#anyone who says they can make it up as they go or do it in any order has clearly never ruined a cake before

[formulamar]

CONTROVERSIALLY YOUNG GF | PROLOGUE

max verstappen x femalereader

680 words

➛ disclaimer ➛

seven year age gap. please do not read if it makes you uncomfortable!!! completely fictional.

When you began to go out with Max Verstappen you anticipated for the news to make the celebrity gossip pages and cause an uproar among his fans. Afterall, it was Max Verstappen – four time world champion - you could hardly believe it yourself!

Miraculously, you and Max dated for six months without any interference from the media. It's not like your relationship was a secret or anything. Like any other couple you went out to the movies and dinned at nice restaurants. But early on in your relationship you discovered Max was a homebody, like you! So as you grew closer most of your time together consisted of hanging out at his apartment or yours watching movies or talking for hours. Still, everyone in your inner circle was astounded at how long you were able to maintain your relationship out of the media's radar.

Once you hit the six-month mark and it became clear to both you and Max that your relationship was serious you had a discussion about how outside discourse from the media would affect your relationship. Although you had only been with Max for six months you had witnessed how invasive fans and the media could be. You constantly saw articles discussing Max's private relationships with his family and his team. Every word, every action, every glance was examined and scrutinized. Max often joked that the more interviews he did the more he wished to move somewhere isolated and live out the rest of his days with you far from the judgment of anyone else. But you knew he loved driving too much to retire so early on in his career even with all of his success.

As always Max was direct, "The media is going to be annoying. They're going to make up the most ridiculous stories you've ever heard. Honestly, the best thing we can do is try ignore them as much as we can." You both agreed, the smartest decision was to take control of the narrative instead of running the risk of having your relationship leaked. So you decided to attend a beginning of the season Redbull event with Max. It was a well documented event and important media figures and photographers would be present. The timing was a bonus. Everyone was focused on the upcoming season and most of their curiosity was concentrated on the new car rather than the personal lives of the drivers. It was a perfect way to debut your relationship to the media.

That night approached quickly, and it would be a lie to say it wasn't one of the most nerve-racking nights of your life. As someone who wasn't famous it was intimidating to be exposed to that world. Luckily, your boyfriend saved you from overthinking. Max was reassuring and attentive the entire night. On the car ride to the event, he made sure to hold your hand and make casual conversation as if it were any other night. He also organized for you guys to enter through the back, away from the paparazzi. Throughout the whole night he barely left your side and when he did he made sure you were comfortable. These small details helped you stay grounded.

Overall, it was a good night. It was nice to finally meet members of the team who had such close bonds with Max. You loved hearing all the stories about Max's victories and his race weekend habits. It was obvious that his team adored him and that only confirmed what you had felt in your heart since the day you first met him -- he was a keeper. You and Max went home confident that you had beaten the media. What could they even say? Max was in a new relationship and he was happy. There was nothing else to it.

Except you made the mistake of glossing over a detail the media would never forget. Before you, Max had only dated women older than him. And you were six years younger than Max.

The next morning you woke up with a new identity. Max Verstappen's controversially young girlfriend.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌a/n: happy 2025 everyone 🫧 i had this idea… so i decided to go through with posting the first part. i’m thinking writing + social media posts! what do we think??? i’m open to suggestions so don’t be afraid to comment or inbox me!

[reignpage]

Frat Boy!Gojo

Cosmopolitan: sober thoughts

Word Count: 6.1k Contents: their first date, cursing, a little angsty, but mostly fluffy, not proofread (barely skimmed this so again, dunno how much sense it makes)

“Before you get any bright ideas, just know I’m sharing my location with at least ten people.”

Whistling, the biggest pain in your ass saunters over to you

The moon is full, a big white orb that would otherwise bring you a lot of peace to look at but right now, only pisses you off for reasons you’d rather not spend too much time pondering. Rarely anyone comes around these parts; it’s at the very edge of the city, a half-hour drive from campus, and surrounded by miles of dull, old suburbia. You’re standing in front of a metal gate, slightly taller than you, with vines wrapping around the pickets. It swings slowly with every gust of wind, creaking before it meets the stone wall with a bang.

Gojo grimaces. 

“Seriously, did you have to choose the scariest place in all of Eden? I mean, I respect the commitment to the aesthetic, but this is just crazy,” he grumbles, eyeing the cathedral from its huge marble pillars to the sharp spires piercing the night sky. 

You roll your eyes. Trust him to leave the date planning to you just to complain every step of the way. You’re already regretting playing along with whatever games he’s conjured up this time, but at least you’ve got home turf advantage; you know this place like the back of your hand. There won’t be any surprises happening tonight. 

Without replying, you walk off, heading straight through the gate. 

“Hey, wait! Don’t leave me here. I don’t want to end up as a statistic.”

Shrugging, you say, “If you’re scared, you can go back home.”

When he doesn’t say a thing and follows you, you smile. You win. But that feeling of victory doesn’t last very long because then he starts muttering about the cobwebs and how they’re everywhere, then about the tombstones, how they’re so messy with moss covering the engravings and that ‘the spirits must definitely be like so mad about all that’, and when you don’t respond to any of his musings, he even complains about the eerie music foreshadowing his pending doom, like in Jaws.

There is no music. 

“Where are we even going?” He pokes your shoulder, snatching his hand back faster than you can swat at it. “I thought we were going to, I don’t know, have a picnic under the stars and cuddle on top of someone’s grave, like Mary Shelley did.”

“How the fuck do you even know about that?” 

Gojo lifts one shoulder. “Must have heard it online or something.”

You roll your eyes again — you have a feeling you’ll be doing a lot of that tonight, maybe even for the rest of your life if things go the way your parents plan. When you had first found out the village idiot is the president of the most sought-after fraternity of the most prestigious university in the country, you thought maybe no one else had stepped up. But then you found out he’s a Legacy --the Gojos have governed that fraternity since its conception -- and well, the pieces fell into place. 

Mischief no doubt sparkling in your eyes, you look at him over your shoulder. His eyes are full of suspicion and when they meet yours, he becomes even more doubtful of your intentions. With a grin, you whisper, “We’re going someplace no one will hear you scream.”

“Kinky.”           

That didn’t have the desired effect. How annoying. Though you don’t fail to notice how he moves in closer to you, his warmth radiating to your body through your black, fur cloak. You don’t shift away. 

Gesturing for him to follow you through a gap in a wooden fence, you squeeze through to avoid splinters, pulling at your dress when a piece of lace catches on a nail. Just as you’re about to offer advice on how to contort his body to get through, he climbs over the fence and lands on his feet without stumbling, all in one quick sweep, like he’s who wanders these hallowed grounds at night and not you. 

“What?” He asks when he spots your glare. 

Not even those stupid sunglasses are out of place. Very annoying, indeed. 

“Come quickly,” you bark, fixing your silk gloves to cover more of your skin as the chill settles in. It’s only six in the evening, and yet there’s no hint of light in the broad expanse above you, just the moon and the stars lighting your way, and occasionally your companion’s phone flashlight when he needs to look at what he’s stepped in. 

He laughs. “No one’s ever said that to me before.”

“Do you make it a habit to talk about your sex life with a girl on a first date?”

“You’re the first, so not a habit. Not yet anyways.” 

Screeching to a halt, your hand clutches his elbow to still him. Your jaw is slack and you’re staring, completely disbelieving. “There’s no way this is your first date. You took that girl to the casino.”

Gojo stares off into the distance as he ponders the notion, fingers tapping his chin. Then, he insists, “No, it really is my first date. And anyways, I don’t consider that night a date; she pretty much invited herself along. It was more like I was just taking her to the casino as her escort. Or maybe that does count as a date. If so, then I’ve been on a lot of dates. But none where I’ve actually used the word date. Does that even matter because —“ 

You wave a hand in front of his face to cut off his rambling; he talks way too much. “So, you’re telling me, I’m the first girl you’ve ever asked out on a date? That’s insane, Gojo. You hate me.”

“I don’t hate you,” he protests with a frown.

“You sure acted like you did for months,” you counter. 

He insists, “I don’t hate you. Never did. I just acted out but yeah, I’m sorry. I was a dick.”

Clearing your throat, you straighten up and continue walking. “It’s fine. Water under the bridge.” 

“You sure? ‘Cause I can get on my knees and beg.”

“Don’t tempt me, Gojo.”

He catches up to you and hums a playful tune, his light mood returning; Serious Gojo is gone like he never existed. “Guess that’s what you’re into, huh?”

“You’ll never know,” you snort, pushing a branch away from your face and letting it snap back into his chest, he yelps.

His hand reaches past you, lifting a thicker branch high above the both of you, before leaning close to your ear and whispering conspiratorially, “We’ll see.”

Disregarding the shiver than runs through you, you push on, moving almost on muscle memory alone. Your mind is attempting to distract itself by scanning the area, being careful not to be caught on church grounds after hours, pushing through the woodland to get to the clearing tucked away at the very back, where you go for peace and quiet. 

Truthfully, you have no idea why you decided to have this date here, of all places. This place is sacred. Literally but also figuratively — this is the place you always ran to when the world got a little too loud, a little too busy and bright for you. No one else knows about this haven as far as you’re aware and you always thought you’d do anything to keep it that way. And yet, you’re showing it to him. Actually, guiding him to the place. 

You should have at least blindfolded him so he couldn’t memorise the way. 

Maybe you wanted to spite him by living up to his expectations and being the gothic monster that he thinks you are -- you want to scare him off before he lets his curiosity take him too close to something that might scald him. He needs to be afraid of you. 

Or maybe you recognised that shadow in his eyes, the ones that suggests he’s lost as much sleep about this whole farce as you and thought he could do with a little silence. 

You both arrive at a thick bush, a massive wall of a shrub towering over even Gojo. Behind you, the cathedral is only a blob, lit up by lanterns, whereas you’re both submerged in darkness; there are no streetlamps here. 

“I’m totally going to be murdered here, aren’t I?” He whistles as if to say, ‘it’s been a good life, and I’ll have to just accept my fate’. 

“Yeah, I was lying when I said it was all water under the bridge. I’ve actually been colluding with the devil to sacrifice your white ass.”

Gojo laughs.

He laughs a lot, but rarely like this, you note. He chuckles when his friends do something stupid like push him into the fountain, and he snorts when he reads the most recent article on The Bulletin. But you’ve never really seen him throw his head back and clutch his stomach, at least not with anyone but you. He does it when you get caught texting him under the dinner table, when you give him the middle finger from across the Quad, and that one time you bumped into him in the hallway and almost apologised before you realised it was him.

It’s the kind of laugh that’s infectious, and you hoped every time he does it that you’re somehow immune. However, when he looks at you with a brightening sparkle in his eyes, you realise you’re very much not. 

You clear your throat again. 

“Through here, is a very special place. You must swear you will not desecrate this place, lest the Mother Crone curse you for your treachery,” you announce, wiggling your fingers at him for extra flair. 

Placing a hand on his heart, he stomps his foot like a soldier and swears, “I would never. I will take this secret to the grave.”

Satisfied, you grab the loose part of the hedge wall and pull it aside to reveal the little doorway to your secret hideout. He throws you a side glance before he ducks down and enters. You follow behind him, tucking the disguised door behind you. 

He doesn’t say a thing as you zoom to the side where you grope for something in the grass, right under part of the hedge. When you feel the smooth, cold plastic, you don’t hesitate to switch it on. 

Long wires of fairy lights light up, bulb by bulb, along the top of the hedge and down, like a really wide Christmas tree circling the hidden clearing. You hear him mutter a ‘woah’ under his breath as he scans the area — there’s only one thing here on the flat ground, it’s also lit up fairy lights along the top pole. It’s your most prized possession.

“You have a swing?” He shouts incredulously. Giggling like a child, he makes a run for it, jumping onto one of the two seats where he rocks back and forth on his feet. Then he’s whooping as he swings higher and higher, hair whooshing back and forth as he grins, taking in the cold autumnal air and the growing warmth of the lights. “This is freaking awesome!”

Sitting on the spare seat, you kick your feet gently so you can swing a little. Deep down there was a worry festering within, anxious that he would find this place boring, that he’d scoff at your idea of fun especially on a first date, but looking up at him, still hollering and grinning, you think, that was such a silly thought. 

Gojo slows to a mild back and forth momentum and wonders, “Are you sure I’m allowed to be here? This place seems pretty private, like your own mancave or something. Do girls have a version of a mancave? ‘Womancave?”

In the corner of your eye, you see him clamber down to sit as you answer his question. “I wouldn’t have taken you here if you weren’t allowed, dumbass.”

“Yeah, well, I’m still not convinced this isn’t an elaborate scheme to murder me and hide my body in a grave.”

“Neither.” You shrug. 

He laughs. 

Eventually, you both swing side by side, alternating up and then down. The wind is howling a little, rustling the trees surrounding you and the moon’s obscured by dark cloud. Neither you nor he say anything to break the silence. You were also worried that you’d come to hate his presence in your safe space, finding his tall, lanky presence an irritation, but surprisingly, you don’t mind it. 

It’s nice to have company. 

Especially when that company is keeping his mouth shut. 

“How often do you come here?”

Or not. 

With a sigh, you reply, “Like twice a week. I can’t come as often as I’d like because of all the classes and stuff, not to mention all the wedding planning we have to do.”

“Guess you have it worse than me since I don’t even need to be fitted for a suit; they already have my measurements,” he muses. 

“For whatever reason, it’s always the women who have to plan these things, even though it’s the men that propose.” You accidentally make eye contact with him. “Or at least, that’s how it usually goes.”

Gojo hums, a little sheepishly, before he changes the subject. “So, how did you find this place?”

“We buried my grandmother in the graveyard when I was fifteen. We were close and I took the loss pretty hard. I couldn’t stand all the people pretending they cared so I ran off, got lost and found this clearing. Well, I actually fell through the hedge, but I found it, nonetheless. And this swing was here already. I don’t know how long it’s been here or why it’s here, but it is.”

“That sounds like a fairytale.” He swivels, swinging a long leg over to straddle the seat, facing you as he leans back against the metal chain. “I’m sorry for your loss, by the way. I lost my grandmother too and it was rough.”

You saw that on the news years ago, it was one of those private family events that make the national headlines by complete virtue of the family name. Your parents grieved in public like it was their own loss and you didn’t understand why. Of course, as you got older, you became more and more acquainted with the idea of ‘reputation’ and ‘public image’, but you still feel that same distance to the concept as you did when you were but a child. 

“I’m sorry for your loss,” you repeat back to him.

He shrugs. “It’s alright. I’ve got my gramps. We’re best buddies.”

“You have a lot of best buds, don’t you?” 

Gojo strikes you as the kind of guy who makes friends easily, thought you question the depth of most of those friendships; sincerity is a rare phenomenon in your world. 

“No,” he huffs, “I have Suguru, the girl that gave you my number, and gramps. I have lots of close friends, though.”

Considering his words, you realise you don’t have any best friends. Sure, you have friends you hang out with often, people that share your interest, that you can party with, but none you feel as strongly about as he does with those three people. You can hear it in his voice, the conviction, the pride, the confidence. And when you glance at him, you know he doesn’t even realise how defensive he sounds about his people.

How nice it must be to have someone like him as a friend.

“We could be friends, if you’d like,” he offers, and when you look at him with confusion, he adds, “You said it out loud, silly. You think I’m a good person to be friends with. Which, of course I am. I’m like super awesome.”

You burst out laughing. What he said isn’t even funny and he certainly doesn’t mean for it to be, but for some reason it is. So, you laugh, throwing your head back and clutching your stomach. He makes noises of complaints, telling you it’s rude to laugh at people. That makes you laugh harder. 

“Gojo, be serious for a second. We can’t be friends, idiot,” you push out between puffs of laughter. 

He frowns, lips twitching to fight back a smile at your flushed face. “Why not? We’re getting along fine right now, aren’t we?”

“Yeah, for now. But we’re going to be married. Or at least, we’re supposed to be. And think of all the complications that brings, it just doesn’t provide the conditions for a healthy friendship, especially considering our beginning. Think of all the people in our circle who had arranged marriages. How many of them get along? Like, really get along. Hell! Think about our parents.”

“Well, we could be different. We don’t have to end up like them. We can break the cycle or something.”

You stop laughing.

Something shifts in the air, like the moon’s reappeared, the wind’s slowed down, and his eyes shine just a little brighter. It’s sudden and you almost don’t notice it, almost shrug it off. But there’s a sincerity lingering between you and it demands your attention.

Fixing him a solemn look, perhaps similar to the one he gave you before, you assert, “That sounds an awful like an admission of surrender, Gojo.”

“Maybe it is.”

The speed at which he concedes, the sheer resolution in his eyes and the way he doesn’t falter when he says it all scream at you something you won’t accept. Can’t.

He grips your elbow, his long fingers wrapping around the limb with ease, demanding your attention. The sombre expression on his ghostly face haunts you. It’s like he’s shifted into a different person, into someone years older, a man burdened with great responsibility. 

“I’m sorry. About how I started this year off. I regretted everything I said as soon as I said them. I can’t even remember why I said and did those things, but I definitely don’t have a good reason,” he rasped, a desperation lacing his words like he needs you to understand, like he tosses and turns over it. “I know you’re just as much a victim of this as I am, but I was facing a problem I didn’t know to solve, and I lashed out. At you. At someone who didn’t deserve it. And I’m sorry.”

You reel back, snatching your arm away. His touch burns the way ice does, and you have to rub warmth back into it, despite the layers between your skin and his. The sincerity in his eyes is alien, revealing far more about the ongoings of reality than you can absorb in one night. Confusingly, your heart is pounding to the beat of a song you’ve never heard before. 

This date thing, taking him to your secret haven, giving him the opportunity to see you not as the enemy but rather as a woman was a mistake. It’s all one big mistake. It would have been fine if he had stayed as the Gojo you knew, the boisterous, obnoxious party animal that cares only about immediate gratification. But the man in front of you is not someone you can marry. He isn’t the type of man you can be around and feel absolutely nothing for. 

“I’m hungry,” you mutter, standing abruptly.

He looks up at you, something passing in his eyes, almost akin to disappointment or sadness, and you can’t bear to think about what that could mean, so you simply gesture for him to follow you. 

In silence, you walk back the way you came, using your phone’s flashlight to navigate through the thick haze of darkness. This was a mistake; you let him in for a second, gave him a glimpse into your life, and you aren’t even sure why. Was it because you could hear your mother’s voice telling you to do whatever it takes to drag the man to the altar or because, despite yourself, you actually wanted to see what going on a date with Gojo means? 

Maybe it was both. 

Or neither. 

You’re losing more and more of yourself these days, doing things you’d never thought you’d do for one reason or another, and you no longer even know what you want. Your pride or your family? A marriage with Gojo or the friendship he’s offering? Is there’s a third option.

“What’d you wanna eat?” He asks, rocking back and forth on his feet as he stares up at a streetlight. 

You’ve both made it back onto the main road, the swings a mile away. He didn’t press the topic more, simply walked beside you and pushed branches away like before. 

It’s nearing eight in the evening and your stomach growls. 

“Who said I’m eating with you?”

Gojo rolls his eyes and pokes your shoulder. With a sulky tone, he groans, “Don’t be mean. You’re hungry, I’m hungry, let’s eat. Simple!”

