll ever get this time again. It’s always been one thing after another—injuries, or vacations, or work. You don't talk the way you used to, either. Matthew's schedule clashes with yours so often that neither of you have time for hours-long phone calls anymore.

Matthew drops to an elbow and brushes your hair out of your face. You try not to sigh. His hand is on your knee next, by his ribs with your feet flat on the bed. You don’t stop him as his hand starts to slide up your thigh, closer to the hem of his T-shirt, riding up your hips again. 

Matthew drags a line of kisses down your neck. You can’t stop your sigh this time. Matthew comes up for air, tucks another strand of hair behind your ear. It’s humid outside and in Matthew’s bed; you can’t breathe, gasp for air. His hand is back on your hip, burning hot on your skin. 

He asks, “Yeah?” 

You can feel his breath on your cheek. He’s panting, too, and it’s nice to know that he’s as wrapped up in this as you are, at least for this moment. That he might want you almost as bad as you want him. That he’s wanted you as long as you’ve wanted him.  

You don’t trust yourself to get any words out, just nod. 

“Think you can stay quiet?” Matthew says, before sealing his lips on yours again. 

▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰

You wake up late the next morning, the ghost of Matthew’s fingers still on your skin. He’s in bed, too, tangled in the sheets, head turned away from you. Distantly, you hear the sounds of the rest of the house stirring, your friends laughing, coffee brewing. You don’t make any move to get up.

You’re still laying there later—15 minutes, 30 minutes, you’re not sure—when Matthew starts to stir. He rolls over quickly, almost panicked, but he relaxes and smiles when he sees you still lying next to him. 

“Hi,” he says dumbly. He fumbles for his phone, but it’s not beside him. “What time is it?” His words and eyes are still heavy with sleep.

You don't know either; you must have left your phone downstairs last night;. You shrug and stretch. Matthew watches you closely, the way your body moves beneath the sheets. You feel your cheeks flush. 

“Dunno,” you say. Closer to noon than early morning, if you had to guess by the way the light is slanting through the partially closed blinds. “Late,” you add. 

Matthew grins at you and props himself up on one elbow. You have to resist the urge to reach up and tug on his curls, even messier now from your hands and sleep. 

“Then I don’t think anyone will miss us if we stay in bed a little longer,” he says, leaning over to kiss you.

You indulge him and his morning breath for a few moments. Wrapped up in your own little bubble, twisted together in Matthew’s sheets, you can pretend just a little longer—that this is real, that it won’t disappear the second you step through that doorway and back into a world where other people and other obligations exist. But then your stomach rumbles and shatters your illusion.

You push Matthew away by the shoulders—gently, though part of you wants to be harsh with him, hurt him the way you know he’s going to break your heart. Matthew goes easily, but you see the flash of furrowed brow before he smooths his expression back into something easygoing. 

“Not that I’m not enjoying this,” you say, “but I need something to eat.” 

Matthew raises his eyebrows at you. “I’ve got an idea of what I want to eat,” he leers. 

You knee him in the chest in retaliation.

“Oof,” Matthew complains, but he’s laughing. 

He rolls off of you, rubbing his chest and pouting at you. You just roll your eyes and slide out of bed. You hunt the floor for the shorts you’d been wearing when you went to bed, trying to ignore the way you can feel Matthew staring at your ass. Your shorts ended up across the room, by the bathroom door. When you turn around again, Matthew is pulling on a shirt. There’s a hickey on his collarbone that you hazily remember leaving there. He sees you looking as his bare skin disappears and smirks at you before throwing another clean shirt of his at your face. 

You grab the hem of the shirt you’re wearing, but say, “Turn around.”

Matthew gapes at you. “It’s nothing I didn’t see last night,” he tells you. 

It feels different in the daylight, though. You stare Matthew down until he heaves a sigh and turns his back. 

You poke Matthew in the ribs when you’ve finished changing. It didn’t go unnoticed by you that Matthew gave you a shirt with his number stamped on the left shoulder to wear. Matthew reaches to take your hand as you start down the stairs, but you pull away and run ahead of him.

This isn’t like that. 

“Oh, you’re both alive,” Taryn calls when she sees you. “We were thinking about sending someone up to check on you.” 

You and Matthew exchange a look. You don’t miss Taryn smirking from her spot on the couch. 

“Where is everybody?” Matthew says, instead of saying anything to give Taryn any more ammunition. The house has quieted down. There’s still a few of Taryn’s teammates lounging around, but it looks like more of Matthew’s friends have cleared out.

“Weather’s shitty, people started leaving after breakfast,” she says. 

Outside the windows that overlook the lake, there’s fog clinging to the water. It looks chilly out, and you shiver. You tell yourself it’s because of the cold, and not because Matthew is standing so close to you that you can feel his body heat. He nudges your elbow, and he’s holding a cup of coffee out to you, already the perfect color for you to drink it. You shoot him a grateful smile as you take it; your fingers brush, and you try not to jerk your hand away. 

“Nobody even said good-bye,” Matthew gripes.

You laugh, but it’s Taryn who says: “Maybe because you’re a shit host.”

Matthew gasps in outrage and throws a discarded can koozie at her. It falls weakly to the floor halfway to the couch, and all of you burst out laughing. You and Matthew move easily around each other in the kitchen, piecing together leftovers and assembling your breakfasts. It sends a pang through your chest, the familiarity of it, even as the years and distance build a canyon between your relationship. You don’t know when Matthew went from being your best friend, to the boy you dreamed of marrying one day, to the guy you knew so well yet barely knew at all. 

You feel like you can’t breathe.

“That’s disgusting,” you say, watching Matthew take a bite out of a cold bratwurst straight from the fridge.

Matthew shrugs. “What?” he says with his mouth full. “It’s a sausage, people eat sausage for breakfast all the time!” 

“But not—oh, fuck you, never mind,” you say. 

You escape the kitchen, slipping through the back door to the porch. The bonfire from last night has long since burned out entirely, but you drop into one of the chairs beside it anyway, where you eat your breakfast undisturbed. When your plate is cleared, you wander down to the dock.

The late morning sun has finally started to burn away the fog, but the air is still cool. You sit down on the edge of the dock and let your feet dangle in the water. It’s quiet, especially for the day after the holiday; the weather has scared people indoors. You shiver again. You only have a few minutes of peace before you hear footsteps behind you. You don’t have to turn around to know that they belong to Matthew.

He drops down onto the dock behind you, drapes his legs off the edge on either side of yours. He wraps his arms around your shoulders, and you let yourself lean back into his chest. Neither of you speak.

You’d been here once before, sitting on this dock with Matthew. You were younger then. Matthew had just been drafted, and you were heading off to college. You’d both been on the verge of something big, and you thought maybe it had been your chance to do big things, together. You wonder if Matthew is thinking of that night, too, of the silence in the darkness of midnight, when you’d both slipped away.

Matthew presses his lips to your shoulder, where the collar of your shirt—his shirt—has slid down and exposes your bare skin. 

“Would you wait for me?” you asked, 18 years old and so, so scared of losing everything you had ever known. Desperately trying to hold onto Matthew.

“Would you?” he asked back. “Would you still be ready for me in another few years?” You both knew you couldn’t even imagine following Matthew to Calgary until you had graduated, unwilling to sacrifice your own future for a possible one with Matthew.

You had waited. You had been waiting for Matthew for even longer than you were willing to admit. Even when you were in other relationships, you felt like you were just waiting for something else. For someone else. You wondered now what your life would look like if you had said yes to Matthew on the dark dock all those summers ago, if you’d waited for each other. You couldn’t wait any longer. 

“You could stay for a few more days,” Matthew says. 

“You know I can’t,” you say. You reach back so you can run your hand through his hair. One last time. “Think we could do this again sometime?” Matthew asks. “You know we can’t,” you say. Matthew sighs. You can feel the tension in his body. He’s ready for a fight, but you don’t know if you have the energy for it. You lean more of your weight against him, and he holds you up, strong and steady.

Matthew takes a moment before he responds. “We could,” he argues. “We could do this forever.” Your heart hurts. You know he doesn't mean it.

“Matthew,” you say, quietly. “Matthew, please.” “Why not?” he asks. “We’re good together, aren’t we?”

You are, and you wish you didn’t know just how good it could be between you. In your head, you see all the things you could have, all the things you should have done. It’s so, so tempting. 

“I think we both know why we didn’t try ‘us’ when we were 18, Matty,” you tell him. The petty arguments, the way you were both so stubborn that hanging out ended in slamming doors just as often as it didn't. You always came back, but you don't know if you can do it much longer.

You move to leave, and Matthew slides back to allow it. You let him offer you a hand as you stand up. Matthew squeezes your hand once, quickly, just before you let go. You leave him sitting on the dock. You don’t look back as you make your way back up to the house. 

Some things are best left in the past.

[fatbiatchforever]

No Sleep

“Buckkkk…” You try to shake him off but he wouldn’t quit. “Bucky, I’m tired. Try later.”

“Sleep.” Bucky groaned. 

“Take your hands off then!”

“My hands are off.”

“Then why- OH MY GOD!”

You leap out of the bed to switch the lights on. “Get out! Get outtttt!” You cry while jumping with all your might.

Bucky gets out of the bed CALMLY to stand in-front of you, with his hands on his hips, “I’m confused.”

You shriek as you feel something crawling all over you, “There’s something on the bed.”

He looks back and turns to you, “I see nothing.”

“That’s because you didn’t look dumbass.”

He sighs and rummages through the bed.

“Shake the blanket properly. God, I can still feel it crawl all over me.”

“Are you sure that you felt it doll? Maybe-“

“Are you victim blaming?”

He flops down on the bed, “Who’s the victim here?”

“Me! Unknown creature crawling all over me. Who else?”

Bucky points to himself, “Or me, who is awake because his wife supposedly felt something crawling all over her.”

“I’m getting a divorce you liar. You promised to protect me.”

“From real things.”

You groan, “Whatever. What’s the use being married to an avenger if I still have to deal with insects?” 

“I bring more to the table,” Bucky pouts.

“Sarcasm won’t find whatever that was.”

Bucky picks your pillow to search, “Nothing.” He picks his pillow, “Surprise, nothing.” He removes all the pillows and blanket away, “Nothing!”

“Bucky, I know I felt something. Plea- FUCK FUCKKKKKK,” You exit the room in full speed. Away from the humungous spider crawling on your bed frame and your husband cursed under his breath.

You leaned on the couch, wrapping your hands around yourself, stopping yourself from thinking about the spider crawling all over you, while you slept cluelessly.

“Doll,” Bucky slowly appears out of the room.

“Is it gone?”

“Yeah. Spider is officially free.”

“You promise?“

“I promise. I flipped the bed around to be sure.”

“Okay. I’m sorry, I promise I’ll work on it.”

Bucky laughs, “Can I hold you?”

“Mhm,”

He walks towards you, pulls his hands out of his pocket and wraps himself around you. You felt yourself slightly slump on him and breathe all of him in. One of his hands wrapped around your waist as he pulled you closer and the other gently stroking the nape of your neck.

“I’m sorry for screaming.” You breathed out.

He pressed a kiss between your brows, “I’m sorry for not believing you.”

“Water under the bridge.”

“Hmm, don’t bother working on it.”

You move back to look up at him, “Really?”

He laughs, “Yeah, I like being there for you. You’re always so independent, which I love and respect, but at times I like being needed.”

“I need you more than just to get rid of insects.”

“Yeah. What I’m trying to say is,” He kissed your nose, “don’t change yourself for me and I would happily spend any night getting rid of spiders or anything else that crawls on you.”

“Who’s going to get rid of you?”

“Funny. Let’s go back.”

“I need a shower.”

Bucky sighs, “Fine, I’ll make the bed.”

You kiss him and quickly run into the washroom to scrub every bit of your body.

*1 hour later*

Kill me, Kill me right NOWWWW!

You turn to stare down at the damn digital clock. Every time you tried to close your eyes, you would want to itch. You looked back at Bucky. He had his arm around you and half of his face covered by the pillow. You moved his arm as gently as you could. You grabbed a blanket and pranced into the living room. 

You got yourself comfortable on the floor, holding onto your blanket as you blankly looked out to the city lights. 

“OW!”

“I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

“Yeah. What are you doing sneaking up on me and stepping on my hair?”

He lifts your head to place the pillow and lays next to you.

“Buck, go back and sleep. I’m great here.”

He pulls the blanket to your neck, “Would you go back to bed if I asked you?”

You sighed and pulled yourself closer to him.

“I love you, doll.”

[fandomfucker]

Self-Conscious-Rhea Ripley X Gn!Reader

Summary: Reader gets uncomfortable in clothes while out on date with girlfriend Rhea Ripley, Rhea gives reader jacket

A/N: Happy pride month!🏳️‍🌈 Im actually on vaca rn (where I got the idea for this) so get ready for a couple more (long) fic drops this week. 

Word Count: 1,192

2nd Person POV

With your girlfriend Rhea Ripley's wrestling career, she was constantly on the move. So, whenever she was home, you two always made the most of it.

And, to keep the relationship from getting boring or too repetitive, you tried to have as many date nights as you could.

You'd both dress up a little bit and then go out and have fun. Sometimes to a nearby theme park, the movies, coffee, bowling, zoos, or aquariums, you name it and it was at least on the list of date ideas if it hadn't already happened yet.

On this particular date night, the two of you had decided to go out and play minigolf before going to get ice cream. Since Rhea was currently out injured and you worked remotely, you had thought it was the perfect opportunity to take a cute little beach vacation for the week.