“Can you cook?” 

He beams, sunglasses sliding down the bridge of his nose as he looks at you over them, bright eyes sparkling with what you can only guess to be mischief. You realise you really should think before you speak. 

—

That’s how you find yourself in his frat house kitchen, cloak discarded, hair up and gloves off. His frat members are out, partying, he claims, so the whole house is free. When he suggested it, you looked at him like he was insane, but he only wiggled his brows.

“You scared?” He cocked his head, grinning at you in a way that made you want to punch his teeth in. 

Narrowing your eyes at him, you responded, “No, of course not.”

Gojo bent his arms and rocked his head, making clucking noises that echoed in the empty street. Every note pierced your body, mocking and goading. You knew exactly what he was doing, and it was fucking working, the stupid bastard. Without responding to his accusation, you stomped over to his car and gave him a glare. He fetched his car keys and spun them on his finger with a victorious whistle.

“Grate this,” he orders. 

His kitchen is huge, which is understandable for the size of the house and how many people live here. Apparently, there’s three more kitchens in the damn place, not that you believe even a quarter of the guys that live here know what a cutting board is. The kitchen is surprisingly clean, however. It’s sparkling clean. 

“We have cleaners that comes in every other day,” he chuckles, noticing your looks of complete judgement whilst he boils some pasta. “But we are pretty strict on cleanliness, regardless. And everyone knows, I’m not afraid to crack the whip to keep everyone in line.”

Scoffing, you clarify, “You? Cracking whips? I find that hard to believe.”

He leans against the island you’re stationed at, the sound of water simmering filling the small space between you. Watching you grate the cheese, he hums, fingers fiddling with the lace of your sleeve. He mutters, “I know how to be serious when I need to be.”

You hum too. 

Still fiddling with the fabric, you ignore his wandering hand, fingers slipping under to roll the soft lace between his fingertips. Goosebumps rise on your skin. His touch is tentative, hesitant and gentle — one would think he’s just afraid to snag the fabric, acknowledging the craftsmanship, but one glance up at him, seeing his gaze fixated on your exposed skin more than your sleeve, you know otherwise. 

“Hands to yourself, Geralt.”

“If I’m Geralt, that must make you Yennefer,” he retorts. With a laugh, he pulls away, returning to the stove to tend to the pasta sauce. You don’t realise how much warmth he generated until you feel a sudden draught. 

The smell of frying onions and garlic is delicious and you’re becoming more and more starved by the second. He’s agile, moving swiftly and on muscle memory as he opens drawers and cabinets to gather the things he needs. 

“How often do you cook?” You ask, arm getting tired from the motion of grating the block of cheese.

Gojo shrugs and admits, “Not as often as I’d like. Weekends are for parties and pizza and all the other days, everyone’s doing their thing, studying or whatever, and eating by myself is kinda sad, so I just eat out usually.”

“How is it possible that you eat out so often but still remain so skinny?”

That was apparently the wrong thing to say because the next thing you know you’re being spun around and pressed into the island with a hard body. His arms are caging you in, keeping you still as he grins at you. 

He had thrown his jacket by the door when you both walked in; his biceps bulge as he flexes. They’re so much bigger now, or maybe they were always like that. And he’s pressed so close his Adam’s apple is right in front of you, bobbing when you tilt your head back so you can meet his eyes. 

“I’m plenty jacked, actually,” he brags and to add salt to the wound, he leans down, cheek brushing against yours to whisper against your ear, “wifey.”

You shove him off, snorting at his lame line. He back away with little protest. Trying to hide the heat in your face, you wash your hands, turning away from him completely. 

The rest of the hour passes by in a blink of an eye, and you finally sit down at the dining table across from each other. He’s a decent cook and you pay him a compliment even though it physically hurt to do so. 

“Do you not cook very often?” 

“I make sandwiches and ramen, that’s as far as I know how to do,” you admit with no shame.

He pours you a cup of water and asks, “Do you not have a chef to pre-make meals for you? My father insisted I have one, but I complained to my gramps about the lack of privacy and independence, and he gave up pretty quickly.”

You pause. It’s a stupid question to ask someone, from anyone else it’d drip in condescension, but you know he’s genuinely asking and it’s a valid question, just not one you’re ready to answer. So, with a careful shrug, you say simply, “I’m fine with the way things are.”

Gojo doesn’t sense the tense quiver of your voice, or if he does, he has enough tact to ignore it, so he continues the conversation. He talks to you about what being a frat president entails, and you tell him your experiences as the Treasurer. 

He also shares stories of his friends: the time ‘the gang’ snuck into the gym to put shaving cream in Toji’s locker after he had his room bubbled wrapped down to every single pair of boxers, each and every one of his friends’ drunk habits, and how he’s actually a lightweight so he sticks to beers most of the time but he hates the taste and actually much prefer cocktails. 

“Wait, wait,” you say between laughs, “you drink cosmos in secret ‘cause you don’t want your frat mates knowing their president actually hates beer?”

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. But it isn’t my fault those things taste like wheat piss!”

You laugh harder. “They do! They totally do!”

“Has anyone ever said you have a pretty la—“

“Woah!” A voice yells out. “What’s going on here?”

You both turn to look at the wide-open door. Two men walk in, they’re in gym clothes, wide toothy grins on their faces as they stare between you and their president. You recognise them as second years, often hanging around Gojo in pictures or loitering in the Quad. 

One guy, a fake blond, wolf whistles when he sees you. “Satoru, you didn’t tell us you were having a girl over. It’s been a while; we rarely even see your bestie nowadays.”

“Yeah, this is a sight for sore eyes. This place was getting too much hotdog and not enough buns, if you know what I mean.”

When they both guffaw, you grimace. Their voices are grating, like sharp notes, and despite yourself, you cower in your seat. You hate the way they’re looking at you, in half desire and half repulsion — they’re enjoying the sight of a woman in their space, but they don’t know what to make of your attire. Usually, you don’t let people like them get to you, not their comments and not their stares. But something’s different, you’re more sensitive, less guarded. 

“Isn’t she your fiancé? We’ve heard all about her. The girls from Delta Sigma said she dresses like a witch, and well, they aren’t entirely wrong.”

“Get out.”

Three heads turn. Gojo’s standing; you hadn’t seen him move. He’s leaning on his fingertips, head hanging as he stares at his empty plate. No one says a thing. There’s no air in here anymore. Only silence, a grim, gut-wrenching silence. 

They stammer. “H-hey, man. What’s wrong?”

“Get. Out.”

“Come on, we’re just messing around,” the fake blonde chuckles nervously. 

Gojo looks up, slowly, like a creaking door. When his eyes settle on them, they stagger back with the force of his disappointment, and again with his wrath. Though you feel the tendrils of that infinite space between you, you don’t bear its impossible weight. 

With his body tense, veins bulging along his arms, broad shoulders pushed back ready for something you can’t quite grasp in this moment, you realise he really is jacked. And those muscles aren’t just for show or pressing girls against marble countertops. 

As great as it would be to be his friend, it’s even greater to not be his enemy. You didn’t realise it then, but you do now, if Gojo had ever really wanted to make someone disappear, he probably could have done so. 

“You would do well to remember that I, as descendent of the founder of Alpha Phi Delta, have a right to terminate any fraternity brother’s membership without a need for sufficient cause. Just because I’ve never exploited that clause doesn’t mean I’m above it. So, get out. Now.”

Cheeks red and heads hung low, they walk back out without sparing you another glance. 

Gojo sits back down, shoulders still tense. 

The silence hasn’t disappeared, but it has lightened, much more tolerable now. With an uncertainty in your movements, you push your knife and fork together and pat your lips dry. 

“Well, this has certainly been an eventful night,” you say. “I really ought to go, though.”

Gojo nods and takes your plate, leaving to go to the kitchen whilst you freshen up in the bathroom. 

When you come out, he’s already waiting outside with his hands tucked in his pockets, staring up at puffs of clouds he breathes into the night sky. There’s a sombre air around him, like you’re better off not disturbing him, but when he spots you from the corner of his eye, that air evaporates and he beams, literally brightens, practically shadowing the moon. 

“Hey, come on, I’ll drive you to your dorm,” he asserts with a smile. 

And he does. You get into his car for the second time of the night and watch the campus blur past you. Through the ten-minute car ride, he sings along to the pop songs on the radio, bopping his head to every beat like they’re coursing through his veins. 

“You don’t know these songs? Really?” 

He’s completely incredulous, looking at you as if you’ve grown two heads. You roll your eyes and jokingly explain you’re committed to the aesthetic. He finds that funny. The rest of the ride continues wordlessly.

“Alright, this is me,” you announce when he parks. He climbs out the car with you, leaning against his door as you shuffle awkwardly on your feet. “Despite certain parts of the time being…stiff, should we say, I had a lot of fun. Surprisingly.”

A tinge of red colours the tips of his ears. “Yeah, me too. I expected to lose my life, or at least a few limbs, at that graveyard, so I’m pretty happy with the turnout.”

You roll your eyes. “And I’m very happy I’m not covered in pig’s blood coming out of your frat house.”

“No, closest we had to that was the pasta sauce,” he chuckles. 

“Which was surprisingly delicious, by the way. You should cook more often instead of the junk food you eat.”

“Says you?” He pushes your shoulder lightly. “Miss Cup Noodles.”

“Whatever.”

The conversation dies there, laughter fading as both of you eye the doors of your dorm building. You pull your cloak tighter around you, irritated that, even though he’s just in jeans and a plain graphic tee, he’s seemingly unbothered by the temperature drop. 

“You should go in,” Gojo suggests, voice softer, barely louder than a whisper. 

You nod and make a step to go, but then a warm hand wraps around your wrist, tugging you back. He’s carrying the weight of it in his palm, thumb grazing your wrist. There’s electricity thrumming where he touches and you’re about to snatch your hand away before he tightens his grip. 

“Just a second,” he mutters, before pulling out something from his pockets. Something black. 

Your gloves. 

You forgot to put them on, having left them in the kitchen. 

He’s taking his time, smoothing the material over your knuckles, ensuring your fingers are tucked in properly. His thumb lingers on the curve of each finger, exploring the slopes. Your breath hitches as his hands envelope yours completely, his touch deliberate and light and there’s no other way to describe it: it’s positively reverent. 

The glove slide snugly into place, a second skin but they feel new, as if fresh from the machine, still warm. 

You shouldn’t let him reach for your other hand, shouldn’t just watch as he unfolds the other glove, slipping it on with much more care than you yourself had ever done. His eyes are watching the fabric consume more and more of your skin, until they meet the ends of your sleeve, and no skin remains. 

“Gojo,” you breathe out. 

He shakes his head, brows furrowing. “Satoru. Call me Satoru.”

When he finally looks up, your eyes meet and your pulse quickens, quick and short breaths pulling your chest up and down. You didn’t even realise one hand is clutching his shoulder whilst the other remains in his grip. And you certainly don’t notice that you’re standing much closer than before, only a hair’s breadth from finding out whether his lips are as soft and plush as his touch. 

“You smell really nice,” he whispers, thumb running across your knuckles, like he’s willing warmth into your hand. 

You’re so close it only takes one gust of wind to push you together, to taste what a future with him could mean, to seal the first date with something that’ll keep you up at night. Just one kiss, one bad decision and everything could fade away for a second. You could pretend he’s just a boy and you’re just a girl and this is a normal date, that you have a normal relationship and tomorrow you could go back to being arranged lovers. 

His lashes flutter, so long and wispy and you’re jealous. Flickering between your eyes and your lips, you know he’s searching for any sign that you might want this just as bad as he does. You’re craning your head back, back arched to reach him, and when your chest rubs against his for a millisecond, he shuts his eyes with a groan.  

“Hey! If it isn’t Gojo,” a gruff voice bellows.

You step back, gasping for air and desperately smoothing your skirt down as you give a shaky smile to the newcomer. He’s a tall, buff man wearing shorts and carrying a basketball. He pats Gojo on the back, oblivious to the tension, to the way his friend is pouting, grumbling about how he ‘ruined the moment.’

The man looks at you with a friendly enough smile, eyeing your appearance with nothing more than curiosity before he gives you one of those manly nods. 

“Whatcha doing at my girl’s dorm?” He asks. 

Clearing his throat, Gojo answers, “Just dropping my wi—I mean, my friend off. Yeah, just stopping by.”

The guy doesn’t look ready to stop talking. So you take the initiative to excuse yourself with an awkward kiss on the white-haired boy’s cheek and you whisper, “Goodnight...Satoru.”

You don’t wait for him to reply.

Just as you’re about to enter your dorm building, you hear a distinct, “Dude, I totally cockblocked you, didn’t I? Fuck, put that thing away. You’re gonna poke my fucking eyes out!”

You smile just as your phone pings.

[piastrisun]

the one with the new year’s kiss.

pairings: lando norris + fem fewtrell reader.

summary: after ten months of secretly dating, you and lando find yourselves longing for a simple new year’s kiss but needing a little help to take the risk and make it happen.

genre: fluff.⠀word count: 1.2k.⠀ warning: none.

notes: little scrap inspired by monica and chandler. also, first one shot of the year!!! i hope you enjoy it and i wish you all the best. <3

the room buzzes with excitement as the countdown to midnight approaches. the annual new year’s eve party hosted by your friend group is in full swing, laughter and chatter weaving through the room like confetti in the air. you’re perched near the drinks table, trying to appear as casual as possible, though your heart races every time your eyes dart to lando. he’s across the room, chatting with a group of friends, his smile easy and his laugh infectious. it’s a sight you’ve admired countless times over the past ten months. but tonight, there’s an ache in your chest because, while everyone else sees him as just another friend in the group, to you, he’s so much more.

dating in secret has been both thrilling and exhausting. the stolen moments, quiet conversations, and late-night drives have kept your relationship alive and safe from prying eyes. but here, at this party, you have to act like you’re just another face in the crowd. the longing to kiss him at midnight grows stronger with every glance, but the fear of being caught feels just as heavy.

earlier in the night, keegan caught you sneaking looks at lando. you pulled him aside into the kitchen, your voice quiet and tinged with frustration. “i just want to kiss him at midnight,” you confessed, leaning against the counter. “for once, i want to feel normal, like we don’t have to hide.”

keegan studies you, his brow lifting as a knowing smile spreads across his face. “you really like him, don’t you?”

you nod, feeling your cheeks warm. “i do. but we can’t let max or anyone else find out. you know how he is about me and his friends.”

keegan crosses his arms, considering your words. after a moment, his grin widens. “alright, i’ve got an idea. just trust me, okay?”

“what are you planning?” you ask, your voice sharp with suspicion as you cross your arms. your eyes narrow, scanning his face for any trace of his usual mischief.

he grins, the kind of grin that’s both infuriating and impossible to ignore. “you’ll see,” he says, his tone teasingly cryptic. his eyes glint with something that makes your heart skip—a mix of confidence and playfulness you’ve seen too many times before.

before you can press him further, he winks, a quick, knowing flick of his eyelid that leaves you bristling with curiosity. then, as if on cue, he steps backward into the crowd, melting seamlessly into the hum of the party, leaving you standing there, a mix of intrigue and exasperation swirling inside you.

now, as the minutes tick closer to midnight, your eyes find lando across the room. there’s a flicker of something unspoken in his gaze—a quiet question that mirrors your own longing. it’s a moment you’ve shared countless times in secret, but tonight, it feels heavier. tonight, you both want more.

keegan sidles up to you, a mischievous smile tugging at his lips. “i’ve got this all worked out,” he whispers, leaning close so no one overhears. you can feel the warmth of his breath against your ear. “when the countdown hits, everyone’s going to kiss whoever they’ve been paired with. and guess what? i made sure it’s you and lando.”

your breath catches, and you glance at him in surprise. “keegan, are you serious? what if max—”

“relax,” he interrupts, his tone reassuring. “max is fine with it. he thinks i’m just saving his little sister from kissing some random stranger. besides, it’s new year’s—nobody’s going to question it.”

you glance toward max, your older brother, who is deep in conversation with a few friends. keegan claps a hand on your shoulder. “trust me,” he says with a wink before disappearing back into the crowd.

you glance over at max, who’s laughing with a group of friends, completely unaware. relief mixes with nerves as you turn back to keegan. “you’re sure this will work?”

“positive,” he says with a confident nod. “just enjoy it. you deserve this.”

the minutes tick down, and you feel the anticipation building like a wave ready to crest. the room fills with voices shouting the countdown: “ten! nine!” your stomach twists into knots as lando weaves through the crowd, his eyes locking with yours now.

“seven! six!”

“hey,” he says, stopping in front of you just as the voices drop to “five! four!” his voice is low, a little unsure, but the soft curve of his smile reassures you.

“hey,” you manage to reply, your voice almost drowned out by the cheers as the room erupts in celebration. around you, people kiss their partners, the air filling with laughter and clinking glasses.

when he reaches you, his smile is soft but uncertain, like he’s afraid of overstepping. “keegan’s idea?” he asks, his voice low enough that only you can hear.

you nod, a shy smile tugging at your lips, your heart fluttering in your chest. “yeah. are you okay with this?” the question hangs in the air, tentative, yet filled with quiet anticipation.

his eyes search yours, soft but sure, as he steps closer. “more than okay,” he says, his voice warm and steady, like a promise. there’s a pause, just long enough for the unspoken words to settle between you.

“three! two!”

his hand brushes against yours, the touch sending a jolt of warmth up your arm. “we don’t have to if you’re not comfortable,” he murmurs, he says, his voice barely above a whisper, but his eyes—those warm, familiar eyes—search yours, offering you the choice.

you shake your head, a shy smile tugging at your lips. “no,” you whisper, shaking your head as your heart pounds. “it’s okay, i want to.”

“happy new year!” the room erupts in cheers, but the noise fades as he cups your cheek gently, his thumb brushing against your skin as he leans in. the moment stretches, your heart pounding in your chest, until his lips finally meet yours. it’s soft and sweet, the kind of kiss that speaks of every secret glance, every stolen moment over the past ten months. for a moment, it’s just the two of you. the secret glances, the stolen moments, the quiet confessions—it’s all there, wrapped up in this single, perfect kiss.

when you pull back, your cheeks are warm, your breath a little unsteady. “happy new year, love” he murmurs, his forehead resting lightly against yours.

“happy new year,” you reply, unable to stop the smile spreading across your face.

from the corner of your eye, you catch keegan giving you a sly thumbs-up, his grin wide with satisfaction. max, thankfully, seems none the wiser, too busy cheering with the others. you glance back at lando, his eyes still locked on you, and in this moment, it feels like the rest of the world has fallen away.

lando’s hand slips from your cheek to rest lightly on your waist, pulling you in a little closer. there’s a quiet intensity between you now, a shared understanding that this moment is more than just a kiss at midnight. you feel a weight lift off your chest—the secret you’ve been holding for so long now feels just a little lighter.

“i can’t believe we just did that,” you whisper, your voice soft, but your heart racing.

lando chuckles, his nose brushing gently against yours as he lets out a breath. “you’re telling me. i thought for sure keegan was going to screw it up somehow.”

you laugh softly, the sound warm between you. “i never would’ve guessed he’d pull this off.”

lando’s smile deepens, but there’s something different in it now—something a little more vulnerable, a little more real. “he knows what’s important.” he pauses, his hand still on your waist as his thumb draws slow, soothing circles on your skin. “and he knows we’re more than just friends, doesn’t he?”

you nod slowly, your heart swelling as the realization hits you in full force. “yeah. he’s known for a while now.”

lando’s gaze softens, and his thumb stills against your skin. “good,” he murmurs, voice low and steady. “because i don’t think i can hide this from anyone else for much longer.”

©⠀piastrisun original work. please don’t translate, claim or repost any of my writing, 25’.

[technitaur]

People who have this mindset will literally say "when you have kids, your own life is put on hold and everything you do from then on is for your kids." And then they'll wonder why people like me absolutely detest the idea of having kids.

I have way too much to do and explore and learn in my own life. I'm not about to give up 18+ years of that to someone else just for the sake of fulfilling some duty to society. If I ended up with a kid, that kid would be well aware that I want nothing to do with them and they would grow up supremely emotionally fucked up anyway.

I'm sure I would muster the willpower to care for them physically and all that, but I would absolutely hate every single second of it, and the kid would know it. I don't want to inflict that on a kid. I can barely tolerate walking a dog regularly, let alone taking care of a kid.

And I don't believe the claims of 'oh, you'll change your mind once the kid is born,' because look at how many neglected and abused kids there are in the world. If everyone magically changed when they had kids, the world would be a lot safer for kids.

The opinion that it's 'selfish' to not have kids is pretty laughable, too. The people who make this claim ought to put their money where their mouth is.

To anyone who's super pro-child and thinks that we childfree people are being selfish:

You shouldn't have your own biological children until the foster system is completely empty. If having kids truly is all about being selfless and creating a family and a better world, then go adopt a kid who needs parents.

Fill the void in an existing kid's life instead of filling your own void by selfishly insisting on having your own biological kid.

We shouldn't be pushing to bring a bunch of new kids into the world until the world proves that it can actually support the ones who already exist. And right now, it really feels like it can't.

The older generation's fixation on forcing you to have kids is something they absolutely refuse to unlearn. You can give the calmest and most reasonable explanation for not having kids and the only thing they can think to say is, "But what of the heir to the lands?" "Who will inherit the throne?" "Please sire upon your barren death there will be a parochial schism that will soak our soils with brother-blood." They literally hate to see you happy with just a cat.

[pucked-bunnie]

never have i ever ⎜l.hughes

pairings: luke hughes x reader genre: romance ⎜angst ⎜ college AU ⎜ warnings: mentions of a bet ⎜hurt/comfort ⎜ luke is a silly boy ⎜ none tbh ⎜ unsatisfying ending ⎜ synopsis: when his friends spot the new girl at the teams halloween party - luke agrees to a bet he know he shouldn't be making. word count: 7.6k authors note:  this was requested and ended up a little longer than anticipated! I hope everyone enjoys.

+

+

Luke had been watching you for an hour now. 

Not in a creepy way. 

He was just entranced by the way you weaved through the crowd - being welcomed into each group you passed as you say a bight hello to anyone who looks your way. Your bright yellow raincoat had caught his attention as soon as you walked through the door - shining like a beacon as you made you way straight for the house kitchen, carrying around that small bottle of water as you started to mingle. 

“Who you so enamoured by, Lukey?” A slightly slurred voice says as the body of his friend and teammate slides into his personal space - Ethan’s shoulder rubbing against his, their matching costumes a joke to anyone who looked over at them. 

“A Weather-Girl.” Luke says shortly, taking another sip from his half flat soda - nudging the hood off his costume off his head. 

“Weather-Girl?” Ethan repeats to himself skimming over the crowd trying to find the described person. “I don’t see a Weather-Girl.” 

Luke doesn’t elaborate, his eyes still fixed on you as Ethan follows his gaze.

“Ohhh,” Ethan drags out the word, spotting the unmistakable yellow coat bobbing near the living room couch. You’re laughing at something one of the senior players said, your head tilted back just enough to catch the low, golden glow of the decorative Halloween lights strung up around the room. “Weather-Girl, huh? That’s new.”

Luke just shrugs, feigning indifference. He doesn’t need Ethan making this more of a thing than it already feels in his head.

But Ethan being Ethan, the subtle hint of interest is like blood in the water. “You know, Lukey, I think we should introduce ourselves. Friendly team spirit and all that.” He’s already grinning like a devilish accomplice in a bad crime movie, and Luke knows nothing good can come of this.

“No.” Luke’s voice is flat, firm. But he doesn’t move to stop Ethan as he leans in conspiratorially.

“C’mon, what’s the harm? You’ve been staring for what, an hour? Two? Don’t be a coward.” Ethan’s smirk widens as he straightens up and crosses his arms. “Unless, of course, you’re willing to make things interesting.”

Luke sighs, already regretting whatever’s about to come out of his friend’s mouth. “What do you want, Ethan?” Luke’s gaze flickers back to Ethan, who’s watching him with the kind of grin that only spells trouble. It’s a setup, Luke knows it is, but he also knows Ethan won’t back down until he’s either embarrassed himself or dragged Luke into some ridiculous scheme. That’s just Ethan.

“You know,” Ethan starts again, his tone sly, “I think this is fate.”

Luke arches a brow. “What are you talking about?”

Ethan leans in, lowering his voice like they’re plotting something top-secret. “The new girl. Weather-Girl. I bet you couldn’t even get her to go out with you if you tried.”

Luke blinks, his head snapping back. “What?”

“You heard me,” Ethan continues, his grin widening. “She’s got this whole sunshine-and-rainbows vibe, and you’ve got… well, you’ve got ‘quiet, brooding hockey guy’ energy.”

“I wouldn’t really say quiet and brooding.” Luke says taking another sip of his drink, “more like quiet and anxious.” Ethan just shrugs as Lukes correction, watching you move with an equally appreciative look. 

“I mean it’s not like you’re her type anyway.” 

Luke glares at him. “And you’d know that how?”

“I’m observant,” Ethan says smugly. “Like I said, she’s sunshine-and-rainbows and you’re you. But hey, prove me wrong. I’m willing to make this interesting.”

Luke sighs. “I’m not playing your games, Ethan.”

“Not even if there’s something in it for you?” Ethan’s eyes gleam with mischief. “If you get her to go out with you and be the first one to say she has feelings—even just an I like you—I’ll do all your house chores for a month. Every single one.”

Luke hesitates. 

That’s… tempting. 

Too tempting. 

But then he shakes his head. “And if I don’t?”

Ethan leans back against the wall, crossing his arms with a smirk. “Then you buy dinner for the whole team after every practice. For a month.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“It’s fair,” Ethan counters. “Besides, you’ve been staring at her all night anyway. Might as well make it worth something.”

Luke doesn’t respond, but his jaw clenches. He knows this is a bad idea—knows Ethan is goading him on purpose. But then his eyes drift back to you, and he catches the way you’re laughing at something, the way you light up the space around you without even trying. It’s magnetic, and he hates that Ethan noticed too.

Before he can talk himself out of it, Luke mutters, “Fine.”

Ethan’s grin could rival the devil’s. “Fine, what?”

Luke glares. “Fine, I’ll do it.”

Ethan claps him on the shoulder. “Atta boy. Just don’t forget—one date. Real effort. No half-assing it, Lukey.” Luke mutters a curse under his breath and shakes Ethan off. The smugness radiating from his friend is almost enough to make him back out, but then he glances at you again. You’re standing by the couch, the yellow raincoat still draped over your shoulders, your head tilted as you listen to someone talking. There’s something about the way you seem so at ease, like the party could crumble around you and you’d just smile through it.

Taking a steadying breath, Luke squares his shoulders and heads your way. The closer he gets, the louder the sounds of the party become—music pounding, laughter ringing, snippets of conversation floating through the air. He rehearses a dozen opening lines in his head, but none of them stick.

When he’s just a few steps away, you look up, and your eyes meet his. For a moment, Luke forgets how to breathe. Your expression shifts, recognition flickering in your eyes as you offer him a small, curious smile.

“Hey,” you say, your voice cutting through the noise like it’s meant just for him. “You’re Luke, right? From the team?”

Luke nods, swallowing hard. “Yeah. That’s me.” Your smile widens, and you take a small step closer, tucking a strand of your blue wig behind your ear. 

“I thought so. I’ve heard a lot about you. Big hockey star and all.” Luke’s mouth feels dry, but he forces himself to speak. 

“Uh, yeah. Something like that.”

You laugh softly, and it’s the kind of sound that makes the whole room feel smaller, quieter, like it’s just the two of you. “So, what brings you over here, hockey star? Didn’t peg you as the mingling type.”

Luke rubs the back of his neck, cursing Ethan silently. “Just thought I’d say hi. You’re… new, right?”

“Guilty,” you say, holding up your hands in mock surrender. “Just transferred. My roommate dragged me here. Thought it’d be a good way to meet people.”

“And?” he asks, trying to keep his voice steady. “How’s that going?”

“Pretty good so far,” you say, your eyes sparkling. “Especially now that I’ve officially met Luke Hughes-the-hockey-star.” Luke chuckles nervously, and for the first time all night, he’s not thinking about anything other than right now. 

He’s thinking about you—how you look up at him like he’s the only one here, how your smile feels like sunlight breaking through clouds. Ethan’s words echo faintly in his mind, but Luke pushes them aside. He might have agreed to the bet, but right now, he’s not doing this for Ethan.

He’s doing this for you — well for him but what’s the difference.

“So what’re you?” Luke asks, gesturing down at your costume. “I’m guessing a weather girl.” He says with a soft smile, your eyes glittering as you shake your head. 

“I’m Coraline - you know the terrifying kids movie?” The costume makes so much more sense now - your bright yellow raincoat, the gumboots and the button sunglasses propped on the top of your head. 

“Nope, never seen it.” Luke lies, his neck flaming red as your mouth falls open, your eyebrows lifting. “Maybe you should show it to me sometime.” Luke gets out quickly, his heart slamming against his ribs as a knowing smile grows on your face. 

Your grin is equal parts amusement and challenge. “Oh, I absolutely will. You’re missing out. It’s iconic.”

Luke’s stomach twists, but not in the usual anxious way—it’s something lighter, almost hopeful. “I’ll hold you to that,” he says, surprising even himself with how steady his voice sounds.

You tilt your head, studying him with a curious expression, and for a second, Luke wonders if you can see right through him, if you can tell that his hands are clammy, or that he’s replaying every word of this conversation in his head to make sure he hasn’t completely embarrassed himself.

“Deal,” you say finally, extending a hand like it’s an official agreement. Luke hesitates only for a heartbeat before taking it. Your hand is warm and soft, and he hopes you don’t notice the way his lingers just a little too long before letting go.

“So, Coraline,” he says, grasping for something to keep the conversation going, “are you into horror movies? Or is this just a one-time thing?”

You laugh again, a bright, genuine sound that makes his chest feel tight. “I like them when they’re creepy but not too gory. Psychological stuff, you know? Keeps you on your toes.” You pause, eyes glinting playfully. “Why? Are you scared of scary movies, hockey star?”

Luke shakes his head, though the truth is closer to yes. “Not scared. Just... prefer movies where I don’t have to watch an episode of SpongeBob after to sleep.” Your laughter this time is louder, drawing a few glances from people nearby, but you don’t seem to care. 

“Fair enough. I’ll make sure to ease you into it.”

Luke nods, pretending to weigh his options. “I guess I can handle that.”

“You’d better,” you tease. “I don’t usually offer private screenings, you know.” Luke’s cheeks heat, and he hopes the dim lighting hides it. 

“I’ll try not to ruin it with my... quiet, brooding energy,” he says, quoting Ethan with a faint smirk. Your brows lift, and there’s a flicker of recognition in your eyes. 

“Quiet and brooding? That doesn’t sound like you. Quiet - maybe, brooding - no way. ” Luke huffs a laugh, rubbing the back of his neck.  Before he can think of a response, someone calls your name from across the room. You glance over your shoulder, and Luke follows your gaze to see a girl waving at you, her phone in hand. 

“That’s my roommate,” you say, turning back to him. “She’s probably wondering if I’m still alive.”

“Don’t let me keep you,” Luke says quickly, though part of him wants to. “It was nice talking to you.”

“You too, Luke.” You hesitate for a moment, then smile again, softer this time. “See you around?”

“Definitely,” he manages, watching as you make your way across the room. As soon as you’re out of earshot, Ethan materialises at his side, looking far too pleased with himself.

 “So, how’d it go?” Luke glares at him, though there’s no heat behind it. 

“You’re insufferable.”

Ethan just grins. “Good then?” He claps Luke on the back and saunters off, leaving Luke to process what just happened. He takes another sip of his now-warm soda, his mind replaying the way your smile seemed to light up the room, the way you said his name like it was already familiar. For the first time all night, the noise and chaos of the party don’t feel overwhelming. 

Because for just a few minutes, you made everything else fade away.

Until his head shoots in your direction - he never got your number. 

+

+

“You’re really gonna stick up posters to try and find her?” Ethan questions as he looks over Luke’s shoulder at the posters his teammate was currently printing out. 

“I have no other option, how else am I going to find her?” Luke hisses back, collecting each poster as it’s spit out of the machine. 

“What kind of idiot forgets to get their number.” Ethan chuckles to himself, throwing his hands up in defence as Luke shoots him a sharp glare. 

“I was distracted.” Luke clarifies. 

“Maybe she didn’t actually like you, she didn’t seem to be trying hard to make sure you got her number.” Ethan hints as Luke tucks his posters in his bag, throwing it over his shoulder before trudging out of the library not waiting to see if Ethan was following behind him. 

Ethan’s words replayed in his mind as the shorter man catches up the two of them making their way to the morning practice. 

Maybe she didn’t actually like you. 

It stung, even though Luke wasn’t sure if it was true. Maybe she had just been polite, humouring him with that radiant smile that had practically seared itself into his memory. Or maybe she really did want to see him again but figured he’d be the one to bridge the gap.

Except he hadn’t.

He’d blown it.

Luke glances down at the one loose flyer in his hand, the bold block letters read:

 Looking for Coraline (or the girl in the yellow raincoat) at the hockey teams halloween party. You left an impression. Let’s finish the conversation. - Luke Hughes (the hockey star) 

Luke had concerningly been willing to attach his own phone number, knowing that in the end this might spell disaster but he couldn’t think of any other way.  Ethan peered at the flyer and let out a low whistle. “Wow. Really laying it all out there, huh?”

“Shut up, Ethan,” Luke muttered, his ears burning. He started toward the cork-board near the vending machines, where countless other notices, ads, and lost-item flyers were pinned. The board wasn’t exactly the romantic reunion he’d hoped for, but it was a start.

As he tacked up the first flyer, Ethan leaned against the machine, chuckling to himself. “You know, you’re making this way harder than it needs to be. Just ask around. Someone’s bound to know her.”

“That’s not the point,” Luke shot back. “I’m not going to embarrass her by asking the whole world if they know who she is.”

“But flyers are subtle?” Ethan teased, folding his arms and smirking. “You’re like a lost puppy, man.” Luke holds the poster up to the board, looking around for a free pin as he feels Ethan tap his shoulder lightly. 

“Dude look.” 

“Ethan I’m a bit busy can you knock it off.” Luke hisses as he tries to shake off Ethan’s hand but his friend was unrelenting continuing to tap on his shoulder until Luke couldn’t take it anymore, smacking at his friends hand turning away from the cork board. 

“Hey Luke.” Your voice was like music to his ears. His hand quickly tucking the poster behind his back as his mouth falls open in surprise. “Someone said I might be able to find you here.” You laugh, Luke taking you in like he did at the party. 

You were still as stunning as he remembers, your cheeks flushed slightly from the cold of the hockey rink, your coat buttoned all the way up your neck and your ears tucked under a beanie. You worse glasses this time, the large brown frames sitting high on your cheeks. 

“Oh my god she’s a secret nerd.” Ethan whispers letting out a heavy ‘oof’ as Luke shoves him away, “Shut the fuck up.” Luke says through gritted teeth before stepping towards you, a lazy grin spreading on his face. 

“You never got my number.” You say softly.

“Yeah,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck, “I kinda noticed that... after the fact.” You laugh — soft, warm, like the first sign of spring after a long winter.  Luke glances down at the crumpled flyer behind his back, then at Ethan, who’s clearly struggling to contain his laughter.

“He found a creative solution,” Ethan says, grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

Your eyes flick to the paper in Luke’s hand  and then back to Luke’s face in surprise. “Flyers?” Luke winces, pulling the paper out from behind him and holding it up sheepishly. 

“Yeah. I, uh… wasn’t sure how else to find you. I thought maybe you’d see one.” For a moment, you just stare at him, your expression unreadable. Then, slowly, a smile tugs at your lips.

“You’re kind of a dork, aren’t you?”

Ethan snorts. “Oh, you have no idea.”

Luke glares at him. “Don’t you have somewhere else to be, Ethan?”

“Not really.” Ethan shrugs, but when Luke’s glare sharpens, he throws his hands up. “Fine, fine. I’ll leave you two lovebirds to it.” He backs away, shooting you a wink as he goes. “Don’t be too hard on him, Coraline.” As soon as he’s gone, Luke turns back to you, his nerves creeping back in.

“I, uh… didn’t mean to make it weird,” he says quickly. “I just thought you were—well, I mean, are—really cool, and I wanted to keep talking to you. But I totally get if this is too much, and—”

“Luke.” You cut him off gently, stepping closer, your boots making soft taps against the tiled floor. “It’s not weird.”

“It’s not?”

“No.” You smile up at him, your eyes crinkling at the corners. “It’s kind of sweet, actually.” Luke’s heart stumbles over itself, and he tries to play it cool, even though he’s sure his face is giving him away.

“So… can I get your number now?” he asks, his voice quieter, more vulnerable. You reach into your pocket, pulling out your phone and unlocking it before handing it to him. 

“I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.” Luke takes it, his fingers brushing against yours briefly — just enough to send a spark through his chest. As he types in his number, he can’t help but smile to himself.

When he hands your phone back, you glance at the screen and grin.

“Luke Hughes, hockey star,” you read out loud, teasing. Luke groans, his cheeks burning.

You laugh again, sliding your phone back into your pocket. “So… when’s this Coraline screening happening?”

“Whenever you want.”

“Good.” You tilt your head, studying him with that same curious expression from the party. “Because I wasn’t kidding — you really need to see it.”

Luke chuckles, his nerves finally settling. “I guess I’ve got some things to come clean about?”

“You have watched Coraline, haven’t you?” There’s a pause — not awkward, but filled with something unspoken. Luke just nods his head, surprised when your smile grows. 

“Good, then we can go for something a little scarier.” 

“Scarier then Coraline, doesn’t exist.” Luke jokes, letting out a breath of laughter as you join, quickly glancing toward the rink doors more of Luke’s teammates filing through the doors.

Luke shifts awkwardly on his feet, watching you carefully as you tuck your phone back into your pocket. His heart is pounding louder than the distant thuds of sticks on ice from the rink nearby. He can’t believe you’re standing here in front of him — smiling at him like you’d been hoping to run into him, too.

You’re still here. 

You came looking for him.

“Do you have practice now?” you ask again, glancing at the double doors that lead to the rink.

Luke nods. “Yeah, just drills.” He rubs the back of his neck. “Shouldn’t take long.”

You tilt your head, considering something. “And after practice?”