And while, yes, technically the whole week was one big date, having official little dates throughout the week intermitted between you just hanging out was really nice.

Finishing up getting dressed in the condo you'd rented, you did a quick turn in the mirror, looking at your new outfit from all angles. It was a pair of your favorite jean shorts and some plain black flip-flops paired with a new top you'd gotten from one of the beach stores.

It was a bit on the more revealing side, something you weren't quite as used to as your girlfriend who regularly went on live television in front of thousands wearing very little clothing.

Debating on whether or not to bring your trusty zip-up hoodie with you to wear should you get too cold or uncomfortable, you decided against it, feeling super hot and confident in your new outfit.

"Babe! Are you ready yet?" Rhea came bounding around the corner into your bedroom, swinging herself on the doorframe. "Ooh, babe you look good!"

She came up behind you and held your hips as she kissed your shoulder, looking at the way the two of you fit together in the mirror.

You smiled at her and pulled her arms around your hips to fully encircle you, holding on to them like a safety bar as you watched your movements in the mirror in front of you.

"Mmm." You hummed in agreement as you studied the two of you, "We look good, babe." You corrected.

"We do." She kissed your shoulder again before resting her chin on top of it. "You ready to go get your ass kicked?"

You feigned a large gasp as you turned around in her arms, gently pushing her away with one hand as the other went to your chest like you were clutching your pearls.

"My ass kicked? Oh, it is so on, Ripley." You taunted, inches from her face with a daring grin.

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

Once you had paid for your game and gotten your clubs and balls, you stood at the practice hole making small talk until the group in front of you had finished and you two were able to actually start playing.

Taking a look around at the other holes, you noticed an eye or two trained on you. You managed to look away without making any eye contact but the feeling of being watched was there.

Finally, the group in front had moved on and you and Rhea were able to start.

"Ladies first," She swung out her arm, showcasing you to the fake grass. You smiled at her and gave a mock bow as you walked up to the plate. You set the ball down, taking care as to where exactly you wanted it placed.

You made your calculations, pulled back, and swung hitting the ball just a tad too hard sending it flying down to the other side. You watched it bounce off the brick wall, rolling until it stopped about a foot away from the hole.

You groaned jokingly in annoyance as you stepped out of the way to make room for Rhea.

She made a show of walking up to what was essentially the pitcher, shaking out her legs and arms the same way she does before a match, getting ready for her first swing.

She pulled back, and she hit the ball. Unlike yours, hers wasn't hit hard enough and stopped about a foot away from the hole on the opposite side of where yours ended up.

Disappointedly, she shuffled her feet down to where her ball had landed as you laughed, making your way to where your own ball had landed.

"Shut up," She groaned, then motioned for you to go first.

You made it in two.

Rhea, however, made it in four.

Halfway through the game, you were almost tied, you were one point ahead. It was agreed that the overall loser would have to pay for the ice cream, and you did not want to pay.

You managed to not think about what you were wearing once so far, even though you had caught those same eyes from before on you once or twice more. That is until a large gust of wind came through and goosebumps danced along your skin. You could feel your nipples harden slightly but thought nothing of it until you caught another pair of wandering eyes on you, your shirt too tight to not see anything.

You lowered your eyes, embarrassment and anxiety clouding your mind and you went silent while Rhea excitedly told you about something or other. You wish you had brought your damn jacket. That way, you wouldn't be cold anymore or, super self-conscious.

It was while waiting for the next group to finish in front of you that Rhea noticed something was up. 

"You've been quiet, babe. What's wrong?"

You tried to just brush it off, it wasn't serious, it was just you overthinking things again, like usual.

"Nothing, babe. I'm all good."

Rhea persisted, "No, I can tell when you're all good, and you're not. What's wrong, did something happen?"

Wanting the conversation to just be over at this point, you caved. "I'm just a little cold and uncomfortable in my new shirt, nothing to worry about."

Rhea frowned at this, taking obvious offense that this was "nothing to worry about" because you bet your ass she was going to worry about it.

Wordlessly, she shrugged off her own jacket and began swinging it around to lay it on your shoulders.

You stepped back, "No, no, no, Rhe. It's fine, keep your jacket. I'll get over it once the wind dies down."

At that very moment, the wind picked up even bigger than before, making Rhea's hair fly around your faces as your goosebumps increased tenfold.

She gave you that look like, "told you so" before continuing to put her jacket on you.

You blushed like it was the first date all over again as you slid your arms into the sleeves.

Rhea had a shit-eating grin on her face, looking super proud of herself as she looked you up and down wearing her jacket.

"You look good wearing my clothes. Should do that more often." She leaned forward and kissed your cheek before swaggering away to play the next hole, leaving you there a blushing mess.

Rhea wound up winning, but, being the best girlfriend ever she paid for your ice cream anyway. And, she let you keep the jacket. Just in case.

[mikkomacko]

Jersey Leeds: Little Dev

Previous

Summary: Part of the Jersey Leeds storyline; reader takes baby Jersey to her dads first game of the new season

Warnings: none

~

“Neeks you don’t have to do that.”

He doesn’t even give you a second glance as he continues to twist the Allen wrench, shaking his head softly. His hair hangs over his forehead, concealing most of his gaze but under the tips of the dark strands you can see his dimples sink into his cheeks.

“Been sitting over here too long,” he calls back “need to get it out of the way. And tire myself out for my nap.”

Accepting his answer, you turn back to the counter to finish Nico’s pregame snack. The new house in Jersey was slowly coming together, slower than either of you expected but life’s sort of been like that lately. The playoff birth of Jersey and then the team’s quick exit in Carolina, followed by a flight to Switzerland with a newborn was hectic. You made it work though, at least while Nico was competing at worlds but both of you were almost thankful for the loss.

Being parents was hard. Being parents while moving, hockey-ing, and not sleeping was even harder. Luckily the summer calmed down and Nico had more time with you and Jersey, showing her around Bern and introducing her to her Swiss family. He had a lot of things to be proud of that month, but none of it sparkled in his eyes like sharing his life with his daughter did.

You think of that look on his face as Jersey begins to fuss from her play mat, the borderline cries already making your temple throb. Plating Nico’s two peanut butter and banana sandwiches, you dust your hands off on your pants before moving into the living room.

Nico is still sitting on the living room floor, legs splayed out in front of him as he attaches the final leg to the new coffee table, but his eyes are watching Jersey intently. Her little arms and legs wiggle, kicking and reaching upwards as she softly cries.

“I could’ve got her babe,” Nico says as you walk over, his fingers wrapping around the leg he just attached and wiggling it. “She’s just right there.”

Satisfied with his work, Nico flips the table over so it’s standing over his lap. Jersey is still fussing, angry little hiccups as she waves her fists in the air and you can’t help but laugh quietly as you bend down to scoop her up.

“It’s ok,” you reply, dabbing the sleeves of your sweater over her wet cheeks. Big brown eyes peer up at you, framed by the same impossibly thick, dark eyelashes Nico has. “I was done anyway.”

Testing his handiwork again, Nico presses his palms into the top of the table and lays all his weight on it as he gets up. You hold your breath, waiting for the screws and legs to give out and your husband to go tumbling to the living room floor.

But the table is solid and sturdy. Nico smirks proudly, rapping his knuckles on the wood before turning to you. “1 down,” he sighs “a lot more to go.” You shake your head as he eyes the rest of the boxed furniture scattered around the room.

“Do it later, you need to eat.”

Nico’s hands find your hips, holding you gently as he buts his head into yours to look down at his daughter. “Let me see my baby.” He requests instead, and the sound of his voice has Jersey kicking her legs in excitement. Her tiny mouth stretches into a toothless smile, pink tongue flopping out against her chin.

Laughing, Nico sticks his tongue out just the same, right hand coming up to tickle at her cheeks. You give them their moment, your heart warming at the weird but affectionate encounter. You’re unsure of how it came about, how Jersey picked up the habit but one day you had come home from a girls day with Nico’s family to find them sticking their tongues out at each other for entertainment. It’s since become their thing and Nico will take any chance he can get to see Jersey do it.

Nico pecks a kiss to her forehead before straightening out, pressing a similar kiss to your forehead as well.

“All right, snack time for my babies.” You instruct, pressing your palm into Nico’s stomach to nudge him towards the kitchen. He follows compliantly, moving into the kitchen and digging through the cabinets for something. You fetch a bottle out of the fridge, popping it into the warmer as Nico finds the container of honey he was looking for.

Smiling, he holds it out towards you.

“What?” You laugh, adjusting Jersey on your hip.

His voice drips with sweetness when he asks, “Will you put it on my sandwich for me?” It’s an odd request considering your currently holding a baby and attempting to get her meal ready but Nico’s already reaching out for his daughter with his free hand so you obediently switch him.

“You’re being weird,” you comment, popping open the container as you peer up at your husband through your lashes. He’s mumbling sweet nothings under his breath, nose pressed into Jersey’s temple because he likes the smell of her baby wash.

If your words bothered him, it doesn’t show. “I like the way you do it.” He explains simply, turning to grab Jersey’s now warm bottle. Going back to work on his snack, you drizzle honey across the banana slices before putting them back together and quickly slicing each sandwich into two. Nico fishes out Jersey's bottle, not sparing you a glance as he plops down at the dining room table. Plate in hand, you watch him settle Jersey into the crook of his arm, her little body so small against his bicep and forearm.

He coaxes the nipple of the bottle into her mouth, waiting a moment for her to latch before shooting you an expectant look, eyebrow raised and unimpressed.

"My bad," you laugh, "I didn't realize I had two babies to feed."

Settling into the chair next to him, you set his plate in front of him. Which was apparently not the right thing to do because Nico sighs, still eyeballing you incredulously. You roll your eyes, annoyed but so utterly in love with the man in front of you that you can't help but smile as you pick up a half of a sandwich, lifting it to his awaiting mouth.

It makes you laugh, him munching on the snack with honey smeared on his lips, bobbing his head to entertain Jersey while she eats. She watches him with curious eyes, blinking sluggishly. By the time you've finished feeding Nico, she's finished most of her bottle and is sinking further into Nico's arm as sleep pulls her under. He slip the bottle from her, and you take that and the empty plate to the sink while Nico props her up on his shoulder to be burped.

"All right," you sigh after cleaning everything up, "nap time for you two." Nico smiles lazily as you lead him and Jersey down the hall with a tender hand on his lower back. Jersey has already begun to drool into his chest, and he's careful to lay her in the middle of your king size mattress.