Luke blinks, caught off guard by the question. “Uh… nothing planned. Why?”

A grin tugs at your lips, and you glance down for a second before looking back up at him, your gaze steady but playful. “I was thinking maybe we don’t have to wait too long for that movie watch.”

Luke’s heart skips a beat. “You mean tonight?”

“Unless you’re too busy, hockey star.”

He laughs softly, shaking his head. “Nope. Not busy. Definitely not busy.” You smile, the kind that makes Luke feel like the luckiest guy in the room — maybe the whole world.

“Good,” you say, taking a step closer. “Because I’d hate for you to back out after going through all the trouble of printing out those flyers.”

Luke groans, his face flushing again. “I’m never going to live that down, am I?”

“Not a chance,” you tease, your eyes sparkling.

Luke ducks his head, a shy smile tugging at his lips. When he looks back up, there’s a quiet determination in his gaze. “So… movie night?”

“Movie night,” you confirm. “My place?”

Luke blinks, surprised. “Yeah, sure. I mean, if that’s cool with you.”

“Definitely cool with me.” You pull your phone out again and hand it to him. “I’ll send you a text with my address.”

Luke watches you, his heart thudding faster as you step back. “So, tonight?”

“Tonight,” you agree, pulling your coat tighter around you. “Say… seven?”

“I’ll be there.” You give him one last lingering look before turning toward the door. Just as you reach it, you glance over your shoulder with a playful smile. 

“Don’t be late, Hughes. I’ll be waiting.” Luke stands there for a moment, frozen in place, replaying the whole interaction in his head like a highlight reel. He barely registers Ethan stepping back into view, his expression smug as ever.

“Well, look at you,” Ethan says, clapping Luke on the shoulder. “Got yourself a date, huh?”

Luke doesn’t even bother with a glare this time. Instead, he just shakes his head, a soft, disbelieving laugh escaping his lips. “Yeah,” he murmurs. “I guess I do.”

+

+

Luke finds himself standing outside your door, holding a small bag of snacks and feeling more nervous than he’s ever been before a big game. He’s replayed every possible conversation in his head, hoping he won’t make a fool of himself. The door swings open before he can knock, and there you are — standing there with a soft smile, dressed comfortably in a hoodie and leggings, your glasses perched on your nose.

“Hey,” you say, your voice warm and inviting.

“Hey.”

You step aside, motioning him in. “Come on in. I’ve got the movie queued up and everything.” Luke steps inside, taking in the cozy space — blankets piled on the couch, a bowl of popcorn on the coffee table, and the faint scent of something sweet lingering in the air.

“My roommate decided to give us some peace so she’s at her boyfriend’s place for the night.” You start slowly, before spinning around to face him, your hands thrown up in front of you. “Not that I’m expecting you to stay the night or anything.” Luke watches the way your face starts to burn, the tips of your ears a bright pink - a soft laugh leaving him as he nods. 

“No expectations.” Luke agrees, pulling out his snacks and placing them on what he’s assuming in your bed. “So what are we watching?” 

“I was thinking we should do a modern classic - have you seen any of the Jordan peele movies?” You question, busying yourself with laying out the food on the bed. 

“No, my brothers aren’t big movie watchers so I never got the chance.” Luke says quickly, hovering awkwardly besides you as he waits for you to settle on the bed. He watches as you hoist yourself up, swishing yourself against the wall before patting the empty space besides you. 

“Well you’re in for a treat.” You smile, throat bobbing as Luke climbs onto the bed besides you, his broad frame taking up most of the bed, his feet almost hitting the end. You had made the effort of setting up the projector your sister had gotten you before you went to college, the stupid machine notoriously hard to set up but it was worth it to not have to watch the movie on your tiny laptop screen. 

“Can you turn off the lights, horror movies only work if it’s dark.” You say quietly, pointing to the lamp switch besides Luke, who reaches without having to hand off the bed like you normally do, the room shrouded in darkness as you press play on your phone connected to the projector. “Be prepared of the best psychological horror of the past ten years.” You tease, settling against your cushions as you reach forwards to grab the bowl of popcorn. 

As the opening credits roll, Luke glances over at you. You’re focused on the screen, but there’s a small, satisfied smile playing on your lips. He knows that he’s here because of a silly bet, but right now, none of that matters. What matters is this moment. You, beside him. The warmth of your presence chasing away the cold outside. The way your laughter fills the room when you catch him flinching at a particularly eerie scene.

Luke has to admit that though the movie was very entertaining he couldn’t help but look away from the projector - his eyes one the side of your face almost the entire time, watching every tiny reaction you had. His gaze only flicking back to the screen as the movie comes to it’s crescendo your eyes briefly flicking over to him, a smile growing on your face as he panics and looks away as your eyes meet. 

“Good movie, huh.” Luke says as he stretches his arms above his head, the credits playing as you let out a snort of laughter. 

“You were certainly enamoured.” 

“Sorry.” Luke sighs, his shoulders folding in on himself, the hockey player somehow shrinking to half the size he was before. “You’re just really pretty.” He admits, scolding himself in his head for his confession, the words slipping out before he even got a chance to stop them. “And now I sound like a ten year old boy telling the girl at the playground that he has a crush.” Luke laughs, rubbing the back of his neck as more words slip out. 

You blink, processing Luke's words, your heart skipping a beat as the playful smirk on your lips softens into something more genuine.

"Really?" you ask, voice quieter now, almost hesitant, as if you're afraid to break the fragile moment hanging between you.

Luke nods, his gaze darting to the floor before meeting your eyes again.

"Yeah. I mean, it's not just that you're pretty. You're... more than that. Smart, funny, kind. Being around you feels—I don't know—easy. Comfortable. Even when I'm panicking inside, like right now." He chuckles nervously, his hand rubbing the back of his neck again. "And I know I'm probably making this awkward."

You shake your head quickly.

"You're not," you whisper, your voice steady despite the butterflies fluttering wildly in your chest. Luke watches you carefully, his eyes searching yours for any sign that he's misstepped, but all he finds is warmth and something that makes his breath catch in his throat—hope.

“You’re almost falling off the bed.”  you say softly, shifting a little on the bed to make more space. Your hand reaches out, fingertips brushing against his arm in a way that feels both tentative and electric.

Luke hesitates for a moment before scooting closer. The bed dips under his weight, and suddenly the space between you feels almost nonexistent. His knee bumps against yours, and he can't help the shy smile that tugs at his lips when he hears your quiet giggle in response.

Your fingers linger on his arm, tracing a light pattern along the sleeve of his hoodie before curling around his wrist. The movie’s end credits roll on in the background, forgotten, as the room’s only source of light comes from the soft glow of the projector casting faint shadows on the walls.

"I've been watching you too," you confess, your voice barely above a whisper. "During the movie. I thought you didn’t notice."

Luke lets out a soft laugh.

"I didn’t” he murmurs.  There’s a pause—a moment of quiet, charged with unspoken words and shared breaths. His gaze drops to your lips, just for a second, before flicking back up to your eyes. You catch the movement, your heart thudding louder in your chest.

"Luke..." you start, but whatever you were about to say gets lost as he leans in, slowly, giving you plenty of time to pull away if you wanted to. But you don’t. You close the remaining distance, your lips meeting his in a kiss that feels both inevitable and surreal. His hand finds your cheek, thumb brushing gently along your jawline as he deepens the kiss, his touch careful, as if he’s afraid to break the moment.

Your hands slide up to his shoulders, fingers curling into the fabric of his hoodie as you pull him closer. The scent of him—clean, with a hint of something woodsy—fills your senses, grounding you in the reality of this moment.  When you finally pull back, both of you are breathless, foreheads resting against each other as you share a quiet, contented laugh.

The kiss was sweet. Innocent, but left Luke’s chest buzzing as he left your dorm, sneaking past the RA’s room with you, the two of you pausing at the front door as you lift yourself onto your tippy toes placing a soft kiss to his cheek. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” Luke asks softly, your head nodding as you promise to meet him at the cafe near the hockey rink. 

“Luke?” You call out as he makes his way down the steps, his body turning back towards you as you whisper, “I really like you.” The words make Luke’s heart drop to his stomach. 

The stupid bet. 

But no one heard it right? 

And surely Ethan wouldn’t hold him to it? 

Luke rushes back up the steps, his hands gripping your hoodie at your waist as he pulls you towards him, leaning down and capturing your lips with his own, the two of you lost in each other for a moment before he pulls away, whispering back “I really like you too.” Luke releases you, your lips tingling as you watch him dart down the steps, bolting from sight as his cheeks flush a bright red. 

+

+

“You going to invite her to the party?” Ethan questions, his eyebrows raised as Luke glances up from his coffee. 

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I?” 

“This thing is getting kinda of serious isn’t it?” Ethan asks, his eyebrows furrowed as he looks down at his friend taking the lid of his drink to pour an excessive amount of sugar in the hot coffee. “I didn’t picture you as a dating kind of guy.” He adds, Luke just shrugging his shoulders as he straightens ups, placing the lid back on his drink before taking a long sip. 

“I’m not usually, but she’s something special.” Luke sighs, “I like her and I think she likes me too.” He adds noticing the way Ethan’s smile grows. 

“So you’re going to tell her, or are you waiting till you win the bet?” Ethan teases, his eyes catching the way Luke flinches slightly, a shocked expression transforming his features. “There’s something you aren’t telling me.” Ethan coos.  Luke’s jaw tightens, his mind racing. The warmth from the night before—the laughter, the kiss, the way you’d whispered that you really liked him—all of it feels fragile now, like it could shatter at any moment.

“There’s nothing to tell,” Luke repeats, his voice firmer this time. He doesn’t meet Ethan’s gaze, focusing instead on the swirl of steam rising from his coffee cup.

“Come on, man,” Ethan presses, leaning forward on the table. “We made that bet months ago. You were supposed to ask her out, take her on a couple of dates, and then call it quits. It was just supposed to be a joke—a way to get you out of your shell. But now? Now it’s looking a little more serious than that.”

“It is serious.” Luke’s voice is low, but there’s no mistaking the conviction in his tone. “I like her. A lot. And I’m not going to let some stupid bet ruin that.”

Ethan leans back, crossing his arms. “So, what’s your plan? Pretend it never happened? Hope she never finds out?”

Luke runs a hand through his hair, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. “I don’t know. I just… I don’t want to hurt her.”

“Then maybe you should tell her before someone else does.” Ethan’s words hang heavy in the air, the weight of the truth pressing down on Luke’s chest.

“I will.” Luke agrees, “Tonight at the party, I’ll tell her everything so just keep your mouth shut.” Ethan nods throwing his hands up in agreement as the both slip past a smaller figure holding the door open, a black oversized hoodie thrown up and over their head, Luke nods in thanks to the person, continuing his argument with Ethan as the continue on their way. 

The message dings on your phone as you wait for your coffee, your black hood now pooling around your neck as you let out a long sigh. 

Luke Hughes (hockey star) : I was wondering if you wanted to come to a party with me tonight - it’s at the frat house next to the rink? I can pick you up from your dorm?

Weather - Girl ☂️: I don’t know… I’ll just meet you there? 

Luke Hughes (hockey star): Ok. See you at 7.

You tuck your phone back into your pocket as you step forwards to grab your drink from the counter. 

A bet? 

Of course that’s why Luke had approached you that night. 

Someone like him would never go out with someone like you. 

+

+

You arrive at the frat house just as the sun begins to set, the amber glow of the evening stretching across the sky. The music blares from inside, the bass vibrating through the walls as you hesitate at the door, your hand resting on the knob. You’d never been a fan of parties—too loud, too chaotic. But tonight, everything felt different. It wasn’t just about the party. It was about Luke. The way he’d asked you to come, the way he’d kissed you like he meant it... and now, this lingering doubt.

A deep breath. You turn the handle and step inside.

The scene is exactly what you'd expected—college students scattered across the living room and kitchen, cups in hand, the occasional burst of laughter, music spilling into the air. You scan the crowd, trying to pick out familiar faces, until your eyes land on him. Luke’s standing by the pool table, talking with a couple of teammates, his eyes scanning the room every so often. He’s dressed casually, but he still looks effortlessly handsome. The tight fit of his shirt accentuates his broad shoulders, and his dark hair is slightly tousled, like he’s been running his hands through it all day. Your stomach tightens at the sight of him, and for a moment, all the noise around you fades. It’s just Luke, and it’s just the two of you, the weight of everything unsaid hanging between you.

He notices you then, his expression shifting as his eyes lock onto yours. His lips curl into a small, tentative smile. And for a moment, you wonder if maybe this is all worth it. Maybe he really does care. But then the nagging thought about the bet creeps back in, like a shadow in the corner of your mind. Luke steps away from the table, pushing through the crowd of people as he approaches you. His smile widens, but you can see the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes as he gets closer.

“Hey,” he greets you softly, his voice a little too calm. He’s studying you, trying to read your mood.

“Hey,” you respond, your voice a little tight. You force a smile, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes.

“I’m glad you made it,” Luke says, his gaze dropping to your hand before meeting your eyes again. “You okay? You look... tense.”

You hesitate, debating whether to tell him how you’re feeling. How everything seems off. But you don’t. You don’t want to seem like you’re overthinking things, especially not in front of everyone. Instead, you just nod.

“I’m fine. Just, you know, not really a party person,” you admit with a half-laugh, trying to make light of it. “But it’s... nice.”

Luke chuckles, his hand brushing against yours as he gestures toward the side of the room. “Want to grab a drink? I can introduce you to a few people if you want.”

You hesitate, your heart hammering in your chest. What are you really doing here? Was this all part of the game to him? Or was he genuinely trying to make you feel comfortable?

Before you can answer, a voice calls from across the room—Ethan, Luke’s friend, who’s standing with a few of his teammates, his eyes narrowing as he looks at the two of you.

“Luke! Come on, man. Get over here!” Ethan calls, clearly in the middle of some kind of banter. “We’re going to play a game, the cute girl besides you can join in too.” Luke glances over his shoulder, then looks back at you. His smile falters slightly before he gives you an apologetic look.

“Only if you want to” he says, turning away from his friends to focus completely on you, your head nods before you can think about it Luke lacing his fingers through your before walking toward Ethan and the others. 

“Thank you for joining us, weather-girl.” Ethan coos as you and Luke reach the group, a bunch of people huddled in a tight circle at the back of the house. “We’re playing never have I ever, know how to play?” You nod again, watching as Ethan clears a spot for you and Luke to join the circle, the two of you squishing between some other players from the team - Ethan quickly handing you both a red solo cup full of beer.

“I’ll go first.” Ethan cheers, “Never have I ever kissed a boy” The girls of the group chuckling amongst themselves before taking a drink, you cup raising to your lips as you take a slow sip as well the round continuing as each player having a turn in saying something they have never done. 

The circle all turn towards Luke as the person besides him finished their turn, “Never have I ever regretted asking out a pretty girl.” He says with a beaming smile, watching as Ethan groans before taking a sip of his drink shouting across the room. 

“That was a lame one.” Ethan turns towards you next with anticipation, your throat clearing as you say, “Never have I ever made a bet with my friend to ask a girl out.” The group falls silent as they all look at you, Ethan’s gaze flicking between you and Luke with a grimace, Luke gaze dropping to you in surprise as you look up at him expectedly, hoping to any higher power that he wouldn’t take a sip of his drink. 

“I can explain.” Luke whispers, recoiling a little as you let out a harsh scoff, lifting yourself from you spot on the floor in a hurry. 

“I think I’m done playing.” You hiss, pushing your way through the crowd as you bolt for the front door, ignoring the sound of Luke calling after you - letting out a shaky breath as the fresh autumn air hits your face. 

“I swear I can explain.” Luke says as he comes up behind you. 

“So I really was just a bet? What is this some fucking wattpad fanfic.” You let out a bitter laugh as you push your hair off your face. 

“Yes...well no…kind of.” Luke sighs, not knowing how to answer your question.

“What did you even bet anyway.” 

“Ethan said he’d do my chores for a month if I got you to go on a date and say you liked me first.” 

“You tricked me because of chores.” You scoff, “Was it worth it?” 

“Yes.” You let out a shocked laugh at his response, taking a few steps away from him as you throw your hands up in defeat. “It was worth it cause it meant I got to talk to you.” Luke takes a deep breath as he looks back to the party before taking a few steps towards you.  “The whole stupid thing was worth it cause it mean I actually got to meet you, instead of just staring at you from across the room, and things moved a little faster then I was anticipating but I’m not mad that it happened.” 

You blink at him, the words settling over you in a wave. You want to be angry, want to shout at him for making you feel like a game piece in some dumb bet. But as you look at Luke, there’s something raw in his expression, something that makes you hesitate. His eyes are sincere, even if the situation couldn’t be further from what you’d imagined.

“Are you telling me you really liked me? Even before this… game?” You ask, your voice coming out more fragile than you intend. Luke’s jaw tightens, and for a moment, he looks unsure. Then he steps closer, the distance between you growing smaller with each second, the warmth of his body making you feel suddenly aware of how cold the night air is.

“I know how it sounds, and I don’t expect you to just forgive me because I’m telling you this now,” he says, his voice rough, like he’s been carrying the weight of it all for longer than he should. “I spent an hour watching you at the party that night, but I just couldn’t work up the courage to go over and talk to you and when Ethan made that bet, I saw it as a stupid way to break the ice—get us talking. And yeah, I should have told you everything upfront, but I didn’t. I messed up. I’m sorry.” The confession hangs in the air, a delicate thing between you. You feel the heat from his words, but your heart is still tangled in the doubt. He’s here, standing right in front of you, apologising. 

“I don’t know, Luke.” You shake your head, trying to process everything. “This whole thing just feels… wrong. Like I was some pawn in a game that didn’t even matter. And now you’re telling me that it did? That you really wanted to get to know me?” Luke nods, his gaze unwavering. 

“Yes. It matters. You matter. And I know it sounds like a bad excuse, but I’ve never done something like this before. I wasn’t thinking about how you’d feel, I was thinking about how I felt—and I was being selfish. I should’ve respected you more than that.” The wind picks up, tugging at your hair, and you shiver, more from the tension building between you than the cold. You don’t know what you’re supposed to say to all of this. Part of you wants to run. Part of you wants to let it go, to believe him, to give him a chance. 

You cross your arms, staring at the ground, trying to make sense of everything. The weight of the night presses on you, every sound from inside the house now distant, muffled. “I don’t know if I can just forgive you like that, Luke.”

“I’m not asking you to forgive me right away.” he says, his voice softening. You meet his eyes then, something in the way he says it making your heart race again. 

“Then what are you asking for, Luke?” You whisper, the question heavy with every word.

“I don’t know.” He says softly, his eyes dropping to the floor for a moment, before flicking back to you.  “I’m not asking for anything, I just want you to know that even if the only reason I worked up the courage to talk to you was because of the bet, it doesn’t mean that anything else had anything to do with it. I do really like you and if you want me to back off I will but I really, really don’t want to.”  Your stern expression falters a little at Luke words, your brain battling to keep your icy exterior up. 

“Please, I’ll do anything for one more chance.” Luke pleads, his hands reaching out for you before quickly dropping back to his sides. You watch as he fights with himself in his own head, trying to decide whether to pass the invisible border you had put between the two of you. 

“How about we make our own bet?” You say softly, not missing the way Luke’s eyebrows raise in surprise. “You get one date to prove that none of this was fake if you can manage that then maybe you’ll get a second one.” You say Luke’s head already nodding before you even finish your sentence. 

“And if I don’t manage to prove it?’ He asks softly. 

“Then you do all my errands for a month.” You answer finally cracking a soft smile, Lukes body visibly relaxing at your words, the joke clearing something as he takes a few steps forwards his arms wrapping around you and lifting you from the ground before you even get a chance to protest. 

“I promise I’ll prove that the bet had nothing to do with anything, and I’ll do all your errands for the rest of the year.” Luke coos, his heart throbbing in his chest as you let out the sweetest laugh, the one that makes his legs turn to jelly as he gently sets you back on the ground. 

“I think I can make that work.” You smile, the doubt remaining in your chest as Luke keeps his arms around you, a part of him needing to keep you wrapped up in his arm to truly believe that this was real. 

[lacydollette]

Lol, this is from my own current personal angst in my life but I was thinking it can be used for an angsty Rafe x Reader. I have very low self esteem, I don't think I look pretty so I have a hard time accepting that a guy could be interest in me or find me appealing, especially cuz guys have called ''mid''. Right now I'm talking to THE sweetest guy. THE most greenest flag of all. Super respectful, mature and kind. I had a freakout and pushed him away, wanted to stop talking. He got super upset, send me a drunk text basically being like ''I'm so attracted to u and your everything I've ever dreamt of. I just wanna make you happy and make you smile. Your so special to me. I keep saying that your beautiful, amazing and gorgeous but you won't hear it. Please don't let your insecurites get in the way of us. I fkn miss you'' I mean...hey feel free to take whatever inspiration you want from that, change it, build on it, whatever you want! We just want a sappy head over heels Rafe who is heartbroken being pushed away (but with a happy ending)

a/n tysm for sharing this with me! and please don’t let your doubts get in the way of your happiness. you are BEAUTIFUL and you MATTER ❤️‍🩹 i hope u like this little piece.

warnings rafe cameron x fem!reader, reader with low self esteem, situationship, angst, fluff, rafe being a sweetheart

Rafe couldn’t really tell when it started, but he could feel it in your forced smiles and short responses. He tried to convince himself it was nothing, but the ache in his chest told him otherwise. Every attempt to figure out what he had done wrong was met with your dismissive shrug and a short, “I’m fine.”

But what Rafe didn’t know about was the chaos in your mind. You liked him—really liked him—but your insecurities were keeping you from letting yourself fall completely. You couldn’t ignore the way girls seemed to flirt with Rafe at parties, the way people whispered that you weren’t pretty or cool enough, to be with someone like him. It didn’t matter how many times he told you that you were beautiful—the doubt in your mind drowned out his words. So, you began to pull away, convinced it was only a matter of time before he realized you weren’t what he wanted.

And that’s why Rafe ended up going to this party alone, although it should have been a night that you two spend together. You had promised to go, only to back out at the last minute with a stupid excuse about not feeling well. Rafe knew you were lying. Obviously he didn’t want to go without you, but after Topper wouldn’t stop begging him, he gave in.

He spent the first hour trying to lose himself in the crowd, nursing a beer and pretending to laugh at Topper’s jokes, but it was useless. Every girl who tried to flirt with him only reminded him of you, and every drink made the knot in his chest tighten. Eventually, he escaped out into the yard, needing space to think—or maybe just to breathe.

The cool night air sobered him slightly, but not enough to stop him from pulling out his phone. His fingers hovered over your contact before he finally hit call. It rang three times before you picked up.

“Rafe?” You said softly, voice trembling slightly. You winced at how vulnerable you sounded.

“hi, baby.” he said, his voice breaking slightly before going right in. “What’s going on with you? Please, just tell me. Did I do something? Did I hurt you somehow? Because if I did, fuck I swear to God, I didn’t mean to.”

Your throat tightened, guilt twisting in your stomach. He sounded so desperate, so unlike the confident, self-assured Rafe you knew. You didn't know what to say, how to explain something you couldn't even fully understand yourself.

“Talk to me, y/n,” he pleaded. “I can’t do this anymore. I can’t keep guessing what’s wrong. I care about you too much to lose you like this.” His voice cracked, and he raked a hand through his hair, his frustration spilling over. “I’m completely crazy about you. I don’t care about anyone else. You’re it for me. You’re the only one I want.”

Your heart shattered at his words. He cared about you, really cared about you. But how could he? How could someone like Rafe Cameron, with his perfect smile and effortless charm, care about someone like you?

"Rafe..." you whispered, unsure of what to say. “No,” he interrupted. “You have no idea how much you mean to me. I think about you all the time—when I wake up, when I go to sleep. You’re all I want, y/n. And if there’s even a part of you that feels the same way—then please, stop pushing me away.”

The silence that followed was unbearable. Rafe leaned against a tree, his heart pounding so loudly it drowned out everything else. Then he heard you breathe out, followed by muffled sobs, which you tried so hard to suppress by pressing your palm over your mouth. You wanted to believe him, wanted to let his words sink in and erase all your doubts. But the fear was still there.

“I didn’t think I was enough for you,” you finally whispered, voice trembling. “You could have anyone, Rafe. And people keep saying I don’t deserve you, and maybe they’re right.”

“Are you kidding me?” he said, his voice rising as he couldn’t believe that you’d actually think that. “Baby, you’re more than enough. You’re everything. Don’t let what other people say get in your head. They don’t know you. They don’t know us.”

Your sniffle came through the line, and he could picture you wiping your tears, head bowed like it always was when you were upset. “I just… I didn’t want to hold you back.”

“You’re not holding me back,” he replied softly. “You’re the only thing keeping me sane.” He paused. “Please, just let me in. Let me prove to you how much you mean to me.”

The sincerity in his voice was undeniable, and you believed him. Believed that he was serious about you two. “Okay.” You said. Relief washed over him, and he exhaled shakily. “Okay,” he repeated, his lips curving into a smile. “I’m coming to you right now.”

Your eyes widened, “No, Rafe, you don’t have to—”

“I want to,” he said firmly. “Stay where you are. I’m coming to you. We’ll figure this out together.” And with that, he ended the call, his heart pounding with determination. He didn’t care what anyone else thought. You were his, and he wasn’t going to let you go.

[alittlebitofloveliness]

Darry does not parent anyone in the gang except Ponyboy. No, not even Soda, and definitely not Johnny or Dally.

I’m going to be honest and say I genuinely don’t understand where the idea of Darry being the ‘dad’ of the group, or some kind of father figure to Dallas or johnny of all people comes from, because it’s so explicit in the novel and even the movie that he isn’t (I haven’t seen the musical but from what I understand there's some sort of rivalry between Dallas and Darry there, so there probably isn’t any paternal dynamic there either). To claim Darry is a father figure to ANYBODY- even Ponyboy- is completely antithetical to his character. Darry is twenty years old. He’s a big guy, who has respect from most greasers, and he is the LEADER of the gang, looks out for all of them the way a brother would, but he does not PARENT any of them.

Even after the Curtis parents’ deaths, when he gets guardianship of both Ponyboy and Soda, the only one he actually attempts to parent is Ponyboy- and he clearly struggles with it. It’s not just the main source of tension between him and Ponyboy,  it’s the ONLY source of it. Canonically, Pony and Darry got along fine before the Curtis parents' deaths, were close even, because Darry is good at being an older brother. He always has been, because he is used to it and it doesn’t carry nearly the same level of responsibility as guardianship does. Darry never had to be a parent before, let alone to his brother, and he’s flying blind trying to figure it out. He doesn’t know what limits to impose that seem fair but not stifling, can provide materially but doesn’t know how to provide emotionally, because he’s a new parent who is struggling to raise a teenager instead of a newborn, and has no experience for what he’s doing. Darrel Curtis is DROWNING trying to figure out what being a parent means when he has only ever looked at Pony as a little brother instead of a dependent. He’s not happy. He’d never give his brothers up, but this new role is killing him, and it’s plain for anyone to see. 

This brings me to my next point: Darry is so overwhelmed trying to parent Ponyboy, it never even crosses his mind to try parenting Soda too. This isn’t even my interpretation- it’s textual. Soda doesn’t get hollered at, Darry doesn’t really care where he goes or what he does, and he never punishes him the way he punishes Ponyboy. It doesn’t help that Soda and Darry are closer in age than he and Ponyboy are. Soda is almost seventeen, he has a job and is street smart in a way Pony isn’t. Darry doesn’t have to worry about him as much so he doesn’t, because Soda could survive on his own if he had to, whereas Pony couldn’t. It would also be harder for Darry to discipline Soda if he wanted to, given Soda’s age and his agency, but again, Darry doesn’t want to. Soda doesn’t need raising, because he’s already been pretty raised, and Darry couldn’t handle raising him. Darry can already barely handle raising Ponyboy, and Soda has a tenuous role in the house as he plays confidante to both of them. Soda and Darry’s dynamic is pretty solid because their dynamic is still that of brothers, there’s been no upheaval in their relationship, and so there’s no major friction either. Besides that, there’s the fact that Soda is helping raise Ponyboy, not being raised himself. It’s a joke I’ve seen a few times that Darry plays ‘dad’ and Soda plays ‘mom’ to Ponyboy after the Curtis parents’ deaths, but there's an element of truth to it. Soda handles Pony’s emotional needs, gives him advice, reminds him he’s loved, where Darry provides discipline and material needs. Now, we see clearly in the novel this creates an unhealthy dynamic in the house and in Pony’s relationship with both his brothers, making him ‘hate’ Darry and idolize Soda, but it remains true nonetheless. Darry doesn’t know how to parent, so he follows the traditional social ‘script’ of what fatherhood meant in the sixties, and the rest of the household molded to fit the new Darry into the mold he cast himself in. But despite Darry’s best efforts and Soda’s help, Darry proves over and over he’s not good at parenting, and definitely isn’t filling the role of Pony’s parent let alone his father- and it all culminates with The Slap. 

Now, knowing this, having read the book and seen, even through Pony’s biased narration, that Darry’s attempts at parenting Pony are a bit of a dumpster fire, it’s plain to say Darry isn’t playing dad to anyone else in the gang. If he was he’d be harsher to them, strict with rules he’d expect them to follow (Darry does not like to be disobeyed and he definitely doesn’t like his authority challenged), and cognizant of their whereabouts at all times. He doesn’t do this with any of them though, because he ISN’T trying to parent any of them, and even if he was no one in the gang would let him. Steve is too self-sufficient, Johnny is too independent, and Dally is too Dally for it to ever happen- even if the small age gaps between the characters wouldn’t make the attempt almost comical. Darry is, only ever has been, and only ever will be, a brother to them. It means he can offer up the couch and share food and look out for them while they look out for him in return, without ever being responsible for them. Yes, Darry is superman, he’s the oldest of the gang, seen as dependable and protective. He’s the guy everyone goes to when they get in trouble, a symbol of safety, but not because he can fix things the way a parent would. Dally didn’t call Darry from the phonebooth as a scared kid looking for a parent’s comfort, he called him as a reckless kid looking for a brother’s help to hide his misdeeds. Johnny doesn’t crash on the Curtis’ couch as anything but a kid staying at his friends turned family’s house. He looks at Darry as someone protective, but not as a father figure. In fact, he probably sees better than anyone (except maybe Soda) that Darry isn’t a great guardian, having heard Ponyboy’s rants and seen firsthand how the dynamic in the house has shifted. 

Darry Curtis is everyone’s brother, but no one’s father. He never will be. The only person he ever attempts to parent is Ponyboy, and he’s not good at it. That’s the whole point. Darrel Curtis is a dependable guy, a smart, cool, tough-as-nails gang leader, but he is also still a twenty year old kid, in over his head, who leans heavily on his friends despite his pride, and who is greatly unequipped for the level of responsibility that has fallen onto his shoulders. To portray him as a person who is able to parent a gang of delinquent teenage boys almost his own age is disingenuous and out of character.

Darry Curtis is no one’s dad. That’s the whole point. 

[dazzlingjaeyun]

do mean dom sunghoon overstimming reader as a punishment and i will give you my firstborn 🙏

cw: smut so MDNI! (fingering, unprotected sex, overstimulation (duh), choking but not really, degradation but also praise, idek i'm just very confused)

hanna says: gimme the firstborn👹

"h-hoon, 's too much," you slur for the nth time, your boyfriends fingers relentlessly rubbing circles over your puffy clit. you try to squirm under him, but his other hand is holding your hips so tightly it almost hurts.

sunghoon's huff is the only sound that cuts through your whimpers and the squelching sounds of your wetness.

"i decide when it's too much," he replies through gritted teeth. "won't stop until the only thing you remember is my name," he mumbles, eyes fixated on your abused cunt and the way his fingers, fully covered in your arousal, moves from your clit down to your leaking hole once more.

the feeling of his digit against your entrance makes you look up at him with widened eyes. sunghoon thinks you're so pretty like this – your dress hiked up, the flimsy piece of clothing resting around your waist, straps daring to fall down from all the squirming underneath him and eyes filled with tears.

"hmm, already can't take it anymore?" he asks, his voice dripping with mocking sweetness, "but princess, i didn't even start."

your reply gets stuck in your throat when he pushes two fingers in, making you gasp and arch your back just another time.

"you wanted to be a slut, so i'll show you just what sluts get." and with that, he quickly pulls his hand away from your core and grabs both sides of your hips, manhandling you onto your stomach and pulling your hips up.

your head rests tiredly against the pillow as you try your best to stop your legs from shaking.

"say the word if it gets too much," his now soft voice cuts through the fog of your thoughts that are just filled with him, him, and him. his left hand gently massages your bruised hip, waiting for you to nod before all the gentleness disappears and he pushes his entire length in with one harsh thrust. the force of it would have been enough to make you lurch forward, if it wasn't for sunghoon's strong grip on your hips.

usually, he waits for you to adjust to him, but tonight he just can't wait to finally see you falling apart on his cock.

"so tight for me," he mumbles as he pulls out to his tip, only to slam his hips forward again. your hands weakly fist the sheets to somehow ground yourself as your boyfriend continues his movements.

"you think anyone else could fuck you like this?"

you try to shake your head, not trusting your voice, but you're too weak to even lift up your head from the pillow.

"right," sunghoon says, "pussy made just for me," he mumbles, repeatedly slamming his hips against yours, the tip of his cock meeting your cervix with each thrust.

it's too much and leaves you wanting more at the same time, your safe word constantly on the tip of your tongue, but you just can't get yourself to say it, it hurts too good :(

"mine mine mine," he grunts between harsh thrusts.

he lets go of your hip, his hand moving to your front to find your clit again. his fingers work fast, uncoordinated circles around your sensitive bud, way too captivated by how hard you're clenching him.

"s-sunghoon," you manage to whimper in between choked moans, feeling him twitch at the sound of his name rolling off your tongue like that.

"that's right, that's my good girl," he slurs, his free hand moving to your neck, pulling your torso up, your back leaning against his chest.

"want you to scream my name when you come undone on my cock," he demands, "i'm the only one who can make you feel like that, right?"

instead of replying, you just let your head fall back on his shoulder.

"your fault for being all flirty with my friends in that stupid short dress," he mumbles in your ear while his thrusts and his rubbing against your clit only grow harsher :(

that's what pushes you over the edge for the nth time that night. the intensity with which your walls are clenching around him making it almost impossible for him to move, as you just whimper a string of curses and his name, too far gone to form a coherent phrase.

when you come down from your high, the temporary pleasure giving way to pain, you weakly grab his wrist, tapping your finger on his skin to signal him to stop.

"fuck– almost there," sunghoon replies, not stopping his thrusts but slowing them down just a bit, "just a little longer, can you do that for me?"

[sturnslutz]

matt assigns you a specific job.

heh. dilfceo!matt dare i say? lowk long fic to make up for lost time of matt and bee. im sorry if this is horrible it took me 6 hours to write it☹️ fluff and smut.

it was another day at work for you. come in, work on whatever you needed to, and see your oh, so favorite boss. matt and you continued seeing each other secretly but never actually fucking. it mostly consisted of dirty words getting passed back and forth, you giving him blowjobs, and kissing.

sure, you loved it all. but you just couldn't seem to get the fact out of your mind that matt hasn't actually pleasured you, once. he acts like he wants to, but in all seriousness you both really haven't had the time, and from his words, he wants to "take his time with you."

you weren't sure what he meant, but you weren't hesitant on waiting. just becoming more impatient by each day passing.

you were in the middle of writing some email when you got a text. you were allowed to be on your phone while working, but you just preferred not to, and your friends were aware of that so they knew not to text you unless it was an emergency.

so when you got the notification, to no surprise you were confused. you stopped typing and picked up your phone and looked at the name. 'Matthew Sturniolo (work ;))'

you looked at your phone even more confused as you open up the text.

"Come to my office when you can."

you weren't necessarily busy, so you just decided to go now. sure, you guys do something almost everytime you go into his office, but other times, he did actually need something from you as his assistant that didn't consist of getting his dick sucked.

you knocked on his door softly, waiting for his response. you heard a simple, "come in." and you walked in with a certain caution you rarely get. not because of matt, but because he texted you. even coming from him, the guy who made you suck his dick the first time meeting you, it seemed "unprofessional" to him.

you walked to his desk as he doesn't take his eyes off his computer. "sit, it won't take long." you sit in the chair across him and he finally lets his big blue dark eyes look up at you through his glasses. "are you good with kids?" he states calmly, but almost making you choke on your own breath from the abrupt question.

"a-am i what?" you state, looking up at him with the most confusion all day. why is he asking you this? "good with kids. you got any siblings or anything?" he says again, calmly, taking his glasses off so he can get a better look at your expression.

"um, no. i don't have any siblings, but i have babysat a couple times. wait- why are you asking me this? matt. are you asking because you think im pregnant?" you whisper the last sentence as if anyone else is in the room, cautious of what he might say, despite never fucking once so there's absolutely no possibility you're pregnant.

"what? no. we haven't had sex, bee. you wouldn't be able to be pregnant unless you were seeing someone else. besides that, i'm asking because i need someone to watch my 6 year old daughter tomorrow night. i'm going out with a couple friends and my brothers aren't available to watch her, so i'm asking you, the next person i trust."

your jaw quite literally dropped. "matt, you just dropped some crazy info to me. you've literally never told me anything about your family before! when the hell did you get a daughter, you have siblings, and you trust me? wait, im gonna need to take a breath. but i don't know i'm not seeing anybody else i just panicked!" you rant to him with your questions.

he chuckled softly at you. "yes, bee. i trust you. and yes, i do have a daughter. her mom and i broke up about 2 years ago, when i was 26 and now it's just me and my girl, amelia. i also have 3 brothers, 1 of them being my half brother, but the other 2 and i are triplets. my half brother is justin, and my brothers are nick and chris. you'll probably meet them one day."

you nod, taking in all the information and calmed down. "okay.. um, i think i can tomorrow. would you want me to stay the night with her also?"

he shrugs. "i'm not sure yet. i'll probably leave around 6 and possibly be back late. if you wanna stay after she falls asleep, you can sleep in my bed. i'll pay you anyways. she's a really chaotic kid so you might fall asleep right after she does." he laughs at the memory of his daughter being so energetic.