You stay long enough to watch him crawl into bed and take the time to tuck him in under a throw blanket, pressing a kiss to his forehead. He attempts to lift Jersey onto his chest, wincing when she wakes up with an annoyed screech, but she's soon settling into the softness of his abdomen. Nico coaxes another kiss out of you, sleepy eyes all soft and warm as you leave him and Jersey to nap while you get everything together for dinner later tonight.

~~~~~

The Rock makes you emotional, not only because the last time you stepped foot in the arena you welcomed your baby girl into the world, but because of how much this night means to Nico.

Impatiently waiting for warm-ups to start, you adjust the crocheted ice skate slippers on Jersey’s feet, making sure her ankles are covered. Then you tug down the sleeves of her little jersey, smoothing a finger over the tiny C patch Nico had custom made for it. The sweater had been a gift from the organization, handed to Nico in a little bag before there first game of round two last season. He almost blubbered over the thing when he presented it to you at home, choking back tears as he babbled about the name daddy on it and his number and how it was just like that baby shirt he loves but better.

Knowing how much he loved the jersey, you’d elected to save it for her first game in person. One where he could actually see her in it. You can’t wait to see the look on his face when he sees you at the glass.

Jersey wiggles away when you adjust the headphones over her ears, making sure they’re not on too tightly but aren’t slipping off. You’d spent all summer working on them for her, acquiring cute little stickers to put her name on one side and a 13 on the other. But the real kicker had been getting the two little devil horns on top. It took a lot of different emails and calls, even some instagram messaging to find someone who could make them. And even though Nico laughed and teased you about it, you were glad with the outcome.

Jersey looked adorable and passionate, all things the captain’s daughter should be.

She’s kicking her feet at you in annoyance when the first horn goes off and the players start trickling onto the ice. Almost leaping out of your skin, you press up close to the glass, turning Jersey so her back is to your chest and she can look onto the ice.

Almost immediately her little legs start wiggling, big brown eyes watching red jerseys fly by and you laugh, believing that she’s trying to skate with them in her mind.

You know Nico has his warm up routine so you’re not expecting him to bang on the glass as soon as he does. Not that you need the little taps of his stick to know he’s there. Jersey recognizes him immediately, her hands reaching out as she coos excitedly.

Looking up from Jersey’s smiling face, you’re stunned by the look of utter joy on Nico’s face. His eyes crinkled, smile so wide you think it might fall off the sides of his face if it weren’t for dimples keeping it in place. He’s waving at Jersey, hitting his gloved knuckles to the glass.

You nudge Jersey closer, allowing her to press her own hands into Nico’s as she screeches excitedly. Out of the corner of your eye a phone slips into view, capturing the precious moment for you two. You make a mental note to ask the social media admin for the video later, turning a bit so the camera has a better view.

Nico looks up at you, that beautiful smile of his shining. “That’s my baby,” he shouts excitedly, voice muffled by the glass but loud enough to make you laugh. You nod in agreement, picking up Jersey’s arm so you can help her wave to him.

His gaze returns to her, waving once more before he sticks his tongue out. Like routine, Jersey does it back, giggling and bouncing in your arms at her daddy. You can hear him laugh, the sound so full of delight it makes your whole body flush with love.

They’re interaction draws in Jack and Bratter, both boys squishing Nico between them as they stop to say hi. You can’t make out what they’re saying to each other as they wave and tap at Jersey but Bratt motions to Jersey’s headphones before shooting you a thumbs up. You laugh, shrugging in thanks before he’s off to finish warm-ups. Dougie takes his place, shoving Jack back so he can lightly jump into the glass.

Jersey jumps in shock, staring at the large man in stunned silence for just a moment. You since, waiting for her to burst into tears and you can already see Nico about to scold his teammate. But then Jersey is laughing gleefully, those bubbly baby giggles making everyone breathe out a sigh of relief.

You linger a little longer, letting all the boys stop by the stay hi and admire they’re little captain. They’re all enamored with her, eyes going soft just as they did the moment they all met her in the hospital. She has always had this team in the palm of her hand, most of all her daddy who has spent all of warm-ups watching her. He chats with whoever filters in to see her, blushing and smiling when they tap him on the helmet with their sticks.

The time comes to head to your seats, even if Nico is trying to get you to stay by making faces and wiggling his fingers through the glass. You know he’ll never actually warm-up if you don’t leave first so you give him your best demanding wife look.

“Say bye to daddy,” you tell Jersey, making her wave one more time. Then you’re tucking her into your chest and holding your knuckles to the glass. Nico does the same, winking at you just once before he slowly skates backwards.

You blow him a kiss, laughing when he pretends to catch it and place it over his heart. Finally he joins the team to get some practice shots in, you moving away from the glass where you can still see him but not be a distraction.

For just a moment you admire him, let yourself adore him for all he is. A good person, a talented player, a strong leader, a brave role model, a loving husband, and the best father a child could ever have.

Jersey’s cry of annoyance drags you back into the moment, peering down to see her mouthing at your shoulder as tears well in her eyes. Her father's eyes.

"I know baby," you murmur, "let's go feed you. We'll see daddy again in a bit." You head back through the tunnel towards the family room so you can pick up the baby bag.

"He's gonna win you a game tonight." You promise Jersey, "and if he doesn't, he'll definitely play his heart out for you."

If there's one thing you could be certain about, it's that Nico will always give his all for his babygirl.

[flemingsfreckles]

Under the Weather

Synopsis: you wake up feeling sick, your girlfriend tries her best to make you comfortable.

Warnings: nothing, it’s fluffy

WC: 2.8k

A/N: I wrote this a few weeks ago when I was sick and then completely forgot it existed

You woke up and immediately had a desire to be back asleep. Rolling over you feel every bone in your body ache, you ankles, your knees, your hips, your back, your arms, your neck, all feeling stiff. You had gone to the gym with Jessie yesterday, maybe you were just sore. You also notice you’re sweating. But it was summer weather now, maybe you should be sleeping with less blankets. When you finally rolled over you looked at the clock only to be furious when it read 3:44AM. It was Saturday, you were supposed to be sleeping in. Instead you were awake, sweating, with your body aching.

You roll over and find Jessie to be sleeping facing away from you on her side. You cuddle up behind her bringing your chest to her back and slinging your arm across her middle. You place a kiss to her shoulder blade before resting your head back down and trying to rest. Sleep does not come as easily as you’d hope.

You lay there, cuddled up to Jessie for a bit before you’re sweating again and you have to move away from her body heat. You flop yourself over to the other side of the bed. It’s no use, you toss and turn and stare at the ceiling for way too long before you crawl out of bed.

You move as quietly as possible around the bedroom, trying not to wake Jessie as you fumbled for the bathroom door. You walked in, found your towel by smacking around on the wall, and then blindly walked out of the bathroom and bedroom. You moved across the house to the guest bathroom. You run the shower and strip down before stepping into the stream of hot water.

The warm water feels good, relaxing but the longer you stand there, the more tired you begin to feel. You’re not sleepy, more so exhausted, like it’s a chore to stand under the warm water. You sit down on the shower floor, your knees feeling weak. It maybe wasn’t the most sanitary idea according to most people but you and Jessie cleaned it regularly and you trusted that it was clean enough. You also decided it was better than falling.

You sit under the water, the heat no longer feeling as relaxing as you start shivering. You feel too tired to get up, so you don’t. You sit there, letting time pass as the water cascades down your head and body.

Its maybe be 15 minutes or closer to two hours when the door swings open and Jessie comes to the door.

“Hey, are you okay?” She says after knocking. She calls your name twice and you want to respond but that requires so much energy. She’s not able to hear the grunt you make over the sound of the rushing water.

The door flips open once she gets no response from you. The look of worry on her face grows into one of panic when she sees you sitting on the shower floor.

“Hey, what’s going on?” She opens the shower door, shutting off the water. You slowly lift your head to look at her. She gently cups your cheeks in her palms. “Are you okay?”

“I don’t feel good.” Is all you’re able to get out before tears come trailing from your eyes.

“Oh babe.” You see a frown grow on Jessie’s face. “Here let’s get you out of the shower.” You take both of her hands and she gently helps you up. She grabs onto your waist with one hand once you’re standing and with the other she reaches and grabs your towel. She holds it out and lets you walk into it, she wraps you up in it.

“Shhh, I know you don’t feel good babe, I’m so sorry.” Jessie wipes the tears that are still coming down your cheeks. You’re not sure exactly why you’re crying other than the feeling of exhaustion, and just overall discomfort.

She then gently pulls your head toward her, placing her lips against your forehead. She holds them there before pulling back and placing the back of her hand to your forehead. “You’re burning. Let’s go get you dressed and we’ll figure out what you need, okay?”

You’re able to give her a weak nod before she grabs around your waist and walks with you to the bedroom. She walks you to the bed, helping you sit before she walks over to the dresser. “Do you want clothes? Or are you feeling too hot?”

“Cold.”

“Okay babe.” She digs out a pair of sweatpants, underwear, a pair of socks, one of her shirts and your favorite of her Canada hoodies.

“Alright, give me your feet.” She gently slides the socks on before she holds open your underwear for you to step into and she grabs the waistband of the sweats and bends down repeating the process and sliding them up your thighs. “Arms up.” She puts her shirt over your head and for a moment you feel better being surrounded by the smell of her. “Do you want this?” She holds out the sweatshirt to you. You didn’t want to wear it, you just wanted to hold it, so you hold your hands out to her and she gives it over.

“Bed or couch?”

“Couch.”

“Okay stay here, I’ll come get you when it’s ready.” Jessie would always make up the couch in your living room to be a comfortable place when you were sick. It was close to the bathroom, close to the kitchen, close to the TV. You preferred it for spending all day laying around.

“Alright, let’s go.” She comes back and holds her hands again, helping you to the couch. She had put a sheet over it, filled it with pillows, and a stack of blankets off to the side. The stuffed moose she had gotten you when she went off to the 2020 Olympics and you weren’t able to tag along to watch her was sitting in the middle. A box of tissues, a water bottle, juice, crackers, all sat on the small tray table you owned.

You sat down on the couch and immediately Jessie was handing you water and some medicine. “Take this.” You do as she says and she follows up the meds holding out a thermometer to you. “Open.” She puts it under your tongue and while you both wait she tucks you into the couch, lying a blanket across your body. When the thermometer beeps she takes it from you and looks at it with a frown. “You have a little fever.”

“Do you want food? Juice? What can I do?” Jessie says standing still by your side. You look up at her and your eyes catch the clock on the wall behind her reading that it’s only 5:25 in the morning.

“You should go back to sleep. You have a game today, you need rest.”

“I’ll be fine, I’m here to take care of you.” She waves you off as she keeps bringing over drinks and snacks to the table.

“No please, go to sleep, but away from me honey.” You plead at her with your eyes, you didn’t want to be the reason she was tired at her game, you couldn’t be the reason she was off her game.

“No.”

“Jess please, go to sleep.”

“Fine.” She then plops down next to you on the couch.

You start pushing her and she begins to lay down beside you. “No, Jessie baby, not here, you’ll get sick and miss your game!”

“No, I won’t. I won’t get sick and even if I did, I wouldn’t feel sick until tomorrow.”

“Baby.” You give her one finally, poor attempt to push her back toward your bedroom. The fatigue starts to take over and you don’t have the energy to argue with her or push her away.

“You sleep better with me lying beside you anyway, you need the rest.” Jessie says as she wraps her arm over your waist. She nuzzles her face into your back. Her warmth and the tight hold she has on you is nice

You’re able to sleep for a bit and wake up to noises in the kitchen. You sit up too fast, feeling lightheaded and you have to lay back down.

“You okay over there?” Your girlfriend’s voice comes from in the kitchen. You sit up slower this time and look over to her.

She’s got an apron on, cutting and dicing away at something on the countertop. She moves to the stove to do something before coming back to chopping. When she notices you looking at her she smiles and sets down the knife making her way toward you. She wipes her hands on her apron and cups your face on her hands, bringing her lips to your forehead again.

“You feel a little better, still warm. How do you feel, pretty girl?” Jessie always called you pretty or beautiful or any similar compliment but she made sure she did it when she knew you weren’t feeling like yourself or just feeling unwell in general.

“Still not good, my head is pounding.” You watch as Jessie turns to check the clock on the wall before grabbing a bottle of medicine.

“Okay babe, in an hour you can have another.” She hands you the bottle. “I’m making soup, you don’t have to eat it if you don’t feel up for it, I can make you something else.”

Normally you’d hate the idea of soup on a hot summer day, but being sick made you want soup not to mention your jessies incredible cooking skills made you want to eat anything she made. “Soup will be good.”

“I can get food on the way home from my game if you want, if not I’ll make you something before I go.”

“Ohh.” Your bottom lip jets out in a pout. You knew Jessie had a game, just being sick had made it slip from your mind.

“What do you need me to stay with you? I don’t know the policy with that, I can call,” Jessie immediately grabs her phone.

“No, you should go, I just wanted to come watch.”

“I know baby but you’re sick. You can stay home and rest.” She places a kiss to the top of your head before she heads back into the kitchen.

You don’t know when you fall asleep but next thing you know you’re being woken up by Jessie gently rubbing your arm and whispering to you.

You stir and open your eyes to Jessie looking at you. “Hi sleepy girl.”

You just grunt at her, still feeling exhausted, body still aching. “I’ve got to go soon,” you sit up slightly to see the clock she had to be at the field in about an hour. “I wanted to check on you before I go. Do you want anything to eat?”

“Soup, please.” Jessie stands up from the squat she was in and rushes to the kitchen, a few minutes later she’s putting down a warm bowl of soup in front of you. “Thank you.”

Jessie sits down next to you as you eat, she has you take some more medicine, she also refills your Gatorade and water. Her fingers gently comb through your hair as you eat, the soothing motion almost has you ready to sleep again. When you finish Jessie stands up to clear your bowl and she starts grabbing the dirty tissues you’ve used.

“Jess, no I’ll get those. That’s gross.”

She shakes her head at you. “Not gross, it’s a little snot, I’ll be fine, we’re dating don’t forget, I’ve touched plenty of your bodily fluids over the past few years, spit, blood, other things.” she raises an eyebrow suggestively at you. You just fall back into the pillows resting again. When Jessie comes back over she checks her watch and then bends down to talk to you.