"you don't have to pay me, it's fine, really." you say, trying to reassure him. sure, you needed the money and would love to make some especially as a college student, but you didn't want him to feel obliged to.

"don't worry about it, bee. i know you need it, and it's the least i can do if i haven't fucked you yet after you've sucked me off multiple times." he says with a certain calmness and smirk. "don't think its not happening soon though, kid."

you nod, smiling and looking down at your palms, unsure of what to say. "i'll text you the address and everything she needs. i'm sure she'll like you." he reassures you. "you can go on your lunch soon and get off early, i don't need anything else done today. just finish whatever you were doing before and go on your break."

you nod again, looking up at him. he had a very calming demeanor today which helped a lot with your worries. "c'mere, kid." you stand up and walk to him and he turns his chair, facing you as he looks up and grabs your jaw and kisses you softly. "you're gonna be great, bee." he mutters against your lips and kisses you once again before patting your cheek and you pull away.

you couldn't deny the heat rushing to your face at the kind words, something you rarely see out of him. it's not like he's ever mean to you, he just usually as a more professional, non-smiling side around others, even you sometimes. you notice that demeanor polishing off him once the conversation directed towards his daughter.

you walked out of the office and finished sending a couple emails, and leaving for your break. you go to a cafe you and matt have visited a couple times and order your usual. you quickly texted him if he wanted something, to which he reacted a thumbs up to. it wasn't much, just a plain black coffee and blueberry scone. you got everything and sat down near the window, watching the buzzling city just outside.

you got back to the office and clocked in, and knocked on his door once again and walked in, delivering his coffee and scone, to which he kissed you again and said thank you.

you got back to work, not having too much to do and clocked out once again about an hour later and head back home.

the next day, you walk into the office and knock on matt's door, just like usual. he lets you come in, and he looks up. "good morning, bee." you smile softly at him as you walk up to him, rubbing his shoulders from behind his chair and kiss his cheek.

"morning. so, i checked my plans and i'm free tonight for amelia. so, do you want me to come in around 5:30?" he nods, "yeah, 5:30's fine. it gives me time to show you where everything is and for you girls to get to know each other a bit before i leave. i'm telling you, i think she'll like you especially because you're younger than everyone else around her, besides her friends. me and my brothers are 28 and the other 35. her mom's 27 too."

"i'm not that young, matt. i'm only 22." you roll your eyes. he always loves getting a tease of you being younger than everyone at the company, despite also being one of the smartest there. "i know baby, 'm jus' teasin'," he says as he kisses you softly, smiling against your lips. "i'll text you everything when i'm done with all this and then you can just head out again whenever you're done and get ready."

with a final couple words, you leave and begin working on whatever needed to be done. you clocked out about a couple hours after that, not even taking your break so you wouldn't be missing too much.

you went home and got a text from matt which just gave the basics. his address, the time, and stating how you can bring pretty much whatever you would like to keep you busy when amelia and you weren't too busy.

you got ready into some basic clothes, something matt hasn't ever seen you in. you drive to his house and notice how big and extravagant his house is compared to your small apartment. you knock a couple times, waiting for the man to open the door, but instead was met by a little girl, no more than 3 feet with brown curly hair and big blue eyes just like matt.

"hi! you're bee, right? daddy said you were watching me tonight!" she says, smiling up at you with her big, pearly white teeth. you nod, already overwhelmed by how cute she is and she looks almost identical to matt.

"hi, yes i am. you must be amelia, right? such a pretty name for such a pretty girl." she nods and giggles as she opens the door wider for you. you walk in, and step out of your shoes and see matt appear from around the corner. he was wearing his familiar glasses he usually wore, but he was wearing a white long sleeve and a pair of black sweatpants and smiled softly at you.

"hey, bee." you smiled back at him and close the door as amelia rushes back to the couch. you walk up to him as he kisses your forehead sweetly. "c'mon. i'll give you a tour before i go." he takes your bag and sets it down on the couch and gives you a small tour of the house. he shows you where amelia's room is, where all the snacks are, where his room is and all the other basic stuff.

once it was time for him to go, he brought you both back to the living room to say bye to amelia. "lia, c'mere." he says as he stands next to the couch, grabbing his bag and adjusting his clothes. she plops off the couch and runs to him, gripping onto his leg as he lifts her up and kisses her cheek. "i'll be back late, tonight, okay? be nice to bee, and don't break anything. same rules when your uncles stay with you, okay? be good." he kisses her forehead once again and she nods as he sets her on the ground.

he looks to you, and kisses your forehead while holding your hip tightly as amelia runs back to the couch, not wanting to miss a moment of her precious bluey. "jus' give her food at around 8:30. there's some leftover food from last night, but if you don't want it, you can order food to the house or make some, whatever you prefer. she usually lets me know whenever she's tired so just let her eat and watch tv and she'll probably be passed out after. if you stay the night, let me know."

you nod at everything he says, and he says his goodbyes and walks out. you plop down on the couch next to amelia as she starts ranting about whatever her 6 year old self has to say. you listen intently, even if some of the things she says doesn't make sense.

once she relaxes a bit, you ask if she wants some food, and get up and warm up some of the leftover food they had. you made some for yourself, and brought over a couple snacks for the two of you and watched some more bluey.

you finally notice her getting a bit more tired, so you bring the now empty plates to the sink, and make a mental note to wash them after she falls asleep. "bee.. im tired." she mutters as she rubs her eyes. "let's get you in bed, baby." you say softly as you pick her up and carry her to her room. you don't turn on the big light for the sake of yours and her's eyes, so you walk over to her bedside light and turn it on, the soft, warm light radiating throughout the room.

you set her down on her soft bed, as she rubs her eyes again. "where are your pajamas, sweet girl? which drawer?" she opens her eyes faintly and points to the middle one of her 3 tier pink and red dresser. you walk over and grab out a soft, light blue matching set which had a mermaid on it.

"do y'like this one?" you hold it up for her to see and she opens her eyes again and nods. you walk back over and help her get changed. you toss her worn clothes into her hamper. you turn her around so her back is facing you, and grab her brush that was on her bedside. you take out her well-done braids and brush her soft brown hair while humming a soft melody.

she practically falls asleep at this and when you're done, you help tuck her into her bed. she laid on her stomach, so you sat in a criss cross position and scratched her back and head softly so she could go to sleep while still humming the same melody.

once you heard her soft snores, you rubbed her back a couple times more to soothe the scratches, and stood up and turned off her light. you closed the door quietly and made your way to the kitchen and began washing the dishes.

you obviously knew you didn't have to, but it felt the best to do. once you were finished and put the dishes in the washer, and tidied around the house a bit, you washed your hands and made your way to your bag. you planned on staying the night as you didn't feel very comfortable leaving amelia all on her own, so you brought some extra clothes. you made your way to matt's bathroom and washed your face and got changed.

you noticed a couple tampon boxes next to the toilet which were half full, but brushed away the weird feeling you got, as it's probably matt's ex girlfriend's. you knew it wasn't right to feel jealous over some guy, who was more importantly your boss, whom you sucked him off a couple times.

you finished getting ready and made your way to matt's room. it was dimly lit with an identical light to amelia's. you set your bag down on his desk, and noticed how clean his room was. the faint smell of his cologne lingered around and filled your nostrils as you took a few, calm breaths.

you made your way to his bed, and pulled out your phone to let him know everything.

"hey, i hope you're having a good night. just to let u know, im staying the night if that's alright. i fed lia and put her to sleep, she was an angel all night. i ate some of the food i warmed up for her also. i washed the dishes btw, it was no biggie. im prob heading to sleep soon."

you typed out while you set your phone to the side as you turned on his tv to watch something before you sleep. about 10 minutes into watching, you heard a text emit from your phone.

"Hey, everything's great, thank you. You're more than welcome to stay, don't worry. I'm glad she was good, and I'm glad the both of you ate. Bee, you know you didn't have to wash them, but thank you. I'll honestly probably be home soon, maybe in like an hour. I'll see you."

you heart his message before turning off the tv and calling it a night. you knew you would probably wake up when matt gets home. deep into your sleep, you couldn't hear the soft opening and closing of the front door. matt had walked in with such quietness, you would need to be right next to him to hear it.

he set his stuff on the table, and noticed how much cleaner the house was than before he left and cursed himself for allowing you to do that. on the way home, he just couldn't take his mind off you. he remembered the conversation you guys had the day before and how he noticed your shyness towards him when he mentioned how the two of you never had sex.

of course he wanted to, but he felt like he wouldn't be good enough for you since he hadn't fucked a girl in 2 years. but he decided to truly go ahead with his words and give you the pleasure he and you both realized you should be getting in whatever the two of you were, even if it wasn't a relationship.

once he dropped his stuff down, he made his way up the stairs and walked into amelia's room to check on her. he opened her door and noticed how her clothes were changed and how again, the room looks tidier.

he closed the door and made his way into the bathroom to get ready for bed. he noticed the lingering smell of your perfume and couldn't tear his thoughts away from you, and neither could his growing hardness. he scoffed at himself and finished getting ready.

once he was done, he quietly entered his room, and noticed you sleeping peacefully. he got into bed and rubbed your back. "bee, it's me." you hummed and rubbed your eyes, looking at him. "oh hey. how was your night?" you say, your voice scratchy. he laughs softly at this as he brushes a few hairs out of your face.

"it was good, baby. i couldn't tear my thoughts away from you though, the whole night." he says smirking. "oh yeah?" you say with a newfound confidence. "what were you thinking about?" you say as you turn onto your elbow, looking up at him.

he tsks teasingly. "mm. too dirty to say. maybe i should show it instead?" he says, rubbing your cheek. "matt, amelia's right next door." he shrugs. "so? we'll be quiet." you sigh, a smirk forming on your lips. you start putting your hair up, thinking it was going to be the usual blowjob, but his hand stops you. "no, no. i would love that, trust me. but, i wanna fuck you instead, if thats okay."

your eyes widen at this. "w-wait. are you sure? we don't have to. i mean of course it's okay, and i would love it but-" "yes, bee. i feel like i should be the one worrying about all this." he laughs.

"are you a virgin?" he continues and you shake your head no. he nods and kisses you softly. as time goes, and breaths get heavier, most of the two of yours clothes have been discarded onto the ground, leaving you in your bra and panties, and him in his boxers.

he's painfully hard right right now and you straddling him with your wetness isn't making it easier for him. you're grinding yourself on him as you both kiss each other deeply, your tongues intertwining."mmph- bee, stop. needa fuck you." he says, muffled as he can't tear his lips away. he reaches around, undoing your bra and pulling his lips away so he can see your tits pool down.

his eyes fill with lust as he latches his mouth around your tit, making you moan softly. he reaches his hand down, rubbing your clothed clit, eliciting another moan from you. he pushes aside your panties and slips his fingers inside you. you let out a high-pitched squeal and bury your head into his shoulder.

his fingers slip in and out of you effortlessly as he finally pulls his mouth away from your right tit and moves to your left, sucking and licking on it. as you get close to your release, he goes faster and pulls his mouth off your chest. "go 'head, baby. cum all over my fingers." with a final muffled moan into his chest, your juice gets all over his fingers as he slows his movements, riding out your high as he pulls them out, and brings them to his mouth and licks them clean and groans.

"fuck, you taste amazing." you look up at him with a flushed face, mascara already dripping down your face. his cock was painfully hard and twitching even inside his boxers, waiting for release. you moved your hand down and latched your fingers into his waistband and pulled it down, letting his long length hit his stomach.

he groans softly as you lift yourself on top of him, wasting no time to sink down. the both of you moan deeply as you lower yourself, inch by inch, until you sit fully on top of him. his fingers are gripping into your hips so hard, you're sure it'll leave marks.

"take your time, baby. get adjusted." he says through a groan. as much as he would love to fuck you reckless right now, he knows you need a bit to adjust, and the two of you need to be quiet for dear amelia right next door.

you nod and start moving up and down him slowly, your fingers gripping into his shoulders for stability. he helps you move and watches the way your pussy swallows him completely like he was made for you.

your movements grow faster and your moans increase. the headboard hits the wall continuously so you slow your movements so it doesn't hit too hard.

he can tell your getting close again by the way you hold your breath and the way you dig your nails into his shoulders. he's close too, so he forgets about the cautious movements and halts your body and thrusts into you, the wall sure to have marks.

"matt!" you say, squealing again. "shut up, bee." he says, drilling into you. he didn't mean his mean words and you knew that, he was just so focused on the two of you getting your release.

"fuck- matt i'm cumming!" you say, clenching up as he nods, groaning and halting his movements, filling you with his release to the brim. once he was finished, he pulled you off him, letting you fall back into the bed carefully.

he had some tissues next to him so he leaned over and spread your thighs open, cleaning you carefully as you wince. "i know, i know. 'm sorry, baby." he throws them on the ground as he grabs some more and cleans himself up, and then drags his boxers back up.

he notices the distress in your face as your panties were now dirty, and he stands up and grabs a pair of his boxers and hands them to you. "y'can have tomorrow off, so you can rest by the way." he says as he lays back down.

"yeah, thanks boss." you laugh as you toss your shirt back on. he rolls his eyes and smirks as he grabs a waterbottle next to him and hands it to you. as you drink it, your movements are halted by a few gentle knocks on the door. "daddy?" a small voice is said from behind the door. you and matt look at each other as he tosses his shirt back on and cover the two of you with the blanket.

"yes, lia? you can come in baby." he says, rubbing his face. the door opens and a small figure walks in with her holding her stuffed bear and her hair going in every direction. "are you guys okay? i woke up from banging on the wall and i heard bee screaming." his face drops as he realizes he actually woke his daughter up. "yes, we're okay baby. 'm sorry we woke you up, c'mere." he gestures for her to get closer to the bed as her feet patter against the ground and reach the bed.

he kisses her forehead and rubs her head as he whispers reassuring words into her ears. he looks over at you for your response as her big eyes look over. "yes, lia. i promise i'm okay. im sorry we woke you up also." she smiles softly. "it's okay." matt gives her one last kiss on the forehead before she walks out and closes the door.

he huffs and falls back on the bed. "sorry i woke her up." you mutter softly and he looks over, his face softening. "don't worry about it. we both did, actually. and she falls asleep fast, i guarantee you she won't remember in the morning." you nod as you take a deep breath.

"y'alright though?" you nod again to his question. "jus' tired." he nods. "me too. let's get some sleep." he kisses your lips one last time before you rest your head on his chest and fall asleep.

this took WAY longer than it needed to. started writing at 8:30pm, it's currently 2:18am. so if this is horrible i apologize.

@muwapsturniolo @lovergirl4gracieabrams @m4ttg1rl @lypsiiii @tyummyz @sturniqlo @emely9274 @shadowthesim @mattsobvimyfav @sturnl0ve @wastelandzella @fallininlust @chrisslut04 @sophand4 @vainilladollie @slutforchrissturniolo2 @ncm9696 @snoopychris comment to be added or removed.

[what-even-is-thiss]

I’m thinking about healthcare right now. I’m back on Kaiser since I’m back in California (and went through a several months long incredibly frustrating process with medi-cal and Medicaid) and they’re kind of one of the better health insurance companies. I say kind of because they deny the smallest percentage of claims of any major US health insurance company but they still deny around 7%

The weird thing with Kaiser is you need to do almost everything through Kaiser. They own hospitals, doctor’s offices, psychiatrists, etc. and usually that’s a great thing except for when it’s not.

See if I go to Kaiser every doctor they have there has access to my medical record. I don’t need to sign any tedious forms, spend two weeks pulling my hair out and sending emails. They’ve just got it. I don’t need to do my own research deciding what specialist to go to. I just go to one. Sometimes in the same building on the same day.

Usually, this is really good. When I was on blue cross/blue shield in Texas it took me like two weeks of constant emailing and phone calls to set up an appointment with a specialist. With Kaiser I just go to my GP and they look at me and confirm yes a specialist would help with that and then make an appointment with the next available one. And if I don’t like that guy or my GP I can just request a change on the website and get a different one.

The thing with Kaiser though is you need to go to Kaiser. Physically. You’ve gotta go to one of the Kaiser buildings. Often times there’s one, maybe two per city. You’ve gotta go there for doctors appointments, pharmacy, emergency care, everything unless they’ve contracted out to someone else. And they don’t do that very much.

So if I live next door to a random pharmacy I can’t use that pharmacy. I’ve gotta go halfway across town to go to my local Kaiser facility.

They also kind of might sometimes have a lack of local people with knowledge about certain very niche things. For my transgender related health issues I almost always have to do a tele-health appointment with some guy in San Francisco. I can’t talk to a specialist in person because my local Kaiser hospital doesn’t have anyone who specializes in transgender related healthcare on staff.

I mostly like Kaiser. I like that my doctors all just have my info. I like that I can just go to one place to get everything done relatively quickly. I don’t like that I have to go on a video call with a guy in San Francisco to ask questions about certain things or that I have to go across town to pick up my prescriptions when I live within walking distance of a pharmacy.

Why am I telling you all this? Well I think some people don’t know this sort of thing even exists in the US, or the advantages and disadvantages of it.

Of course the amount of money that Kaiser covers still varies depending on your plan like every other plan in the US. They have eye care but not all employers will pay for Kaiser eye care. They don’t have dental as far as I know.

I just think that there’s a world out there where we could have the best of both Kaiser and traditonal insurance companies, you know? A world where you can go to any pharmacy you want and also see a doctor the same day. That’s not the sort of world or specifically country I live in but I think it’s good for us all to understand the sort of stuff that’s out there. The possibilities.

[your-werewolf-boyfriend]

Listen to me

Listen very closely

The above is exactly why half of my friends come to me, and cry they're suffering, and I get to bestow my job hunting knowledge on them. I love this shit, it's a game.

For credentials my fastest job hunting time has been 1 week. I searched for 1 week, got an interview, and was hired within a week. My slowest was 1 month, while out of work, while telling ALL my interviewers that I quit my work without notice (I was testing my interviewers to see how shocked they'd get when I'd tell them why, anyone who wasn't shocked I would tell them at the end that I will keep them in mind (not)). My entire average is 2-3 weeks.

Firstly, what you're gunna do is pick a job sector. You're gunna pick a few of these by the end, but for now pick one. Maybe you wanna do bookkeeping, maybe you wanna do something in doggy daycare. Maybe you're a sous chef. Idk! Figure out what abouts you want first. Do not apply to anything yet. You're gunna look at the job description, I've picked out a few for bookkeepers below.

Now what you're gunna do is you're gunna look for "buzz words", or rather words that are gunna appear commonly and indicate the tone for that job. I've highlighted some, but not all in my examples below

Just look at that snout at how similar those descriptions are!

Now that you've got your buzzwords, you're gunna slap those babies into your resume! You see, since your resume is usually read by a computer first, you're gunna trick the computer into giving it to a person. Really what the computer is scanning for is how similar your resume is to the job description. Remember your bullet points, and to keep it short, try to only have 3 to 5 bullet points per job:

- Processed over 500 invoices a day in an efficient and accurate manner

- Curated reports for management review by utilizing available data

- Monitored and recorded over 100 submissions each day increasing accuracy by 50%

These are some great, made up examples I pulled from those buzz words. You might notice I added some numbers into there. That's something you'll wanna try and note for yourself, how much of something you can do, how accurate, how much efficiency you increased, these look GREAT when your resume gets past the computer and is moved in front of a real person.

Now you have your sector-based resume with lots of buzzwords. This is great! Now for the easy part. You're gunna channel your inner "IDGAF" And you're gunna send that to every listing you like on indeed. Filter for "Apply on Indeed" and spam that shit. Sometimes you gotta answer a few extra questions, but if they give me more than 5 quick questions I trash the submission and move on.

Don't waste your time jumping through hoops, streamline it for yourself and use the same methods companies are using. Push MASSIVE amounts of average quality resumes out. The more opportunities taken = the greater the chance of success. For every opportunity taken you've now pitched a chance of success, for every resume you cannot submit because you're piddling around on their stupid website or answering 50 interview questions online, you send out a 0% chance of success.

So go, try this, and see how it works for you.

Some additional things to consider:

- Add random shit in your resume, I added my "Board Game Club" (BDSM group) into my resume for hobbies and discussed how I got my start using sparklines there

- Never underestimate the flair of a little Clipart fleur-de-lis or something on your resume. Never put colored Clipart, but a little floral or swirl design located somewhere nice makes it stand out

- if you don't have a degree that doesn't mean they won't pick you, twice now I've come to a job without a bachelors and being honest that I was only getting an associates before I think of my next steps

- Embellish, do not lie. Jargoning your job description to make it sound cool and professional is GREAT. Do not give me a resume saying you can use CNC machinery when you've only used a 3D printer. Just tell me you know how to program and manage a 3d printer and want to learn CNC machinery.

- Keep. Your. Resume. To. Two. Or. Less. Pages. You don't need EVERY job, only the relevant ones, if your interviewer asks about the gap, tell them what job you had during that time (or if you wanna lie say you were taking college courses and were on a break, you dont need a degree to say you took courses) and that you only wanted to showcase the most relevant ones

- I'm serious on that last one I'll eat your fucking resume

Hey kid you want a job?

Great get online and go to a job board. Indeed, Linkedin whatever. Now you're gonna search for a role that's in your city, fits your qualifications, and doesn't seem like a bad time.

See that easy apply button? Don't hit it they just throw those in the trash. Now you're gonna want to go to the company's website and check their careers page.

Oh? That job doesn't exist anymore. Cool go back to the job board and find another one.

Great you found another job, you're on the company's career page and the job exists!! So you're going to need to make an account on the career page website. They're using Workday, the same site as the last job you applied for? Who cares? You need to make another account for THIS job's workday page.

Now you're going to upload your resume. That'll autopopulate about 15 boxes with everything on your resume, except formatted wrong and with tons of errors. So just go through and painstakingly check the dates on all of that and rewrite everything you already laid out in an aesthetically pleasing format on your resume.

Ok time for the cover letter, explain why this specific job and company are deeply important to you. You love their mission statement and wouldn't even laugh if their ceo was gunned down in the street. You'll really want to reiterate the things you just spent the last 20 minutes filling out on the resume section

(Remember to include language from the job description, people who work in HR are lower than dogs and they need patterns or they get confused.) Write about a page, but hey don't sound too desperate or robotic this is where they judge your character!

Maybe add your portfolio site at the end here, who knows if that helps no one has ever clicked mine haha.

Anywayyy time to hit apply! Congrats! You'll see that confirmation email come in and you should be getting the rejection letter in about 2 weeks. Unfortunately your resume didn't have the right buzzwords and the AI auto rejected you :(

Time to start again and try not to kill yourself!

[saturnscafe]

͙˚ ༘✶Big Bad Wolf | Werewolf Boyfriend? (Female Reader)

Smut Below

A/N: I really enjoyed writing this. It’s a little longer than I anticipated however I just adore it. I hope you all will enjoy it as well!

-🪐

He was known as the as the asshole of the college. Always picking fights and going after anyone who even dared breathe in his direction. He stood tall, muscular with scars that decorated his face and arms. His wolf ears standing at attention but not listening to anything that was around him. Everyone avoided him like the plague even you. However today had other plans.

You were sprinting down the hall, trying to get away from some asshole who couldn’t take no for an answer. When you ran face first into his broad chest. He was ready to say something to you until he saw the other man that trailed behind you. He grabbed you by the waist moving you to behind him before locking eyes with the other guy.

“Get lost” he said in annoyance. The other guys eyes looked over at you then back at him. Was he really willing to pick this fight?

“Dude Kyzer relax, just- just let me get my girl and we can forget any of this happened” the man said trying to grab for you.

Before you knew it he had the guys arm twisting it. “I said.” He growled. “Get lost”. His grip on his arm tightened nails digging in before pushing him away. The other man admitted defeat walking back with his tail between his legs.

Kyzer looked at you glaring down at your shaken body. “You good?” He asks surprising you even more. You don’t respond though, mind still in flight mode. He placed his hand under your chin lifting it up to look at him “hello? Are you good?” He said sternly.

You quickly nod snapping back to reality “yeah- yeah I’m good, sorry. Uhm- thank you.” You rambled out. You swear you saw a smile creep on his face but it was quickly gone.

He cleared his throat “if he tries anything again uhm?” He said hinting at you to tell him your name.

“Oh, uhm y/n” you said.

“If he tries anything again y/n, you come to me yeah? I’ll put his ass in the ground” he said with a twisted grin before walking off.

What was that? Was he actually nice? Or did you just catch him on a good day? No matter you went about your day. Going home and studying before getting the idea to bake him something to say thank you. Maybe he wasn’t so bad? Maybe this could be a way to get him to open up? But why did you want that? You scratched your brain, shit- did you like him? No, no that’s crazy. You still baked him something treats to take to him, hopefully he liked cookies.

The next day, you found him in his usual spot. Sitting at the tree while he ate his lunch. He looked peaceful as he ate, listing to some music and flipping through a book. You were so nervous to approach him but you did. Tapping him on the shoulder he turned his head quick. Ready to scream at whoever dared to disturb his peace. Until he noticed it was you, he tilted his head a bit like a puppy.

“Sorry for bothering you- I- uhm- made you these. As a thank you” you said sheepishly handing him the small container of cookies. He blinked, processing what you just said. No one’s ever really shown him much kindness. Even for doing something good like he had for you. So to say he was taken aback was an understatement.

“You made these for me?” He asked repeating your words.

You nod smiling at him shyly. “Yeah, if it wasn’t for you I- I don’t know what would have happened” you admit.

He felt his cold heart warm, pounding so loud he thought you could hear it. He looked over your face trying to read you. Fuck were you this cute yesterday? “Thank you” he said taking the container. He opened it right away the smell of the cookies making him sigh happily. “They smell delicious” he said smiling down at them.

He’s smiling? He’s smiling! Your heart skipped a beat seeing his pretty smile. Those sharp pearly whites of his made your body warm. Your face must have been red cause he couldn’t help but chuckle. “You’re cute” he said. It slipping past his lips before he could even stop himself. The compliment only making your face turn more red.

“I- uhm- thank you” you said feeling like you could puke at any second from the butterflies. “You’re not so bad yourself” you said with a smile.

His face started turning red, before he quickly turned away. “You uhm- you like movies?” He asked feeling stupid at his question. When you nodded his words came out fast “you wanna watch a movie later?” Fuck why’d he say that, his place was a wreck.

“Sure!” You said smiling like a dummy. “I just got a new system, we could watch it at my place?” You said.

“Cool, cool. What’s your number? So uhm- I can get your address” he said trying to play it cool. After exchanging numbers your alarm for your next class goes off making you jump. “I’m guessing no horror movies if you jump that bad from a phone” he teased.

You rolled your eyes “I’m gonna be late, I’ll text you my address. 7 sound alright?” You ask.

“Perfect” he said.

And you were off, sprinting to your next class.

His mind twirled with the thought of you. Fuck what did he get himself into? He doesn’t talk to many people nor has he ever had an actual relationship let alone a date. Sure he’s had his share of hook ups but that’s about as deep as it went. What the hell was he gonna do?

When the time came he stood outside your door taking a deep breath before knocking. When you answered his heart raced, here you were in sweats and a hoodie. How the hell did you look so good? When he walked in the smell of you overflowed him almost making him dizzy. You guided him into the living room where you had a bunch of blankets on your pool out. You were gonna be on a pull out bed. A bed. The two of you. His cock twitched in his pants at the mere thought of it.

“I’m sorry my place is a bit of a mess, but I got the couch all cozy. Oh and I have a bunch of snacks if you’re hungry” you said with a shy smile. He nodded following you to the pull out, when he sat down the scent of you was even stronger. Probably from all the covers you gathered from your bed. “Wanna watch a horror movie?” You asked flickering through the movies on the tv.

“Sounds goo- wait” he said looking at the screen. “You like that show?” He asked seeing a show you were watching earlier. It being one of your favorites.

“Uh yeah! It’s like one of my favorites I’m rewatching it since the new seasons gonna be coming out” you said smiling.

“No way! It’s one of my favorites, I’m super excited for the new season! I even have a poster of it in my room!” He rambled. It was cute seeing him all excited over something he liked. Seeing his cute smile light up.

“Maybe when the new season comes out we can have a watch party? I’ll make us some dinner and we can binge watch it” you said.

“Sounds perfect” he said back. It felt nice being able to talk to someone. To have something in common with you too.

You both decided on a movie, getting all covered up as it started. He was nervous to move closer to you but you were feeling a bit bold so you Scooted closer. Your shoulder touching now bodies close to one another. The scent of you driving him crazy more so now that he could feel your warmth. He moved his arm, to finally wrap around you “uhm- is this ok?” He said softly.

You nodded “aren’t horror movies the best ones to cuddle up too?” You said laying your head on him.

“Is that why you picked it” he said back in a teasing tone.

“Maybe”

“In that case why don’t we lay down in cuddle hmm? I mean we got this whole bed in all” he said with a smirk.

He was surprised that you instantly moved letting him lay behind you so you could both could watch the movie properly. He took his spot behind you wrapping his arms around you, pulling your body as close as he possibly could. His hand rested on your waist holding you tightly. His mind swirled with your scent god how was this happening to him?

A few minutes passed as you focused on the movie. Being painfully aware of the man behind you as he pressed himself against you. You could feel his girth cock pressing against your ass and you couldn’t help yourself. Grinding back against him, he let out a groan barely audible if it weren’t for him being so close. The sound of him turning you on way more than you thought it would. He didn’t stop you though, letting you rut yourself against him. Finally getting some friction.

His hand that was resting on your waist squeezed at every movement. You could hear faint ‘fucks’ coming from him only driving the want higher. The movement of you paired with the sweet smell of your dripping cunt was becoming too much for him. His hands hooked your at your pants “can I take these off?” He said softly.

You nodded letting him rid you of your sweats and your panties. He pushed his pants down after taking yours off. His big cock springing free finally. You could finally feel how big he truly was, fuck did you want him. His hands glided down your body moving your leg over his. His long fingers pressed against your needy nub making you whimper. His face was nuzzled into the crook of your neck as he licked up it.

His fingers lazy played with your clit before roaming further down. He couldn’t believe how wet you were, how wet you were for him. His fingers finally pushed into your dripping core curling ever so nicely. His movements were just as lazy, his thumb pressing against your clit once more. His mouth watered at the smell of you. He needed to taste you, and he needed to do it right now. With no warning he pulled himself from you quickly moving his body down yours.

He dived into your cunt, tongue quickly pushing into your folds. The moan you let out made his cock twitch. It was already leaking like a faucet ready to be buried inside you. “Fuck you taste even better than those cookies you made me” he said. His hands hooked around your legs pulling you closer to him as he ate you out like a starved animal. His tongue pushed deep inside you twirling around your tight walls. Your hands gripped at anything before gripping at his hair. You tugged on it softly making him groan “pull- ah- harder” he said. Of course you listened, tugging on his hair harshly pushing him somehow deeper into your cunt.

He felt like he was in heaven, fuck this must be heaven. Your cunt clenched around his tongue, knowing you were close he moved his hand to toy with your clit yet again. It didn’t take long after that for you to cum. Your body arched off the bed moans getting trapped in your throat only breathes making it past. He lapped up any of your sweet honey that dared to escape. Licking you clean before moving upwards to you. He kissed you messily. His cock head poking at your entrance.

Without any thoughts you moved yourself down letting his thick cock push into you. The stretch wasn’t bad, in fact the slight pain felt good. “Sh-shit” he moaned against your lips.

“Please- move” you whined out bucking your hips into him. His eyes met yours and what a sight to see. Your eyes were glazed over, cheeks flushed red. Fuck did you look so good. He blinked a second before everything sunk in. Your warm walls squeezing him so tightly. He started to move slowly before picking up speed.

His hands moved down pushing your shirt up. You quickly helped taking it off as he took his off too. He was delighted to see you didn’t even have a bra on either. His hands roamed your plush body, pinching at your perky nipples. He was quickly losing himself in you. His movements were becoming faster as his high was reaching near. “God you feel so fucking good, was this your plan all along huh? Get the big bad wolf all alone in your house to fuck you like a wild animal?” He teased.

“You- ah- you started it. You’re the one that was pressing there big dumb cock against me” you retorted.

“Can’t- can’t help it when you smell so good” he said back.

His movements were slowing down a bit making you whine. “Getting tired already? Need- ah need me to ride you?” You said with a grin. You felt his cock twitch at your words oh he definitely liked that idea. He wrapped his arms around you before lying flat on his back. Your legs straddled him the new position making him feel even deeper. His hands laid on your thighs those sharp nails digging into the soft skin.

As much as he wanted to show you how much of a big bad wolf he was he couldn’t help it. You were just too much for him, he was like some puppy dog that you had wrapped around your finger. When you finally got your feet in a proper spot you started moving. Bouncing up and down on his stupidly big cock. His knot forming as if his against your entrance. He watched as your tits bounced with every movement. His long tongue hung out of his mouth drool pooling with it.

“Fuck- just like that- ah” he moaned out. “Gonna let me knot you? Fuck please let me- need- need to breed you- ah- ah” he was such a mess under you. Your legs shook at the sight of him at his words. An orgasm washed over you without warning. Your body felt almost limp as it laid on top of him.

“I’m yours-“ you said in almost a whisper against his chest but he heard it. Oh boy did he hear it loud and clear. His hands gripped at your ass, fucking up into you with force.

“You’re mine? All mine?” He growled. “Good- all mine to- ah fuck- to breed- to claim- mine- mine” he kept repeating. Your hands that laid on his chest stared to dig in it his toned muscle. The slight pain Only driving him to fuck you harder. “Gonna take it all yeah? Gonna take everything I can give you- you’re mine. Mine.” He said.

“Yours. All yours.” You said softly against him. When those words finally left your lips that was it. He pushed up into you with one final thrust, his knot pushing past your entrance. The feeling alone bringing on another strong orgasm as you felt his balls empty inside you. His head that was nuzzled into your neck moved as he sunk his teeth deep into you. The pain the pleasure the everything of the situation had your mind floating. Your body shook harshly as you felt yourself squirting all over his cock and yourselves.

He let out a low growl holding your body tightly to him. He held you against him as you both came down from the intense orgasms. “You did so well” he almost purred into your ear.

A few minutes of silence mixed with heavy breathing filed the air before he spoke once more. “You really meant it right? That you’re all mine?” He asked sheepishly, afraid you’d take it back.

“I meant every word of it.” You said smiling. You kissed his cheek softly holding tightly to him.

You might have only known him as the asshole of the college but now. You were seeing him for who he truly was. He would let everyone believe he was still this big bad wolf that didn’t take anything from anyone. However when it came to you he was just a sweet overgrown puppy that would do anything for you.

[azzifuddslover]

UNRAVEL - chapter four

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

tw: swearing

themes: angst, fluff

word count: 4.2k

a/n: guys covid doesn’t exist in this fic. i’m also losing all motivation and starting to hate everything i write tbh.. don’t know if i wanna continue this, but if anyone really wants it, i’ll try my best 🤞

“any plans for your birthday?”

paige’s gaze meets azzi’s through her phone screen, a smile playing at her lips. in a matter of days, paige would turn 19— she’s already committed and began at the university of connecticut, making her debut game in november.

azzi, being 17— 18 in november— continues her journey in high school, being a senior and navigating her way through college decisions and what she wants her future to look like. but her college decision came easy— she barely had any considering to do, before settling on uconn, just like paige had.

“nah, nothing special. just hanging out with everyone,” paige shrugs. by everyone, she means her new teammates at uconn, who’s she bonded with nicely.

“i wish i could celebrate with you,” azzi sighs, although mischief swirls in her eyes. she moves her phone, blocking the view of her face, trying to hide her nagging grin.

little does paige know, in three days, azzi will be with her, ready to surprise her in a way she’ll never forget. azzi and her family have been planning this for weeks now, coordinating with paige’s own family to make sure everything would go off without a hitch.

“ugh, don’t get me started,” paige groans, running a hand over her face, wishing so desperately that azzi could be with her— especially on her birthday. “it won’t be the same without you, az.”

azzi tilts her head, her grin growing, making her dimples pop. “i know, but just think about it! you’ll be with your new teammates— i’m sure they’ll make it fun,” the younger girl replies, trying to sound as casual as possible but is unable to hide her excitement.

“true, but i want you to be here,” paige insists, eyes sparkling with the longing she’s always felt towards azzi.

“i’m sure it’ll be just fine,” azzi nods, confidence radiating off the brunette.

as they wrap up their call, azzi can hardly contain her excitement she feels to surprise her best friend. in just three days, she’ll be right by paige’s side, ready to celebrate in a way that feels more significant than just a birthday. azzi smiles at the thought of paige’s face when she’ll lay eyes on her, causing small giggles to escape her lips, mixing with a flutter of anxiety. as she imagines the moment, azzi feels a sudden gratitude for their strong friendship, knowing that no matter what challenges lie ahead, they’ll always have each other, regardless of their distance.

“mom, where’d you put my nike sweatpants?”

azzi frantically scrambles through her bag, stuffing her belongings in each pocket, trying to distract herself from the fact her plane leaves in an hour.

“i thought i put them in the laundry!” her mom calls from the kitchen, her voice calm yet slightly panicked.

azzi doesn’t waste a minute to dash to the laundry basket, rummaging deeper, her heart racing. when she doesn’t find the specific sweatpants in mind, she speaks up. “they’re not there!”

katie, azzi’s mother, rushes into her daughter’s bedroom, going straight to the closet. after only a moment of looking, she pulls out the nike pants, annoyance clear on her face.

“didn’t bother to check your own closet?” katie says, her eyebrows pinching together.

“whatever!” azzi shouts, her anxiety heightening to extreme amounts. she makes sure to grab paige’s birthday present, placing it carefully in the corner of the bag. she finishes off her bag, adding finishing touches— toothbrush, toothpaste, all the smaller items— before zigging it up. she throws it over her shoulder, hurriedly walking to the door.

“ready to go?” katie questions.

“yep, let’s go,” azzi says, her mind continuing to buzz from nerves.

out the door and into the car, azzi gently tosses in her duffel, tightening her seatbelt across her chest. katie turns the key, igniting the car to life, quickly taking off onto the street.

“do you think we’ll make it on time?” azzi asks, scrunching her lips into a line, anxiously fiddling with her fingers.