“I have to go now, okay? If you need something, call Stacy or Lauren alright?” Jessie had already taken it upon herself to text your two neighborhood friends, letting them know that you were sick but that she had to leave you tonight, they both graciously agreed they’d come help you if you needed anything.

“I love you.”

“I love you, I’ll come see you when I’m back, try and get some rest.” You nod into Jessie’s hand and she places a kiss to the top of your head. “Take another dose in three hours.” She points at the medicine sitting on the table. “I love you.”

Knowing you’d likely fall back asleep you set an alarm on your phone for 15 minute before Jessie’s game started. You feel like you blink and suddenly you’re being woken up by that alarm. You sit up and stretch, you felt better than you did this morning but still under the weather. You kick off the blanket, suddenly too hot and you see the shirt you’re wearing.

That’s when it dawns on you, Jessie is playing and you’re not wearing her jersey. With the exception of when you first started seeing her, not a game went by when you weren’t wearing her last name across your back. You’d worn Chelsea jerseys, Canada jerseys, now you wore a Thorns jersey. She played in just a few minutes and here you were in a UCLA shirt. You struggle to push yourself off of the couch, the mix of fatigue and body aches telling you to sit back down, but you need to go get her jersey.

You dig the jersey out from the drawer, take off the UCLA shirt and slide it over your head. You loved getting to wear her jersey, having her last name, which would hopefully become yours one day, across your back.

You’re able to stay awake for the first half. You watch Portland take the lead 2-0 with an assist from your girlfriend which nearly had you jumping off the couch despite the state you were in. You wish you could’ve been there to see it in person. When the halftime commentary begins you shut your eyes for what was supposed to be just a minute. It ends up being a couple hours.

When Jessie walks in the door she notices the tv is still on in the living room, however you hadn’t texted her anything since you sent her a text saying you were proud of her assist. As she expected when she comes around the corner she sees you asleep on the couch. You're lying, sprawled across the couch, your face nuzzled between the moose and a pillow. Jessie shakes her head slightly when she sees you’ve changed into her jersey. It was a tradition you refused to let go, even when you were sick.

She puts down her bag and makes her way over to you. Turning off the TV before she sits, Jessie puts herself next to you bringing her hand to your back. She didn’t want to wake you necessarily but she wanted to check to see how you were doing.

You wake up to the feeling of a hand on your back, gently rubbing before the hand begins to run gently through your hair. You groan, coughing twice before opening your eyes to see the room was now dark, the TV shut off and Jessie was sitting beside you.

She looks down at your stirring “hi sleepy.”

“Hi. Is the game over?”

Jessie laughs a little bit. “Yeah babe it’s over, that’s why I’m home.” You blink a few times as your eyes adjust to the darkness, her hair is still wet from her post game shower and she’s wearing a hoodie and sweats.

“I tried to watch it, I saw your assist.” You suddenly felt very guilty for not watching the second half of the game. “I fell asleep, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, you’re sick, you need all the rest you can get. Do you want to sleep here tonight or in bed?”

“I’ll stay here, you take the bed.”

“No I’m sleeping where you do, so bed or couch?”

You look around, the couch had been comfortable today, you were so nicely snuggled in, you didn’t want to get up. “Couch.”

“Okay baby give me a couple minutes I’ll be right out.” Jessie heads into your bedroom and a few minutes later she emerges in a loose pair of boxers and a shirt

“How are you feeling baby?” Jessie says when she climbs onto the couch next to you.

“Okay.” You nestle into her arms ready to fall asleep again. “A lot better now that you’re here.”

[repulsiveliquidation]

Needed to write about something other than literature from 200 years ago so here’s a little bottom Alexia attempt while I take a break.

“Joder!”

Your hips sped up, hands grabbing Alexia’s to hold behind her back. She flops forward onto the bed, face contorted in pleasure as you fuck into her from behind. She bites the sheets, knees sliding open wider as the silk beneath her loses grip.

“Look at you, speared so beautifully on my cock. Wish I could burn it into my head baby.” You tease, arching her back more as you grip her hands behind her back tighter. She groans loudly, trying to look back at you. You catch her eye and smirk, grinding into her slowly. You pull out and flip her over roughly, kneeling between her legs that immediately drape over your thighs. You push back in slowly, watching her pussy swallow your cock so easily. You bite your lip and rub her wet folds gently, her body responding with shudders of pleasure.

She pulls her legs open on her own, panting hard as your hips begin to set a rough pace again. Her mouth only says one word, swollen lips chanting your name over and over as your cock grazes her sweet spot better in this position. Your eyes never leave where you’re connected, memorizing how it looks so you never forget and can watch it on repeat in your own time.

You reach over and grab your phone anyway, opening the camera app to film yourselves fucking. She blushes hard when the camera points at her core, hands letting go of her legs as they go back over your thighs, and hiding her face in them. She whines high, legs trembling as the filming turns her on even more.

She gets wetter than she already is, the sounds of your love making echoing through the room and were clearly captured on camera. You throw your phone to the side, pulling her legs closer and slamming yourself into her at a hard pace. You lean into her and pound her into the mattress, her arms wrapping around your shoulders as she moans lewdly into your ear. It spurs you on, your own orgasm catching up to hers.

“You gonna cum on my cock, hermosa?”

She nods frantically, bottom lip stuck between her teeth. Your thumb pulls it clear, kissing her searingly as your hips never falter. You feel her resistance as she clenched around the thick cock, pressing her legs impossibly wide to get her to cum. Your face tucks into her neck, whispering only for her to hear.

“Cum.”

She gasps and cums hard, body lurching off the bed as she reaches her high. You lean back and keep fucking her, chasing your own high. You cum seconds later, gripping her thighs to grind into her. She grabs your face and kisses you hard, panting on your lips.

“I love you,” she says breathlessly, a shy smirk on her face.

“I love you too, amor,” you tell her, kissing her forehead softly.

[piratefishmama]

Fake it ‘Till you make it | Part 15

If asked to describe how warm the Harrington house made him feel, Eddie would probably describe it as dipping his backside in an ice bath, balls, and all.

The Harrington Chalet… was like being wrapped up in a warm blanket on the comfiest of sofas, in front of a cosy fire, with a mug of just right hot cocoa placed in your hands, snuggled up against a broad chest, the kind of warmth that only comes from true comfort, a warmth that only comes from belonging.

It was all natural colours, warm browns lit by warm white lamplight. Where the Harrington house had white walls and dark tiled floors without a speck of dust to be seen, the chalet had natural wooden walls, and beautiful dark oak wood flooring, thick wooden beams running across the ceiling.

The only modern thing about it being the floor to ceiling windows that took up the far wall of the living room, which looked out towards the lake not far away. Every material used to build it aside from the glass windows, looked like it was sourced directly from its surroundings, like whatever they’d felled to make room for the chalet, was put into building it.

Eddie wanted to stay there.

He’d only set one foot into the main living room after lugging those bags from the car, bags now at his feet, guitar propped up against the wall, he’d only stopped a moment to take it all in, and decided there and then that this… this was where he wanted to be. It couldn’t be further from the place he’d grown up, yet he longed for it all the same.

And then he felt hands, flattened, sliding around his waist from his hip upwards beneath his shirt to settle atop his stomach, another around the other side, higher from his chest upwards across collar bone and lingering there, a hot breath on the other side of his neck, the warm, broad expanse of Steve Harrington’s chest against his back and his lips just lightly brushed against the side of his neck. If Steve wasn’t currently holding him up he might actually have crumpled.

How did people exist around Steve Harrington and not just spontaneously combust?

He felt aflame, Steve wrapped around him, holding him steady, thrown directly into the deep end even though he’d had hours upon hours to prepare himself for it, how did someone prepare to suddenly be at the very centre of Steve Harrington’s attention at the top of his game? Especially when that someone had never really experienced any game directed at them.

“Keep it in your pants Steven we haven’t even unpacked.” And there went all that tension, built with actions alone, gone with an exasperated comment from Steve’s mother as she shoved one of the heavier of her bags forwards with her foot.

“I cannot be held responsible for my actions when my boyfriend looks this beautiful.” Oh. He was expecting something juvenile, not something that was going to make his heart do a funny little flip flop. He’d never been called beautiful before.

He’d heard a few similar things in bars, but those things were always backed by lewd intent, genuinely having heard ‘you got a pretty mouth, boy’ on one such excursion. Never beautiful. Never something that gave him butterflies. Made him feel special.

“Yes, he’s very pretty, now let him go and go help your father with his bags. Eddie would you be a dear and help me with mine? This one is a little heavy.” He didn’t want Steve to let go, honestly he felt like his legs might actually give out if Steve let go so in the interest of his own balance, he just latched himself onto Steve’s arms to prevent him from letting go.

“Uhhhh… can we just, leave them in here for a bit while we uh… pick rooms? Because uhm… I don’t have a good excuse.” Steve snorted a laugh so close to his ear it actually made him laugh a little himself, he even got a nice little squeeze from Steve’s arms which felt lovely. “But I’d just really like if Steve didn’t move.”

Lynda just looked at them both with that knowing smile of hers, a single perfectly arched eyebrow raised in sly amusement. “Very well, the heavy ones stay here. Steven remember we will want to use the hot tub so do not pick that room.” And she was off after her husband, leaving the two heavier of her bags in the entryway to be moved later.

Eddie turned his head to look at Steve with a small curious frown in silent question “There’s a room on the first floor, it’s technically the guest master bedroom, it has a patio door that leads to the hot tub on the wrap around. Like directly to it, if we pick that room there’s a strong chance of us witnessing terrible horrible things. Nobody ever picks that room.” It was great if you were alone in the house, or if it was just you and a special someone, then you could pick it, but… other company would ultimately either see your business, or you’d see theirs.

Not a fun time.

“Sounds like you’ve had a terrible experience.”

“I repeat, terrible, horrible things. C’mon Bambi, let’s get settled in.”

“Where’d that come from?” He asked, just before Steve could let go, sure Steve’s arms relaxed a little in their grip, allowing Eddie to move a little, test his balance to find it was actually fine, that his legs hadn’t mysteriously transmuted into jello, he didn’t pull away through, instead he turned in Steve’s arms, just to look at him “The Bambi thing, where’d that come from?” It was the third time Steve had called him that, the first on the plane, second in the car… and now—

“Your eyes, man… those big beautiful brown eyes of yours, you’ve got eyes like Bambi. Has no-one ever… called you that before?” Steve stepped backwards, he removed his arms, instead placing his hands on Eddie’s arms, just holding him, looking at him, seeing him.

“Uh…no no, most I get is freak, fag, or… that I have a nice mouth?” Eddie didn’t expect the pained expression on his faux boyfriends face, no matter how brief it was. “It’s okay, like… you expect the insults I guess… we live in a small-minded shithole, and I never deny the rumours so it’s not like it’s not expected. And the places where it’s okay for us to be, well… they kind of expect a certain level of experience or they expect you to want them too when you go there an well…” Eddie didn’t have that experience.

An he didn’t feel very comfortable leaving it up to a total stranger to guide him through gaining experience. Especially with how dangerous that was right now.

Besides the danger though, what if it sucked? He didn’t want it to suck, why did that have to be the be all and end all of first queer sexual experiences? Why couldn’t it be good? Why couldn’t he have his toes sufficiently curled?

“I wish I knew what to say to make it okay...” Robin would know what to say. Steve had barely dipped his toes into what he enjoyed, into who he was beneath the performative nonsense of his past.

Steve was just… Steve, and Steve rarely really knew what to say.

“Don’t worry about it big boy, you calling me beautiful just made my year, I will treasure it always, it will feed my ego for years to come so you don’t have to say anything else. Now let’s go pick a room” Just to make sure Steve knew it was okay, Eddie leaned forward and planted a kiss atop those two cute moles on Steve’s cheek, grabbed his guitar case, then offered his other hand. “Wanna show me around?”

“Yeah…” Steve breathed, an almost dopey smile on his face as he took Eddie’s hand “yeah okay, let’s do that, rooms are this way, but first, uhm... Bambi's okay right?”

"Yeah, Stevie... Bambi's okay."

Part 17

[sandwitchstories]

Five Seconds

Annnnnnd I'm back with more Kyojuro Rengoku smut!

I realized recently that I do not see a lot of representation in fan fiction (and fiction in general) for AFAB people who need lube for sex to be enjoyable, including in my own writing. So, I decided I needed to fix that and this was the perfect story. Be part of the change you wish to see, right?

If you prefer to read it on AO3 please click here !

Summary: Y/N and her boyfriend, Kyojuro Rengoku, return home after having had a disagreement. While not yet ready to wave her white flag, Y/N knows she needs to do something to defuse the situation. She goes with the first thought that pops into her head and while unconventional, it does the trick. Annnnd then some.

WC: 3300+

CW: MDNI, AFAB Reader, AFAB terms used to describe the sexy bits, SMUT, lube, teacher Rengoku, dom/sub undertones, oral (f!receiving), brat taming (kinda?), face sitting, spanking, Vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, rough sex, smut with feels, doggy style, NOT canon, and more. Check on AO3 for a full list

Divider by: @steviebbboi

Y/N grit her teeth as she got out of her boyfriend’s car in the parking space in front of their townhouse. The whole ride home had been tense due her and Kyojuro having had a disagreement. It was very rare for them to argue and honestly, this fight was over a truly trivial matter... 

Honestly, he was not fully wrong. It was a matter of different perspectives. But she was still not ready to raise her white flag out of spite as he was still on one about it. Y/N sighed as she acknowledged to herself that she needed to figure out a way to diffuse the flames of purgatory that had been unleashed.

She tuned out Kyojuro as he picked up his pace to keep up with her after shutting his door more forcefully than was needed, but still not quite slamming it. She unlocked the door, and opened it. Not giving in to the temptation to grab the handle and ‘close’ it behind her. Kyojuro had ridiculously fast reflexes and would catch it with absolutely zero effort. And it probably would not help the situation

She kicked off her flip flops and headed into the house. Kyojuro shut and locked the door behind him before kneeling to untie his shoes. An idea suddenly popped into her mind of how to end this whole thing quickly and put the adrenaline from the disagreement to a better use. She had never tried it before but maybe it would work…

“Kyojuro!” She said his name firmly so he paused mid action, looking up at her with a scowl on his handsome face.

“What?!”

She yanked up her shirt and bra, exposing her breasts to him. He froze solid. She watched his eyes instantly change from anger to desire as his gaze shot down from her face.

He began to hurriedly untie his shoes before giving up and standing up to yank them off. “You have 5 seconds.”

“For what?” Y/N asked, still holding up her shirt.

“A head start.”

Y/N laughed as Kyojuro tried to hurry his shoe removal and it got stuck, making him kinda hop on one foot for a minute before he got it to move. She yanked down her top and took off running to their bedroom, giggling as she heard his heavy steps coming after her. He caught up when she was just through the entryway. She turned towards him only to have her face yanked into a passionate kiss. He bent his knees and lifted her up so she could wrap her legs around his waist, before quickly laying them down on the bed.

His hands moved quickly,  one shoved under her top and bra, squeezing her breast before pinching and pulling on her nipple until she moaned into his mouth, her hips instantly beginning to rock against him. His other hand cupped her face as he deepened the kiss. His hand slid down to her nape, cupping the back of her head.

“Are we okay?” She asked as he broke the kiss when they both needed more oxygen than their noses could offer. She knew they were but some little part of her still needed that reassurance from him. Needed to know he wasn’t going anywhere.

“Always,” he told her. His hand left her breast, shirt and bra still pulled on to her upper chest. He cupped her other cheek, his thumb running across her bottom lip. “We will always be okay. No matter how bad the fight. Because I love you and you love me.”

“I do, I do love you. So much,” she said, hands cupping his face and bringing him down into another scorching kiss, moaning into his mouth as he pressed his hard cock against her center.

He broke the kiss, looking down and thumbing her bottom lip again, watching it spring under his movement. “However! There is the matter of you being a brat that still needs to be addressed. Your incredible breasts indeed did work their magic but there is still a lesson to be learned.”

“Oh yeah?” She asked, smirking up at him and leaning forward to nip his lower lip, pulling on it before letting it go. She moved her head and spoke softly in his ear before she gave a quick suck and nip to his lobe. “What are you gonna do about it?”

“Give you one hell of an attitude adjustment.” He kissed her passionately before abruptly pulling back to help her rid herself of her shirt and bra before capturing her lips in a rough kiss.

Kyojuro's hands grabbed hers, pinning them above her head with one large hand.  His free hand stabilized her breast as he dipped his head to latch on one of her nipples, sucking hard and pulling on it until she cried out loudly. As he alternated breasts, his hands moved to undo her jeans. He released her nipple before sitting back. He gripped onto her jeans. Y/N lifted her hips so he could yank the material down roughly, tossing the clothes behind him. “Fours. Now.”

She did what he directed, moaning the second he covered her body with his. The material of his clothes rubbed against her sensitive bare skin, making her shiver. His hands latched on to her hips with his fingers holding her in a bruising grip as his mouth claimed her neck and shoulders, sucking marks into her flesh as he went. 

He suddenly detached, moving one hand to press her head down gently but firmly to the mattress before he moved to be sitting on his knees behind her. His hands gripped and squeezed the fat of her ass. He spread her cheeks to give himself a better view, his hungry eyes  taking in the view from that sexy arch in her back, the swell of her ass and then focusing fully on her shiny slit, just begging for his cock, clenching around nothing. He licked his lips and moved his hands to be able to spread her pussy open with his thumbs, tracing them up and down her lips in a feather light touch.

He withdrew his hands before he gave her butt cheek a firm slap making her squawk in shock. He did it two more times, listening to the sultry moan she let out while watching the fat of her ass recoil from the contact. He leaned forward and nipped the same tender cheek he had just smacked. 

“Have you learned your lesson?” He asked, grazing the pads of his fingers up and down over her pussy again, just close enough to tease her slit where he knew she was dying to be touched. Boundaries between them had long ago been set, but he still checked in with her to make sure she was good. 

“What lesson? That being a brat will get me the rough treatment? Oh, I sure have, Mr. Rengoku. Lesson learned: be a brat more often!” 

Apparently she wants more… That’s one way to get it… Little shit. His cock throbbed in his pants.

“Don't move.” He took the bait, already having been hooked on the line the second she had flashed her breasts at him. He moved across the bed quickly and grabbed the small bottle of lube from his night stand drawer. 

His woman struggled with maintaining lubrication no matter how turned on and begging for his cock she was. Rather than making her ask for it, he kept it close and kept her cunt nice and lubed up. Pleasure was the only thing he ever wanted her to feel during these moments.

He tossed it on the bed as he stood behind her taking in the sight of her pert ass, and her pretty pink pussy spread open, just waiting for him. He palmed his still covered cock as his eyes hungrily roamed over her body.  

“Head up.” He leaned forward, grabbing onto her hips and yanking her to the edge of the bed before he sat on the floor tilting his head back against the mattress.

Y/N followed his instructions, allowing him to maneuver and position her so that her cunt now hovered right above his face. She had barely gotten her hands in a comfortable position on the bed before he was pulling her down onto his mouth and began feasting on her cunt. 

She cried out in pleasure as he licked her slit from the clit back to swirl around and tease the entrance of her hole, then back again to circle her tender pearl. The flat of his wide tongue felt incredible as he lapped at her folds, making her core flutter and clench on every pass. 

He smirked against her, his tongue traveling that same route several more times. His fingers dug into her hips as he pulled her even closer. This time when his tongue circled her hole he finally thrust it inside. 

He closed his eyes and moaned at the taste of her as he fucked her with his mouth. He thrust his tongue into her hole several times before he lifted her slightly and replaced his tongue with two fingers. He watched his fingers fucking into her hole above his head several times before he moved his mouth to focus on lapping and sucking at her clit.

“Kyojuro!” Y/N cried out his name. 

Her legs began shaking as her orgasm approached. All of her muscles tensed in expectation. The flutters spread throughout her veins. At the very cusp of her crescendo Kyojuro remembered he was supposed to be taming his beloved shrew and pulled away. 

He chuckled at her sound of distress before nipping her inner thigh playfully and moving to stand. He leaned over her, burying his hand in her hair and pulling her head back to kiss her passionately. 

Kyojuro broke the kiss and repositioned her to again be face down and ass up before he stood fully up. He ran his fingers up and down her overly sensitive folds as he dribbled the lube onto her spread cunt. He bit his lip as he watched his fingers working it into her hole and all along her slit thoroughly. He took advantage of the situation and edged her yet again as he got her ready for him. 

“You're so mean!” she glared at him from where her head was still flat to the mattress like she knew he wanted. 

“You brought this on yourself,” he reminded her. “Scoot forward a bit.”

He quickly undressed, grateful to free his cock and balls from their cotton prison.  His cock was so hard it hurt and could no longer be ignored. He knelt on the bed directly behind her and grabbed his cock with his lubed hand. He stroked it several times before he ran the swollen tip up and down her lubed slit, biting his lip and moaning softly at the incredible feeling. 

She wailed in pleasure as he impaled himself in balls deep on the first stroke, as soon as his cock caught on her hole. She instantly began pushing back on him, finally getting part of what she wanted. High thick, hard length felt so good inside of her. She wanted… no needed more…“Oh gods! Yes! So full! ”

“Oh… fuck, Y/N…” He rasped out her name as his eyes fluttered and he groaned at the feeling of finally being inside her tight, hot cunt. 

His fingers held her still and he stayed motionless for a moment, giving her a chance to adjust and him to savor the feeling of her enveloping him. It did not take him long to give in to what he knew they both wanted. He braced a foot on the bed beside her, giving himself an angle to go even deeper inside of her. His hands latched onto those perfect hips in a grip guaranteed to bruise and began fucking into her in earnest. 

She cried out, fingers tangling in the sheets, searching for anything to lock her into place as he pounded into her cunt. It felt so good. All of it. His cock splitting her and stretching her as it dragged in her gummy walls. The thump and sensation of him going as deep as she could take him on every single thrust. She mewled as he filled her over and over again.

“Oh, so now you’ve got nothing to say?” Kyojuro teased, slowing his strokes just a bit so he had more freedom to move. He leaned forward, burying his hands in her hair, like he knew she loved, and pulling her head up in a firm grip. He needed more from her. He wanted to hear her getting drunk on his cock. “Come on, Y/N. Let me hear you.”

He moved a hand under her thigh, two fingers taking up residence on either side of her clit. As he sped up his thrusts again he began to move his fingers on her clit at the same pace. Those long sinful fingers of his pinched, rolled and circled around the over sensitive bead.

Desperate, filthy sounds sprinkled with curses spilled out of her mouth. Her muscles began to tense and her pussy began to tighten on his cock. 

“That’s it! That’s my mouthy girl! Knows exactly what I want…”

He hit that special spot inside her and she cried out. “There, baby, there!”

His hand released her hair, moving to rest on her throat as he pounded into her from behind and his fingers worked her clit so well. He knew just what she liked. She was about to start begging to finish when Kyojuro spoke in a firm but winded tone. “Cum for me, Y/N. Cum on my cock.”

He increased his speed and tightened his hand just slightly over her throat. She called his name as she came, her pussy fluttering and pulsing on his cock, getting slicker and sloppier by the second. The squelching noise of the lube somehow sounded filthier now knowing her cream was mixed in.

The hand on her throat moved under her to bring her more up right so her back was pressed against his front. Her head fell back on to his shoulder as his large hand took up residence splayed between her breasts. He lowered his hips closer to the bed so that now she was basically sitting on his lap. He resumed thrusting, beginning to piston his cock up into her cunt at a harsh speed. 

Y/N shook from over sensitivity that bordered on pain but felt so fucking good. She whined loudly as he kept abusing that spot and kept rubbing her clit. Her nails dug into his thighs where they were braced. Her hips writhed in pleasure on top of him as she kept fucking herself back onto his cock, meeting every thrust, riding him just as hard as he was fucking her even as she whined, their sweat slicked skin sliding easily against each other. “It’s too much!” 

“Give me one more, my flame. I know you can do it,” he said, mouthing her neck and shoulder as he continue to fuck up into her hot tight core. 

His fingers at her clit switched from circles and strokes to a swaying motion. He applied more pressure to her clit as his fingers moved faster back and forth on the bundle of nerves. Her next orgasm came on suddenly, fast and almost violently. She keened loudly in his arms as she was pulled into the vortex. Her hand quickly moved to rest on the forearm of the hand between her legs as she threw her head back farther in ecstacy.

He immediately moved the hand away at her tap out sign, instead curling both of his arms under her to grip onto her breasts. One of her hands came to rest on his nape, holding his face in the crook of her neck. His thrusts slowed to languid movements, drawing out her pleasure as long as he could, letting her ride out her high on his cock. Her movements against him were getting slower, shakier.

“Cum for me, Kyojuro, please. I want you to fill me up.” Her voice was breathy as she turned her head and pulled him into a messy kiss. “I need it.”

“Tell me how you want it,” he said, mouthing her neck right below her ear. He spoke in husky tones. “Tell me how you want me to fuck my cum into you.”

She clenched on his cock at his dirty talk. “I want to see your face.”

“Lay down,” he said, helping her change positions and moving to kneel between her thighs, his cock still painfully hard. 

He coated his cock in lube again before grabbing onto her hips and pulling her closer so she was nestled against his lap. He pressed her thighs back, spreading her open fully and placing his cock between her slick pussy lips, sliding it up and down her sensitive slit. He closed his eyes,  pressed his lips together and groaned.

Y/N moved her hand between them and guided him to her center. She kept her hand there, her fingers spread in a V as she felt him press into her fully. She held his gaze as she kept her hand there as his hands gripped the backs of her thighs and he began to thrust.

“You feel so good,” he told her, leaning down to kiss her.

His hands found hers and he moved them up above her head, locking their fingers together as his thrusts built up speed. Soon he was bracing on his palms with her knees against the bed, hips rolled back as far as they could go and fucking down into her used cunt with abandon.

“Fuck! Gods!” She cried out, her hands moving to his shoulders to drag her nails down his back in pleasure. “You give it to me so good, baby!”

He let out what almost sounded like a whimper at her words, throbbing inside of her silken walls. His thrusts were getting sloppier, falling out of time. “Close, I’m so close!”

“Give it to me, Kyo, you know it’s what I want,” she said, hands moving to frame his face as he thrust against her. She kissed him passionately, before pulling back, still cupping his face. “Cum for me, please. I’m begging for it, Kyo.”

Her words absolutely destroyed him just as she intended. His cock rammed into her harder as he chased his high until he roared out her name, filling her up just like she begged for. He thrust against her, slowing and going until fully spent. 

Kyojuro rested back on his legs, slowly pulling out and watching his cum dribble out of her for a moment before he turned his gaze back to Y/N’s face. She laid against their pillows in a haze of exhaustion that only comes from a good fucking, with a smile on her lips, a sheen of sweat covering her skin. 

He grinned and leaned down over her, bracing on his palms and pressing a few gentle kisses to her lips. “Did you learn your lesson?”

“Yes, but not the lesson you intended,” she said with a laugh, she reached up and pulled loose the tie in his ponytail, running her fingers through his fiery hair as it fell around his face. 

“Oh?” he asked, arching a brow at her. “Then what lesson did you learn?”

“That flashing you in the middle of an argument not only ends the argument but gets me fucked stupid.”

He laughed, kissing her again before plopping down next to her and pulling her into his arms. He kissed the top of her head and smiled at the ceiling in contentment. He couldn't deny that what she said was true. “Well, at least you learned something.”

[in-hav3n]

okay HEAR ME OUT. you're the third blog i send this to because the others didn't repost it and i desperately need people to hear this because i can't stop thinking about it.

i just know that the reason james has always had such hot muscular arms is because he fucks in the air or against the wall.

i'm sure.

(i want him to fuck me like this)

okay, that's it, have a nice day. bye.

PS: in case someone is confused (i doubt it but you never know) my point is that if he fucks someone against the wall or in the air he has to lift her and hold her there for quite some time which means: 💪🏻

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐔𝐓

WARNINGS : NSFW - rough sex - sex scene - age gap

It's an ordinary day in Colorado. You are lazy on your couch, busy reading a random magazine.You are completely bored by the lack of interesting articles until you heard James coming from the backyard door after working on his cars in his garage all the afternoon. He greets you with a smile and a little hand wave on his way to the kitchen. He needs to clean his greasy hands and finally joins you with a glass of water in his hand. Sat at your feet, you would both chatted for a while about your day and stuffs you've done.

"You're pretty sweat", you comment after a while, noticing how shiny his arms are. James had leaned a bit, resting his back against the couch as he was scratching his head pensively. He turned to see your hand on his skin and chuckled.

"It's pretty hot outside and I worked a lot. Had a lot of heavy things to carry in the garage to fix that old car I bought", he explained as flexing a bit his arm.

"Whatever it was...made you do a bit of work out", you giggle, your hands looking very small compares to his arm's size.

He was wearing a black tank top which was a good outfit that shows perfectly how tough James was. You bite your lower lip and start to squeeze his arms, palpating his muscle with your fingers. James giggles too at your remark and flexes his muscles more to show you how impressively muscular they were.

"But that's not going to the gym or carrying heavy stuffs that gave me those arms you know", he declares with a grin, turning his head in your direction, not leaving your gaze. You raise an eyebrow in a curious way.

"Oh really? What is it then?", you tease him as going on your knees to be closer.

"You wanna know, hum?". James' hand on you naked knee to rub your skin slowly is enough to make you shiver hard. You hum and nod frantically, even more curious.

And this is how you end up on his laps, arms around his neck while his hands were on your thighs, lifting up he edge of your dress over your hips. You were sharing a passionate, hungry and feverish kiss as taking each other's clothes off. His tank top first, in a hurry, before you take care his short with shaking hands. He helps you by removing it completely, kicking off his flip flops to get rid of his clothes.

Meanwhile his hands slips the straps of your dress. James moans of satisfaction when he discovers you're not wearing a bra today and expose your breasts to feast on them. You whine of pleasure and roll your hips on his hard member, showing him what you want. He is already hard beneath you and your cunt is already pulsing at the idea of being fucked so unexpectedly on this lazy afternoon in your living room. Even tough it wasn't the first time that such things happened...

"Take off your panties baby", he commands between two kisses, your tongues moving perfectly together for a sensual dance.

You moan in agreement and roll next to him to quickly take if off, throwing it somewhere else on the couch. You also took off your dress in a hurry. Once done, you straddle him again with a giggle of pleasure, rolling your hips again on his hard member. The physical touch between your soft pussy lips and his hard dick soft skin is enough to drive you both crazy.

"So needy...", James whispers with a grin on his face as caressing your butt, even adding a spank. "You want me to fuck you now?"

"Oh yes baby, do it", you reply as biting his earlobe. He groans low like a beast. You are driving him crazy as well with your touch and gestures.

James hurries himself to glide his hands between your two bodies to grab his member, puts him in a straight position to help you sit on it. You slowly sink on, stretching you out until you arrive at the base with a gasp of pleasure.

"Oh yes...", you moan low, almost in a whisper, eyes closed, leaning against his shoulders for support. You are used to this position and James knows you need to take your own pace first to adjust yourself at his size. So he just leans against the couch, hands on your butt to join your ass movements, helping you to get ready.

"That's it baby", he says low as watching you bouncing slowly on his dick, feeling the enjoyable feeling of it inside your warm and wet pussy's walls. "Get yourself ready...move on my cock...so I can show you my trick".

You frown, keeping the rythm, curious to know what he's talking about. His trick? You simply nod and move until you feel it's time.

"I'm ready James", you tell him in a gasp as you move easier on him, your inner walls being now completely stretched out and you pussy being wetter.

And this is how suddenly James grips you tight, holding your body against his as he carefully gets up from the couch. You quickly wrap your arms around his neck for support, tightening your legs against his chest and crossing your ankles behind his back. He holds you tight with his hands under your butt and you feel his dick popping out of you.

"Oh!", you moan of surprise with a giggle. James chuckles with a smile at your reaction and walks slowly. You have no idea where he's going.

"So...what's this trick, big man ?", you tease him with a grin, your fingers lovingly rub his neck and the short hair there.

James smiles bigger and he only answers you when your back hits the wall of your living room. You let out an other low gasp of surprise when your skin hit the cold material.

"I hope you're ready cause I'm gonna pound into you so hard..."

"So hard uh?", you tease again as biting his lower lip in a sexy way, not leaving his gaze.

"So hard you won't be able to walk tomorrow".

You giggle loud at his comment. "Really ?".

James doesn't give you time to tease him more. He manages to free one of his hands to line up again with your entrance, even adding some saliva to help and in one push, he thrusts in you. You gasp of surprise, closing your eyes to enjoy this new sensation. You feel a hint of pain tough, the angle is really different and quite new,

James knows you well and is able to read your expression. He feels your pussy contracting around him and understands you need some time again to adjust. He stops his moves until he sees you nodding to move again. He moves slowly first, holding you tight against him with his two forearms underneath your knees, your back still on the wall to have a balance. He opened a bit his legs to have some kind of balance too and for more strength to push inside you.

"Oh my god James...", you moaned with a low voice, your head resting against the wall behind you for some seconds before resting on his shoulder.

"Does it hurt baby?", James rested his cheek against yours, whispering into your ear.

"Not anymore...feels good", you pant, still not believing how good this is.

He starts to move a bit faster, his hands enveloping you butt to slowly make you bounce on him.

"Oh yes...feels even better...like this". This was like doing some work out, like lifting some weights. And a smile appears on your lips at this thought. This is how James got his big and tough arms then and you absolutely love this.

"Don't stop baby please...", you beg with moans, your nails digging into his shoulder's flesh now. James groans and moans low, his head swinging back as he enjoyed the feeling of your warm walls tightening around his dick.

"You're gonna make me cum if you keep moving like this", just saying this is enough to stretch you even more and his dick finds his way deeper inside you. You gasp again with a loud whine, gripping his neck stronger to not fall. James feels it too and this helps him to pound deeper, pouding your spot with no mercy. It was good, it was hard, it was obscene the way your body were moving but you didn't care.

"OH YES!", you moan louder again, your head leaving his shoulder to hit the wall behind, as you start to pant harder. Luckily no one could hear your desperate and loud whines of pleasure.

"Gonna...cum...baby?", James asks, also panting as he keeps the pace, making you bounce on his cock as well as moving his pelvis to thrust deeper. He was doing a real work out exercice, using all his body to give you such pleasure.

You simply nod, head still against the wall as your teeth bite strongly your lower lip. You are on the edge of cumming hard, harder than you felt before with other positions. This one is just perfect to make you feel new sensations and James perfect moves are just the cherry on the cake.

"Yes...like this...don't stop, oh my god! I'm gonna cum James...I'm gonna!", you pant harder and harder until you let go this good and powerful sensation that was growing inside your inner belly. You are not able to talk anymore, you're only able to mumble some words and high whines or moans while your eyes roll behind.

James grips your knees tighter to keep his strength until the end. He wants you to ride your orgasm and feels your walls contracting and pulsing around his dick. "Cum on my cock baby, that's it! Enjoy it...feel it", he pants, feeding his own excitement with this sight of you reaching your orgasm.

He stops moving only when he feels you relaxing, when the pleasure invade your senses and spread in all your body. You have a satisfied smile on your lips, some sweat drops between your breasts. Some hair are even stick on your forehead. He smiles and pushes your body against his chest to kiss you tenderly. Then he slowly pushes out his swollen dick before helping you to go back on the floor. His lips never leave yours.

"I understand know why you have big arms baby", you tease him after the kiss, biting his lip in a loving gesture. Your hands touch his arms, still impressed by what just happened.

"I told you, I never did work out...but I practice this a lot", he grins and leans again to kiss your tenderly. You giggle during the kiss before your hand wrap around his swollen and hard cock.

"Now let me show you how I work my mouth's muscles", you tease him with a sexy glance as kneeling in front of him, ready to give him the best blowjob of his life...

A/N : Here's a little reminder of how big and sexy James arms are 🤭 I picture your idea really well in my mind sweet anon. I used HTSD era cause this is one of my fav and I love his tough daddy style but it can be with any era you want ! This is how I imagine this...

[lynnlovesthestars]

"I wandered lonely as a cloud"

Pairing: Astarion x gn!Reader (afab for eventual smut) Genre: hurt, comfort. Angst, smut eventually. CW: gore, past trauma, abuse, reference to SA, ptsd, ocd, feeling of inadequacy, fear of rejection, fear of loneliness, anxiety, depression, intrusive thoughts[...] Setting: Act 2. Synopsys: "let's pretend we are not alone"

AN: Hello my stars, I haven't wrote a fanfic in a while, though this is a mix between a fic and a collection of one shots. The story is introspective, as we dwell in the story, our focus will be on two lonely souls that find solace in each other's touch. It will not be an action driven story, but fear not, It wont just be cuddles and kisses! (Though we'll have plenty of that) Anyways i hope you'll enjoy this, and you'll find comfort in it.

I'm also going to open a tag list, in case someone is interested. (if the taglist flops, you didn't see it) I'll link the form here so you can avoid leaving it in the comments if you prefer!

Form.

Playlist.

Masterpost.

Loneliness was a strange feeling, sometimes it sprouted when you least expected it, but it hit you the worst at night. It was a feeling you grew accustomed over time, it coated your days, your food, your eyes. In a way it became your way of knowing you were alive, that deep down that emptiness you felt, something akin to a heart was beating, though lonely.

Everyone could see when loneliness was hitting you the worst, cause in the morning you would be more tired, eyebags would sulk your face and you would be avoidant.

The Last Light Inn was finally in sight as you descended the dark and shadowy path that the group of harpers pointed to. The bright glow of encircling the area was the only sign that could point at your way.

Despite the rough welcome from Jaheira and the harpers, they offered you a few rooms so you could rest while you planned your next moves. Jaheira took it on herself to give you a briefing on all she gathered in the shadowlands, but she could clearly see the dark circles under your eyes, and she knew them very well. The eyebags of a leader that needed rest and a warm soup. Little did she know that whatever you felt inside, it was much more than that. It was the thug you felt in your chest, the yearning for even the smallest touch. The need of closeness, like a body pressed against your skin as you dozed asleep. It was the daydreaming of respite in someone else’s embrace, safe and tucked away, though in that moment you wanted to concentrate more on the situation at hand: looking for the beds, cause for once in the past weeks, you didn’t need to set up camp or gather wood, or even sleep on the floor.

The group was directed towards the hen, where the strange ox from the emerald grove was moo-ing about its food. Jaheira gave you a key that would open a hatch where extra rooms would be tucked away. As you descended down the staircase, a soft light glimmered at the center of the space, where four doors were scattered around the empty communal area. A small kitchen sat on the side, while a fireplace was opposite to it. 

Whoever resided here before the darkness hit this place, was probably the owner of the inn and their family. The space was left clean, the harpers kept it in good conditions as they took over the perimeter of the inn.

You dropped your backpack near a door as you took a glimpse of the rooms: all of them had a poster bed that could easily hold two people and a partition to hide a bathing corner.

You opted to divide the rooms with the support of a coin flip. It was nothing against Lae'zel, but when the coin fell and it assigned you to her, you contemplated if you could have set a tent in the middle of the road. Your brain started churning ideas as the rest of the group was knees deep discussing on the beds.

"Oh don't sulk, Astarion" Gale played with the elf as he shoved his elbow in his hip. "I'm not an awful bedmate" 

"There's no way, I'm sleeping in the same room with you again" Astarion whined as he turned his head the other way. Then it hit you. 

Astarion.

Lae, do you mind sharing a room with Gale?" You asked, lowering your tone.

"Tck, are you trying to bed me and Gale?" She shot you a cold glance as you feing ignorance. 

She could think whatever if it meant you wouldn't hear her complaining every night. If you had to share a room with someone, you were oddly more comfortable with the idea of sharing your space with Astarion, and maybe it was for the fact that you were already closer. Feeding him every night meant learning how to share a small space and a closeness you were not willing to share with much people. Then in those nights you couldn’t rest, you’d sit together in front of the fire as you opened up to each other. It was a slow process for both of you, a little at a time you’d feed each other with bits of your hearts. You even mentioned a few times about that loneliness that was always devouring you, though you made sure to sugarcoat it a little, and he was very understanding of the bits you gave him.

You felt that you'd be more at ease with someone that understood loneliness the way you did, someone that wouldn't cross the boundaries unless you allowed him, cause if there was something you liked about him, it was the work he was doing on himself, relearning behaviors he couldn't claim before. Like the meaning of the word 'no', and how to trust, though he still pretended he didn't like anyone.

It was a shield he would put on, so that he couldn't get hurt or worse, rejected. He shared it with you in another sleepless night.

Though elves didn't need to sleep, during meditation something very akin to dreams was happening: your mind would focus on events of the past, over and over again, and you weren’t fond of your past crawling out again unwanted. Nevertheless, you both enjoyed sleep, there was something about those hours of nothingness that it made you breathe. 

Your attention was quickly drawn back to the room when Astarion and Gale were still bantering when Lae'zel lost her temper. "I'm done with you" She pulled out her knife menacingly, a good way to keep Gale in check when he would cling.

She pointed the knife towards Astarion first. "Tck, you take your stuff to Tav" She ordered, everyone's eyes were wide as they witnessed how she put them in check. Then she pointed the blade towards Gale, not a second of hesitation in her voice. "You sleep with me. You take the bed, I take the floor." She didn't wait for anyone's opinion, she picked up her belongings and disappeared behind a door.

You could still hear her complaining through the closed door. "Tchk, I don't like beds anyways, they are too soft"

Deep down you appreciated what she did, she understood more than what she gave away, and you would have to thank her one of those nights.

Everyone looked at each other speechless, before taking their turn to leave. It was an odd silence, a rare occurrence in your not so little marry-band. 

The room was definitely better than what you could see from a glimpse. It wasn't big, but the bed was big enough to fit you and Astarion comfortably, while the partition was just enough to create a nice bathing corner.

The bed was made with a set of linen sheets, and covered with a thick duvet to fight the cold of the shadow-cursed lands.

You dropped your bag on the right side of the bed before making a beeline to the tub. You spent a solid two weeks only in the underdark, the lack of water to wash you was agony.

You made good use of your magic by filling the tub with it, and keeping it warm. You labeled create bonfire useless a long time ago, when you noticed it was not enough to even roast a goblin, but it worked wonders for baths when you were short on time.

You were quick to discard your clothes and sink in the hot water, the steam coated the mirror in the room, as you allowed the water to caress your body.

Only a few minutes in the water passed by, and you realized how exhausted you were. Your movements were slow as you scrubbed away the dirt and sweat from your skin. You untied your hair, finally relaxing your sore scalp as you took your time massaging in your shampoo.

You wanted to go out for dinner, but when you put on your clean clothes, and tucked yourself under the comforter, that inevitable loneliness started growing thick on your body.

You wrapped your arms around your pillow as for a moment you wanted to disappear. Though you didn't want to move from there, you grabbed a book from your bag, your mage hand opening it and holding it for you as you tried to get distracted.

What was worse than being touch starved and in severe need of affection? Picking up the wrong book.

A fantastical love story between gods. If the book could make Umberlee and Valkur fall in love and find balance then why were you still alone?

You wondered if your parents angered a god when they were younger, and as a curse you ended up being shadowed by the incessant feeling of loneliness. 

As Umberlee cradled against Valkur's chest, you couldn't take it anymore. You dispelled the hand, letting the book drop down on the bed, careless if you lost the page you were at.

Your eyes pooled with the familiar salty tears, that night in particular it felt harder to shield yourself from the pain. So before you could fully have control of your body, the warm tears were flowing out like a river. 

It was your routine, in a way, to just let everything out at night instead of bottling it up, though the warmth of the comforter was not enough to satiate the warmth you wish hugged your body, yet you still tried your best to imagine it was a warm body that was pressed against yours. A soft hug that was trying to shield you from the outside. A whisper that reminded you it was okay to feel like this. Yet at the end of the day, you simply hid behind the delusion.

You didn't know how long you stayed there, in that fetal position you couldn't help but ball yourself into. Even after you finished all your tears and all that was left of it was the stains on your cheeks and your wet pillow, before Astarion appeared from the door, you were still cradled in that position.

You didn't speak or move, you just sunk a little more under the duvet.

"I noticed you didn't join everyone for dinner." He walked to your side of the bed, you couldn't see him but you could follow his footsteps before feeling his cold hand tap on your shoulder. 

"So I brought you some food" His voice was a whisper, as he slowly looked around the room, and then to you. Trying to catch what was going on. Insight check: succeeded.

"I know you are not feeling well, darling." He sat on the side of the bed, his hand gently swiping away a lock of your hair so he could catch a glimpse of your face. "But you need to eat something" This was a side of Astarion which you rarely had the chance to see, it was reserved for those nights where you allowed him to drink from you: the ever so soft touch and a voice that felt raw, more.. intimate. It was something that always made you cry later when you'd be alone, the closest you've been to that kind of physical touch you missed so much.

So many nights you wondered if he would be this soft with everyone he'd bed, until he admitted he didn't know how to be kind, caring, sweet, if not for show, and he wanted to give you some kindness back. 

You risked so much for him, including your neck, so he wanted to give you back at least a soft touch before leaving you to sleep, or the closest thing to some affection that he could manage.

So whenever he'd give you even the smallest of touches, you'd bask in it, taking as much as you could even from those small interactions.

His voice shook you from your thoughts again, his thumb swiped away a tear you didn't know you were shedding.

"My darling, what's going on?" You could feel the concern snicker between the honeyed words, trying to coax an answer from your quivering lips.

You wanted to find an excuse, something that would be much more serious than feeling lonely, yet all you said was that last word, a pained croak that escaped your lips.

Your heart clenched tightly as he hesitated just for a moment, wondering how much he could do to help you, without scaring you away.

But then he sat up, he took off the outer layer of his clothes, almost making you wonder if he already brushed your pained confession aside. He quickly reached in his bag for his nightshirt and made his way under the duvet.

He didn’t forget, at all.

With his face to yours he leaned forward, his palm touching your warm cheek as he finally could see you better. You tilted your head, almost silently begging for that innocent touch. Yearning for it.

His thumbs slowly dried your skin, catching the tears that would spill.

You both laid there in silence, you closed your eyes to avoid his stare, which was concentrated in taking in your shivering body.

"I understand," He whispered, almost as if they were hiding from someone. "I feel lonely too, every night" His voice was just like a caress against your ears, though it hid your same pain.

You wanted to say something, but no words would come out. The tadpole in your head squirmed, reminding you of its abilities just for a second.

Astarion didn't hesitate nor forced you out as you probed his mind, and when you were safely tucked in there, you just allowed your thoughts to flow free. Your every emotion spilling like a cup of coffee on the floor, even- accidentally- some of those memories of the loneliest nights where you just wanted to give up.

As soon as you slipped out from his brain, you sunk your head in your pillow, trying to hide those tears that you were starting to hate so much.

You couldn't comprehend what was happening at first, until your warm skin met with Astarion's cold chest. His arms held you close as he waited for you to raise your eyes to his.

He didn't know what he was about to say or do, he just allowed his dead and touch-starved heart to take control. 

Your gazes mixed in the middle, the veil that usually covered his emotions was pulled away, exposing his own hurt, his own need for affection, before his words struck you.

It was the occasional broken syllables that caught your ear, the way his mouth twitched and twisted before finishing a sentence, and the way his body would stiffen as he'd almost felt like a plea. It was not just to comfort you that he did whatever he did, it was for him as well.

He needed it just as much as you did.

His words would still echo in your brain whenever he'd caress your cheek. 

"Let's pretend just for a few hours that we are okay, that we fell in love. Let's pretend to be vulnerable. I'll be here pretending until you need me to, cause at the end of the day, we both deserve to feel loved, even if only for a split second. Let's pretend we are not alone." It was something between a hopeful proposal and a sad begging, something that reverberated through you like nothing has ever done before. His eyes were barely open as he still held you, you could tell from the way his fingers lingered on your exposed skin that he was taking the most out of this, for the eventuality that you'd move away from your grasp.

Instead you leaned completely against him, your head resting against his chest as you nodded.

His body softened around yours, his legs intertwining with yours as he'd place a kiss on your head.

[sissylittlefeather]

A/N: here it is! I finally finished it! This could be a prequel to my other two, if you want it to be. Otherwise, it's just a fun 2nd person Elvis x fem!reader one-shot about a young and innocent Elvis on the night he becomes a man. There are most definitely historical inaccuracies, but let's just let those slide please 🥺. I'd love feedback, if you have any!

Warnings: Virgin Elvis, f/m p in v sex, fingering, lots of kissing, kind of a slow burn, unprotected sex, cussing, etc

Last thing: I'm using a gif of Austin Elvis and one of the real deal EP because you can imagine either one. Whatever makes your heart happy.

Baby, What's Your Name?

You've always been bold for a girl of your generation. Your first kiss was your idea and you haven't been "innocent" for a while now. Not that you are open and available for anyone, you just don't hold back when it comes to falling in love.

The year is 1955 and your friend Margie has begged you to come with her to a concert tonight. You have class the next day, and you take your college studies very seriously, but you figure you can still get home at a decent hour. Apparently, there's a new singer that Margie is gushing over. She's heard from other girls that he's supposed to be "something to see". Margie doesn't have much else going on; school isn't exactly her thing. She'll tell anyone who'll listen that she's only there to find a husband. You roll your eyes at this thought and go back to flipping through your closet for something to wear.

"Y/n, just pick something! We're going to be late!" Margie begs, pouting. You settle on a pink and white gingham sundress, sweeping your hair into a ponytail and tying it with a matching pink ribbon. You barely get your shoes on before Margie drags you out the door of your room on campus.

******

The crowd is almost entirely female. "Who is this guy?" You think to yourself. Oh well, no matter. Hopefully it'll be over soon and you can go home and get in bed. It's already late and it's a warm night for September. Margie is bouncing around next to you in her seat.

"Oh my gosh, I just can't wait until he comes out! Eliza said he's the cutest thing she's ever seen!" You roll your eyes again. You do that a lot around Margie. You didn't pick her to be your roommate; the university did. Still, she's been a decent friend, even if she's a little ditsy and boy crazy.

Finally, the other acts are finished and the announcer comes out to let you know this new artist is coming out.

"Please welcome to the stage Elvis Presley!"

The crowd goes absolutely insane. You start to wonder if maybe you've been studying too much. How could you not know this man that everyone else is so crazy for?

He walks out to the middle of the stage. He's wearing a pink jacket that matches the color of your dress. You're surprised to find that he's much more attractive than you imagined he would be, with his boyish smirk and black hair. You sit up a little straighter in your chair, but a group of girls has gathered in the front standing up, so you can't really see anymore from your seat.

Margie grabs your hand, "Come on! Let's go up there!"

"No, no I'm okay here."

Then he starts to sing. Your heart skips a beat and something deep in your stomach turns over. You stand up without even thinking, trying to see better. Margie takes the opportunity and grabs your hand. You don't fight back as she drags you up to the stage.

When you get close enough to really be able to see him, the thing in your stomach flip flops again. He's moving. And not just, like, tapping his foot. He's moving his legs and his hips in ways you didn't even think was possible... not in public, at least. The thing in your stomach moves deeper in your body to the place between your legs. You are drawn to him like he's got some kind of spell on you. More girls press in behind you, but thanks to Margie, you were up there pretty early and you're only one row back from the stage.

You need him. You need him to notice you and want you too. You start racking your brain for what you can do to get his attention. Every other girl around you is screaming like a fool. That won't work. They're also reaching for him like they might pull him off the stage if he gets close enough. He's moving around the stage quite a bit, but he's very careful never to get too close. If only you had something to throw... but you don't have anything in your hands, no bracelets or anything, and the ribbon from your ponytail isn't heavy enough to make it all the way to the stage. He's singing a slower song now, playing his guitar and looking around the crowd. Somehow, his blue eyes make contact with yours and your heart stops. You become acutely aware of your panties and the place on your body directly under them.

Wait. That's it! That would certainly get his attention. And you could easily get them off with the crowd surrounding you. Also, your full skirt that goes all the way to your knees will keep anyone from really knowing they're missing. You start working them down your thighs and Margie notices you wiggling next to her.

"What are you doing?!"

"Don't worry about it."

Finally, you feel your panties hit your ankles and rest on your shoes. It's nearly impossible with the crowd pressing in around you, but you manage to get them off your feet and into your hand. You take a second to thank the heavens that you were wearing pretty pink ones with lace, and not your laundry day undies. You look up to the stage, assessing how hard to throw them to make it right to where he's standing. After spending years playing baseball with your brothers as a kid, you're pretty confident you can get them there.

You take one last look at him; he's holding the mic at an angle, leaned over it and singing with his whole body. The second he finishes the song and stands up, you use all the strength in your arm and calculations you've just done and throw...

They land perfectly at his feet. You couldn't have possibly done any better if your life depended on it. Margie and the other girls directly around you stop and look at you, trying to figure out what you've thrown on the stage.

"Now, what's this?" He asks, picking your panties up from his feet and holding them up. When he realizes what they are, he blushes deeply.

"Well, that's something I didn't expect." He laughs into the mic and looks out into the audience to try to figure out who has given him such an awkward gift. The other girls are staring at you with their mouths open, so it's not hard for him to figure out. Your blush matches his, though, so he simply nods his head slightly in your direction, puts your panties in his pocket quickly and quietly, and moves on to his next song. The girls go back to screaming and you feel various others in the crowd wiggling like you did just minutes ago. Before he can even finish the song, panties are flying on stage left and right. He starts laughing, "ladies, I'm very flattered, but this is really unnecessary!"

The announcer rushes back out onto the stage, stepping between Elvis and the microphone.

"Thank you, Mr. Presley, for such a lovely show! Now, that's the end of our program for the evening, everyone. Thanks for coming out and be safe on your way home!"

You feel a little guilty for ending his set early with your panty-throwing, but you didn't make all those other girls go crazy. Still, you wish he would stay up there forever, singing and moving his hips. You're not ready for this feeling to go away. Another crazy thought enters your head. Maybe you'll try to get your panties back...

******

It wasn't hard to figure out where he is staying. There's really only one nice motel in town and the cars from his tour caravan are in the parking lot. You managed to convince Margie to go on home, so you're alone. You're a little nervous, walking into the motel office, but your boldness wins out.

"Hi. I need to know which room Mr. Presley is in."

"Yeah, you and every other girl in town."

"Right, but he asked for me. Call him. I just forgot the room number." It's a flimsy lie and you know it. The motel worker picks up the phone and dials "121".

"Never mind, I was lying. You caught me. I had to try though, right?" You chuckle softly as you back out of the office. Once you're outside, you head straight to room 121. When you get there, you have a sudden attack of nerves. It's so late at night and you're about to knock on the door of a man you've never actually met. This is crazy.

You're standing there trying to decide what to do when the door opens and he almost walks straight into you.

"Oh, I'm sorry darlin', I didn't even see you there." You're frozen to the spot, speechless at his closeness to you as he stands in the doorway of his motel room. He explains something about wanting to talk to someone about how to keep the show going, even if the crowd gets rowdy.

"But I'm not sure why I'm telling you this. Why are you here?" His brows knit together in the center of his forehead.

"Me? I'm just... well... I believe you have something of mine." Again, your boldness beats your fear and you walk past him into his room. He looks out the door and around nervously before closing it gently and turning around to face you. The curtains are pulled shut tightly and the glow from the lamps makes everything in the room kind of orange.

"Something of yours? Honey, I'm not sure I know what you're talking about."

"Something I threw on the stage." You look him dead in the eyes, hoping he'll recognize you.

"Oh. Oh! It's you!" Thank heavens, he does recognize you. He blushes again, not as deeply this time, but the memory is affecting him.

"I do have something of yours, but I have no intention of giving them back." He smiles playfully and walks across the room to where his jacket is hanging on the back of a chair. He pulls your panties out of his jacket pocket and holds them tightly in his fist.

"The way I see it, you gave me these, fair and square."

"Well, I wasn't really thinking, and it's weird not wearing any..." you realize what you've just told him and his eyes slowly drift to just below your waist before he snaps them back up to meet your eyes again. He swallows hard and you stand there awkwardly, not sure what to say next. You walk across the room to him and reach for your panties. He holds them up high over your head and pouts.

"Do you really want them back?"

You're standing so close to him now that you can feel him breathing. Your heart is in your throat with the sensation of his closeness. You don't want your panties back. You want something else entirely.

"No..." you whisper quietly, trying to signal him that he could kiss you if he wants to, that he should kiss you.

Somehow, he reads your signals correctly and leans in slowly. He moves carefully watching for signs that this isn't what you want, but your upturned face and eyes closed softly are exactly what he's hoping for. When his lips finally touch yours, they're gentle, but soon after he drops your panties on the floor and grabs your face with both hands. His lips part yours and his tongue dips into your mouth hungrily. He moves his hands to your waist and you throw your arms around his neck, pulling him into a more passionate kiss. You're locked together like this for some time, kissing, before you realize his hands are shaking lightly. He pulls out of the kiss and puts his forehead on yours, breathing heavily.

"You kiss me like this much more, darlin' and I'm not sure I'll be able to stop."

"I don't want you to stop."

He pulls back and looks at you, his mouth hanging open in mild shock. You can't figure out why he's so nervous. You're saying "yes" in every way you know how. He swallows again deeply and blushes a little.

"Aw, now, honey, don't say things you don't mean. I've never..."

Your eyes widen in disbelief. His nervousness is starting to make sense. He's never done this before. He's a virgin.

The realization makes you smile and you giggle a little at the thought. This man, who dances on stage like he does this every other night, has never actually been with a woman.

"Well, it's not that funny." He pouts again.

"No, I'm sorry, it's not funny at all. But if you don't want to do this, tell me now. Because I won't let you if you really don't want to." You smile reassuringly, but your body is aching for him to touch more of you.

"I didn't say I don't want to." He goes in for another deep and passionate kiss, his tongue moving in ways you'd never imagined. All you can think about is his tongue touching you in other places and that warm spot between your legs gets even warmer. He picks you up by the waist, lifting your feet off the floor just enough to carry you to the bed. Laying you gently on the bed, he stops for a second and looks at you laying there in your pink gingham dress. You prop yourself up on your elbows and kick off your shoes.

"What?"

"Nothing... I just... pink is my favorite color." He mumbles before laying on the bed next to you. You're both laying on your sides facing each other and he begins to undress you carefully, first untying the ribbon in your hair. Then he slides his hand down your back to unzip your dress. The zipper ends where your panties should be, but aren't, and as his fingers brush your skin, you tingle all over. His hand travels back up to the latch of your bra. He fumbles with it for a bit, his fingers trembling, before he finally gets it unclasped. You become keenly aware that all he has to do is slide your dress forward and down and you'll be completely naked. You can see by the bulge in his pants that he's had this thought too. You put your hand up to his face, cupping his cheek.

"You're sure this is what you want?"

"Honey, I've never been more sure of anything in my life." He pulls your dress and bra forward and off of you, standing up to drop it on the floor with your shoes. Now you can really see his hardness pushing against his pants. He takes his shirt off and you sit up to unbutton his pants, letting them drop to the floor next to the pile of your clothes.

Now you're both naked. You touch him gently and he sighs and looks up at the ceiling. After a few seconds of this, he almost can't stand it anymore, so he lays you down on the bed, crawling on top of you, still trembling, but obviously gaining confidence. He presses his lips to yours again and you rub your tongue along his bottom lip before he opens his mouth into a deeper kiss. His hand moves down your body, stopping to caress your breast and run his thumb over your nipple. His hand shakes less and less as he moves further down your torso to your hip. He rolls to the side a little and walks his fingers over to the place between your legs. You open them just enough for him to slip a finger inside you. You let out a small moan against his mouth as he moves his finger in and out and in again. You stop kissing him and look into his eyes, reaching down to his hand. Gently, you guide his thumb to the spot that makes your stomach turn over and your heart beat faster.

"Here. Do circles." He listens eagerly and does exactly as you tell him. He feels the knot harden as he massages it, so he keeps up a consistent rhythm. You lose the ability to give him further instruction-- he doesn't need it anyway-- as the pleasure builds up between your legs. You can feel yourself approaching your climax and prepare yourself for the fireworks. He's watching you so closely, taking cues from your body about what to do next. He puts his finger back in you, doing a tickling motion with his fingertip against your insides. You might burst with all the electricity flowing through your body.

"Oh! Yes! Fuck!" You cry out as the ecstatic release washes over you and you begin to pulse around his finger. He smiles widely, amused by your cussing and pleased with his ability to give you an orgasm on his first try. You're not exactly sure how he managed it, but you really don't care. You're still riding your body high. He moves his hand back to your hip and you feel your wetness on his fingers. He's kissing you again, grinding his hardness against your thigh. Despite your release, you're ready for more of him inside you. You reach down again, wrapping your hand around him softly and moving his hips to line up with yours. You put his tip against yourself and pull back from his kiss.

"Last chance to back out." He smiles and looks directly into your eyes. Then, he pushes forward with his hips, just like he did on stage, filling you entirely. The sensation almost overwhelms him and he sets his forehead on your shoulder.

"Oh fuck, baby." Now it's your turn to smile at him for cussing.

"It actually gets better." He lifts his head off your shoulder to look into your eyes and there's an excitement in his that almost makes you laugh out loud. Instead, you plant a kiss on his lips and wrap your legs around his waist. He starts to pump in and out rhythmically. You're not surprised that he's good at this part. You've seen him move on stage. Still, you know he probably won't last too long, since it's his first time, and there's more you want to show him. You release him from your legs and push him off of you and onto his back.

"Oh no baby what...?" With one leg on either side of his hips, you lower yourself onto him. He nearly loses his mind as the change in angle changes the sensation. He moans deeply and grabs your hips, guiding your movement as you ride him. His pleasure is building up and you know he's close as you slide up and down. You move faster and faster, pushing him toward his climax.

"Oh fuck, shit, fuck baby!" He yells as you feel him shudder underneath you and fill you with his warmth. He moans loudly as you move up and down a few more times to really push him over the edge. With him still inside you, you lean forward and lay on his chest. He wraps his arms around you.

"Wow, honey, that was... wow." You smile against his chest, satisfied with your work. After a good amount of time in this position, you move off of him and lay down next to him on your back. He props himself up on his elbow and turns to face you.

"How soon can we do it again?" You chuckle at his eagerness as you realize you won't be making it back to your room tonight. Suddenly, his eyebrows come together on his forehead in worry and you rearrange yourself to look him in the face, mildly concerned at his expression. You brace yourself for some kind of confession. Instead, he smiles and innocently asks:

"Baby... what's your name?"

You erupt in peals of laughter, wrapping your arms around him and rolling over on top of him. You think of the panties on the floor of his motel room, so glad that Margie dragged you to the concert tonight. This might be the beginning of something wonderful.

"My name is..."

[zzznnnq]

★ Chapter Three: The Long Game

The day rolled on, and while Minji floated through her classes with a grin that wouldn’t leave her face, I stayed mostly quiet. The truth was, I wasn’t really the type to get caught up in this Valentine’s Day mess. Watching Minji confess to Karina made me think too much about how I was holding myself back—too careful, too distant. The slow burn of my feelings for Wonyoung felt like it was stretching endlessly, and honestly, that scared me more than I cared to admit.

Minji, on the other hand, was basking in the afterglow of her small victory. By lunchtime, she found me sitting under one of the big trees near the soccer field, avoiding the cafeteria crowd as usual. She flopped down next to me, her long legs stretched out in front of her. We were both taller than most of the other girls in school, a trait we inherited from our dad. It made us stand out, especially Minji, who had a kind of natural presence that drew people to her even when she wasn’t trying.

"Guess who smiled at me in the hallway again," she said, nudging me with her elbow.

"Let me guess," I said, playing along. "Karina?"

Minji nodded, grinning like a kid on Christmas morning. "She even waved at me this time. Like, full-on eye contact and everything."

"Sounds like she’s interested," I said, happy for her but keeping my tone even. "What are you gonna do next? Just wait around and hope she talks to you first?"

Minji shrugged, leaning back against the tree and staring up at the branches. "I don’t know. I mean, I don’t want to rush things, you know? We’re barely even friends. What if I mess it up?"

"You could start by just… talking to her," I suggested. "Like a normal person."

Minji groaned, running a hand through her messy ponytail. "You make it sound so easy."

"It kind of is," I said. "You’re already halfway there with the cookies. Just don’t overthink it."

Minji gave me a sidelong glance. "And what about you? Why don’t you take your own advice? I see the way you look at Wonyoung."

My stomach did a flip at the mention of her name, but I played it cool. "I don’t know what you’re talking about."

"Yeah, right," Minji laughed softly. "You’re about as subtle as a brick wall."

I shot her a glare, but she just smiled, unbothered. Minji might be the older sister, but we had this unspoken understanding of each other, like we could see through each other’s facades without even trying. It came with being so close in age, I guess.

We were different in a lot of ways, but at the core, we were both just trying to figure out how to deal with feelings we didn’t know what to do with. Minji might have been more forward about her crush on Karina, but I knew she was just as terrified as I was of getting hurt or rejected. That was probably why we were both so slow to act.

The sound of someone calling Minji’s name snapped us out of the conversation. I glanced up to see Yunjin jogging over, waving her arm wildly as if she hadn’t just crossed half the school yard to get to us.

"Minji! There you are!" Yunjin said, slightly out of breath as she reached us. "We’ve been looking for you everywhere."

Minji raised an eyebrow. "What’s up?"

Yunjin grinned, hands on her hips. "Karina’s in the gym right now with a couple of her teammates. You should go say hi."

Minji looked horrified for a split second. "Right now?"

"Yeah, right now," Yunjin insisted, giving her a playful shove. "What’s the worst that could happen? You guys had a whole moment this morning. Go in and keep the momentum going."

Minji glanced at me, her face a mix of panic and hope. I just shrugged, trying to hide the amusement bubbling up inside me. "Go for it."

"You guys are the worst," Minji muttered, but there was no real anger in her voice. She stood up, brushing the grass off her jeans, and took a deep breath. "Okay. I’m doing this."

"That’s the spirit!" Yunjin cheered, already tugging Minji towards the gym.

I watched them go, my heart doing that familiar twist as I saw Minji head off towards Karina. It was weird, being the one stuck on the sidelines, watching her be brave. Usually, it was the other way around.

Sighing, I leaned back against the tree, trying to shake off the weird feelings bubbling up inside me. But as if fate was mocking me, my eyes landed on Wonyoung again, this time standing near the basketball courts with Leeseo and Rei. She was laughing at something Rei said, her smile so bright it made my chest ache.

Wonyoung was beautiful. Everyone knew that. Tall, with long black hair and this effortless elegance that made her stand out even in a crowd. But what really got me was her personality. She was kind, confident without being arrogant, and funny in this quiet, unexpected way. It wasn’t just her looks; it was everything about her.

And that was the problem. How was I supposed to tell her how I felt without risking everything? We were friends—good friends. If I confessed and she didn’t feel the same, things would get awkward. Or worse, she might start distancing herself from me. I couldn’t handle that.

So, I stayed quiet. Watched from afar. It was easier that way.

"Still staring, huh?"

I jumped a little at the sound of Rei’s voice. She had snuck up on me while I was busy daydreaming, a knowing smirk on her face as she glanced between me and Wonyoung. Leeseo was with her too, both of them looking way too pleased with themselves.

"I’m not staring," I lied, crossing my arms defensively.

Rei chuckled. "Sure you’re not. You’ve been staring at her for months, Y/N. You think we haven’t noticed?"

Leeseo giggled, stepping closer. "It’s cute though. You should just tell her."

I shot them both a look. "I’m not telling anyone anything. Besides, it’s not like that."

"It’s exactly like that," Rei said, sitting down next to me. "But hey, we get it. Wonyoung’s kind of… perfect."

I glanced at Wonyoung again, my heart doing that stupid thing where it raced just from looking at her. "Yeah," I said quietly. "She kind of is."

Rei and Leeseo exchanged a glance, but thankfully, they didn’t push me any further. We all sat there for a while, watching the other students pass by, the warm afternoon sun making everything feel just a little slower, a little softer.

Minji’s words from earlier echoed in my mind: You’re about as subtle as a brick wall.

Maybe she was right. Maybe I wasn’t as good at hiding my feelings as I thought. But for now, I was okay with that. I didn’t need to rush into anything. I could wait, let the slow burn simmer until the time was right.

Or maybe I was just too scared to do anything else.