“it’ll be close, but you’ll make it,” katie notes, confidence in her tone.

ten minutes into the car ride to the airport, azzi pulls out her phone, dying to text her best friend.

hiii wyd? azzi pushes send, a light smirk on her face.

considering it’s paige’s birthday today, azzi had already said happy birthday earlier— at midnight, when they were on facetime, to be precise. but it’s no shocker the two girls were talking once again.

hey azzzz, not much, u? her response is automatic.

a: just driving

p: oh yeah? where u going?

a: out to eat

azzi smiles to herself, knowing damn well she’s not going ‘out to eat.’

p: that’s cool. miss seeing u so bad

a: miss u more, always

with that, azzi puts away her phone, focusing on the scene through the car window. she imagines paige’s reaction— her bright blue eyes widening, a huge smile erupting across her face. she can’t help but lean her head back against the seat, the smile still lingering on her lips. her heart races in anticipation of seeing paige, her best friend.

as they finally arrives at the airport, katie parks the car, to which the brunette jumps out, reaching for her duffel. she gives her mom a quick, reassuring hug, before dashing off towards the front doors, pushing them wide open. the airport buzzes with chaos— travelers going in and out, conversations being had all around her. all azzi focuses on, however, is walking towards the terminal, the familiar sounds of announcements and rolling suitcases creating somewhat of a comforting backdrop. taking a deep breath, azzi pulls her phone out once again, checking the time: only ten minutes until boarding.

it only takes azzi three minutes to get through security and complete all the airport checks. the announcement for her connecticut flight finally comes blasting through the speakers, and azzi’s pulse quickens with excitement once more. she glances at the digital board, confirming her gate number before heading in that direction.

sitting down on the plane, azzi lets out a breath of relief; relieved she made it on time, without any troubles, other than waking up later than expected, of course.

a few moments later, the plane lifts off the ground, azzi leaning back in her spot, a satisfied smile playing at her lips. just as she’s about to let sleep overpower her, a buzz from her phone stirs her awake.

p: wanna facetime later?

a: maybe, i might be busy then

azzi chuckles at her response, knowing later, she’ll be right by the blonde’s side, embracing her warmth.

p: oh ok. lemme know when ur free

setting her phone back down, azzi tilts her head back against the seat, trying her best to relax. as the plane ascends, azzi gazes out the window, her heart racing eagerness to see paige. she thinks about how paige has no idea she’s about to be surprised for her birthday; the thought makes her lips rise, as she can hardly wait to see her favorite person.

the plane lands, stirring azzi into consciousness. her eyes crinkle open, adjusting to the bright light peaking through the aircraft window. she hurries to secure her luggage, weaving through the crowd of the plane. she makes her way off the plane, searching for paige’s mom who has agreed to pick her up. amy’s been in connecticut to celebrate paige’s birthday, similar to azzi.

quickly spotting amy, relief washes throughout her features. she approaches, heart pounding in her chest.

“hi sweetheart!” amy greets, beaming, “how was your flight?”

azzi is grateful for her smile, already feeling at ease. “it was good, thanks,” she replies.

“glad to hear it,” amy says. a beat goes by of silence between the two, “wanna get going?”

“yeah!” when azzi realizes how eager she is, she clears her throat and steadies her voice, “yeah, that sounds good.”

amy only laughs, practically feeling azzi’s anticipation bouncing off her frame. as they walk through the airport and into amy’s car, azzi attempts to steady the pace of her heart, getting her breathing under control. she’s full of energy yet nerves still linger in her chest, feeling a sense of anxiety at seeing paige again. it’s been several months, almost a year since they last saw each other in person— azzi is slightly worried things might be different between them.

“are you excited to see her?” amy asks, glancing at the brunette in the passenger’s seat for a swift moment.

“i’m so excited. i’ve missed her a lot,” azzi replies.

amy smirks to herself, remembering back to paige’s confession about loving azzi. “she’s missed you too.”

azzi smiles, pleased with amy’s response. although she knows paige has missed her, it’s still nice to hear it from someone else.

as they drive in the direction of uconn, the unfamiliar landscape of connecticut flashes by— azzi takes in the scenery, admiring each tree and building, knowing she’ll be here only next year. she still fails to shake the flutter of nerves, questioning if they’re bond will still be in tact after all this time of being apart.

“she’s going to be so surprised,” amy speaks up, breaking the moment of silence.

“i hope so,” azzi giggles. “i’m excited to tell her about my commitment.”

amy gasps, shocked at azzi’s words. “wait, you’re committing to uconn?”

“yeah,” azzi replies, biting her lip.

“oh my gosh, she’s gonna be so happy,” amy says, her eyes lighting up with joy.

azzi nods, “i think so too. i’ve been thinking about it for a while, ever since geno made his offer. i finally decided last month.”

“that’s great, azzi,” amy grins, knowing her daughter will be over the moon when she finds out.

the conversation dies out, azzi’s focus lingering out the car window. she fidgets with her fingers, an anxious habit of hers, as she is still nervous about reuniting with her best friend.

amy pulls up to conn; azzi takes in the size of the campus, admiring each area, knowing she’ll be here soon, playing alongside paige like she’s wanted to do so badly since USA basketball.

“alright, how do you wanna go about this? do you want me to text her, asking to meet out here?” amy asks the younger girl.

azzi weighs her options, thinking through each way to surprise her friend. “yeah, i think that’s best.”

amy reaches into her pocket, pulling out her phone. her fingers work away on the keyboard, before putting her phone down, a satisfied smirk on her face.

“she’s on her way.”

a bubble of familiar nerves erupt, once again, in azzi’s stomach. she bites the inside of her cheek, anxiously waiting for paige’s arrival.

azzi gets out of the car, running off to hide right next to the doors, but out of the view of paige, once she makes her way down.

the creak of the door startles the brunette, her eyes widening. her gaze immediately lands on the back of paige’s frame. “what is it, mom?” her voice is gentle with a hint of curiosity.

azzi steps out, stuffing her hands in her hoodie pockets, walking out casually in the direction of the blonde.

“happy birthday,” azzi says, successfully keeping her voices steady and calm.

paige whips around, instantly recognizing that voice. her lips gap, eyes locked on azzi’s brown ones.

paige rushes over to azzi in record time, throwing her arms around her waist, pulling her body flush against her own.

“how the fuck are you here?” paige mumbles into azzi’s curls, still in a daze.

“i flew in today, your mom picked me up from the airport,” azzi replies, beaming.

paige leans back, lifting azzi slightly off the ground, burying her face further in azzi’s neck. the brunette lets out a little squeal, her feet dangling.

“wanna go to my room?” paige says, her voice low. she pulls away, hands still brushing azzi’s hips when she meets her eyes.

“sure,” azzi answers, running off to quickly grab her duffel from the car.

paige waits for her, still in disbelief that azzi is here, in connecticut, for her birthday.

when azzi reaches paige on her way back, the older girl doesn’t hesitate to take azzi’s free hand in her own, intertwining their fingers. azzi swears her heart skips a beat at the small act of affection.

paige leads the way in front of azzi, tugging her by the hand through the hallways, turning corners until they reach paige’s dorm door. with a brisk motion, the door unlocks, revealing her very fitting dorm room.

azzi takes in the vivid decorations— basketball posters, a few books— before her line of sight lands onto their interlocked hands. paige glances back at azzi, her eyes lightening.

“i’m so glad your here,” paige whispers, gaze dropping across her features.

“me too, p,” she leans slightly into paige, welcoming her emitting warmth.

paige pulls the younger girl down onto her bed, into a sitting position, dropping right next to her. their thighs brush, enough for butterflies to spread throughout her chest.

azzi squeezes paige’s hand, biting the inside of her cheek. “i have to tell you something,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper. “oh— i have your birthday present, first.”

azzi painfully let’s go of paige’s grip, immediately missing her touch. she tries to tell herself it’s what all friends do— constantly touch one another, miss the warmth of each other’s hands. but this feels different, yet she doesn’t have to courage to confront any sort of feelings right now.

azzi rummages through her duffel, fingers brushing against clothes and beauty products in search of a small box nestled at the bottom.

“you didn’t have to get me anything,” paige says, although she buzzes with curiosity.

“nonsense,” azzi grins, finally gripping the box in her hand. she presents it to paige, opening it slowly, revealing the delicate, silver cross necklace. “i know you don’t wear jewelry that often but— it’s cute, right? i had to save up for like, two months for this. if you don’t like it though, i have the receipt, i can return it—“

azzi is cut off by paige yanking her down, pulling her back into another fierce hug; one full of meaning, of admiration, of unspoken love.

“it’s beautiful, az,” paige murmurs, hands coming up to cradle her head, “i love it.” i love you, is what she’s meaning to say, but lets the words die out on her tongue.

paige leans back, removing her hands from the back of azzi’s head, only for them to gently brush curls behind her ears, “what were you gonna tell me?” her eyebrows pinch down, curious for her response.

“oh, um,” azzi bites her lip, anxious for paige’s reaction. “i’m committing to uconn,” the words come out barely audible.

paige freezes, not quite believing the words that just came out of her mouth. “are you joking?” she says, jaw twitching. “cause if you’re joking azzi, i’m gonna be so pissed—“

azzi brings her hand to cover paige’s mouth, not wanting to hear another word. “i’m not joking, p, i swear.”

paige feels her heart pounding too hard in her chest, a rush of emotions overwhelming her. she attacks azzi with a powerful, deep hug— third time in short time azzi’s been here. with this motion, paige leans back, gently pushing azzi onto a laying position on her bed, their bodies flush against each other’s. azzi laughs softly, her surprise melting into comfort as paige tucks her head into the crook of azzi’s neck. “oh my god, oh my god…” she repeats over and over, still in disbelief.

“i’m taking this as a sign you’re pleased?”

paige, still pressed against azzi’s neck, answers, “hell yeah i’m pleased!” azzi giggles again, her hand moving up to paige’s back as she continues to lay, basically onto of her. “do you know what this means? we’ll see each other everyday, az. no more fucking facetimes.”

a bubble of excitement fills azzi’s stomach, already so incredibly ready to begin at this school. “i genuinely can’t wait.”

“i can’t…” paige’s words trail off. she inhales azzi’s scent, the smell of a fresh shampoo filling her nostrils. she props herself onto one elbow, enough so their faces are a few inches away. without a thought in her mind, the blonde leans down, peppering small kisses along azzi’s neck, up to her jaw.

a quiet gasp escapes azzi’s lips, her mouth parting with surprise, mixed with an undeniable pleasure. her eyes flutter shut as she tilts her head to the side, giving paige better access.

continuing to plant gentle kisses on azzi’s face, paige brings her other hand up to rest on the brunette’s stomach. she feels her stomach tense under her touch. “god azzi, i fucking lov…” her words fail to fully leave her lips, once again. she can’t quite seem to work up the courage to reveal her feelings towards the girl under her, but can’t seem to hide them, either.

paige eventually removes her lips off azzi’s flush skin— azzi immediately notices her glistening baby blue eyes.

azzi leans up into a sitting position, pulling paige up with her. “hey, hey, what’s wrong?”

paige sniffles, trying her best not to let the tears fall. “i’m sorry… i’m just,” she bites her lip, closing her eyes for a moment, attempting to get her emotions under control. “i’m so happy.”

“aw, stop, you’re going to make me cry,” azzi smiles, yet it’s full of warmth and understanding. azzi places her hand on paige’s cheek, wiping away a singular tear. leaning in, azzi kisses her damp cheek softly, her lips lingering for a moment. “cmon, you can introduce me to your teammates.”

yanking paige up from her spot on the bed, azzi connects their hands, not wanting to break contact. paige hiccups, finally calming down to the point she’s no longer crying. with their hands interlocked, paige leads azzi out the dorm door to make their way over to nika, a close friend and teammate of hers, room.

the blonde knocks on the door, still clutching azzi’s hand for dear life. when the door opens, revealing nika along with the entire uconn basketball team, loud cheers erupt mixed with birthday wishes.

“happy birthday paige!” the team shouts in unison, wide grins on their expressions. paige’s lips tip up, a hint of gratitude in her eyes.

being the kind of person paige is, she thanks each player individually, laying out her appreciation.

as nika approaches the pair, her gaze flicks to the brunette, who’s basically attached at paige’s hip— she’s not used to being surrounded by so many people she doesn’t know. “who’s this?” nika questions, making sure to keep her tone light and friendly.

“azzi, my best friend,” paige replies, a smile visual on her face. she tugs azzi forward, so they’re side to side, as her hand lands on the small of her back.

“oh, i see,” nika smirks, her voice knowing. “she mentions you a lot.”

paige’s eyes widen, lips curling up, clearly not pleased with her friend’s snarky comment. azzi only chuckles though, not seeing any harm in her words.

“she’s committing to uconn,” paige announces, trying her best to ignore what nika previously said.

the team’s chatter quiets as they listen in, curiosity piqued. nika raises an eyebrow, “oh really? you any good?”

paige playfully nudges her friend, pushing nika back a step. nika laughs, finding paige’s annoyance amusing. “she’s fucking great, nik. we’ll be lucky to have her here, that’s for damn sure.”

nika’s smirk grows, instantly recognizing the pair’s type of friendship. azzi’s cheeks warm, not expecting the sudden attention.

“cmon az,” the older girl tugs at azzi’s arm, dragging her over to the counter which contains an assortment of alcoholic beverages.

paige pours herself a shot, immediately throwing it back, causing her throat to burn. she blinks a couple times, before glancing over at the brunette by her side. “do you want one?”

azzi shallows, yet she already knows her answer. “hell yeah,” she grins.

azzi’s been drunk a handful of times by this point, but never with paige, considering they rarely see each other in person. although she loves the rush it gives her, she absolutely hates the hangover that comes with it.

paige hands the bottle over to azzi, who gratefully accepts it, pouring herself a shot of her own. azzi downs her shot, the warmth spreading through her. her gaze drifts to the blonde, who’s grinning with a spark of mischief in her eyes.

azzi smirks, “another?”

many drinks and collective, loud laughs later, paige and azzi found themselves seated on the couch, with azzi’s legs laid out on top of the older girl’s lap. the room echoed with background music and conversations, but all paige could focus on was the way azzi’s playful energy lit up the space around them.

paige subtly inches her hand up, over top of azzi’s leg, gently rubbing her calf, fingers tickling her skin.

“stop, that tickles,” azzi giggles, yet she makes no movements.

“you like it,” paige says like it’s a fact.

azzi shallows, feeling the tension surrounding them grow more intense. azzi’s cheeks redden once paige dares to move her hand up higher, to her thigh.

azzi adjusts her spot on the couch, shifting so her and paige are side by side, touching at the hip. the brunette, feeling a wave of exhaustion wash over her, leans her head on paige’s shoulder.

azzi, in the drunken state she’s in, starts laughing at nothing as she nuzzles her face deeper in paige’s neck.

“what’s funny?” paige smiles.

“i don’t know,” azzi laughs once more.

without any notice, azzi’s lips connect with paige’s soft skin, placing gentle kisses up her neck and behind her ear. when paige lets out a moan so quiet only azzi can hear, she decides to test the waters, sucking and teasing.

“azzi…” paige mumbles, letting her pleasure be known. “you’re drunk.”

“and? so are you,” azzi mutters against her skin, continuing her movements.

“so we probably shouldn’t be doing this,” paige says, although her head tilting, giving azzi more access, says otherwise. “we’re friends…”

azzi, with her head still fuzzy, smirks, kissing her neck deeper. “friends do this.”

paige’s eyes roll back, her hand finding its way to azzi’s waist, hoisting her closer. “fuck it.”

not caring about all of her teammates in the room, paige connects their lips in a searing, all-consuming kiss— azzi crawls onto her lap, straddling her waist. the brunette deepens the kiss, adding her tongue in the mix. paige groans into her mouth; butterflies swirl in azzi’s stomach.

azzi’s hands find paige’s hair, fingers curling in her blonde locks, lightly tugging her head back. paige grips azzi’s ass, squeezing softly.

“fuck, paige,” azzi breaks the kiss, leaning her head back long enough for paige to move her attention to azzi’s neck, letting her lips work away at the skin.

“can you guys not dry hump one another on my couch?” nika voice booms, making paige and azzi tear their faces from each others. azzi glances down at paige under her frame, eventually moving off her lap as awkward tensions seeps in.

“let’s go to my room, az,” paige says, throwing a glare at the croatian.

she holds her hands out for azzi, who gratefully takes them. the pair says their goodbyes, paige thanks everyone for the birthday wishes, before making their way out the door.

the two girls walk in complete silence, letting the unsaid words hang in the air. as they reach paige’s dorm, the tension crackles softly around them. they move about, getting ready for bed, not bothering to make conversation. the remnants of laughter and the buzz of the small get-together lingers in the atmosphere. paige grabs her pajamas and changes quickly, glancing over at the younger girl, who is still a little flushed from their earlier kiss.

once they’re both in comfortable clothes, they crawl into bed, the softness of the sheets enveloping them.

paige turns to azzi, her gaze steady. “you’re so beautiful, you know that?”

azzi smiles so hard with her dimples exposed, her cheeks begin to hurt. she reaches out, grabbing paige’s head in her hands, kissing her forehead— twice, for good measure. “happy birthday, baby,” she whispers, still slightly feeling the effects of the alcohol.

paige freezes at azzi’s word choice, her heart quickening as her cheeks warm. she inhales a long breath before settling comfortably in bed, right alongside the younger girl, a shy smile on her face.

in the quiet, they share a moment of pure peace in each other’s presence, the gravity of the night lingering as they lay side by side, the outside world fading away.

[loucifersbitch]

Number 44 Cheap for Bucktommy

"You don't get to cheapen what we had."

Tommy says it evenly, a quiet rage burning in his eyes. He's not angry, Buck doesn't think. More hurt than anything else. And isn't that a punch to the gut?

"I'm not saying that, Tommy. Nothing about what we had was cheap. I'm only pointing out that we were obviously in two very different places when it came to how we felt about each other."

"Hm," Tommy hums noncommittally. "I think maybe you should just go, Buck."

Another gut punch. The only reason he's in Tommy's house is to return the box of things that's been sitting next to Buck's front door for more than two months.

"I feel like I'm saying everything wrong here," Buck tries. "I just want to talk to you, Tommy."

"I don't want to talk to you," he says, ending with a heavy sigh. "I can't do this with you."

"Listen, I know you didn't love me the way I love you, but that doesn't mean w-"

"What?"

Buck snaps his jaw shut, puzzled. He tips his head.

"What, 'what?'"

"You think I don't -"

Tommy has started pacing, running rough fingers through his hair as he gets more worked up. Finally he comes to a stop in front of Buck, nearly panting as he meets him head-on.

"I love you so much that it nearly killed me to walk away - almost literally."

"What?!"

"Let me finish," he says calmly. "I love you so much that I had to walk away. I've never felt this way about anyone, and that scares the absolute shit out of me." He laughs humorlessly. "I knew I'd just keep falling more in love with you, and then where would I be? When you finally realized you were settling for the first guy you dated and dumped me to go find someone better, I don't -" he exhales shakily, "- I don't know if I could've survived that. So I walked away while I could still scrape myself off the floor."

Buck is frozen where he stands. He's trying to process everything Tommy just said, and he allows himself the briefest moment to consider that Tommy's right.

Sighing and turning away, Tommy says, "I think I'm just not made to be loved long-term."

That gets Buck to finally unfreeze.

"You dumbass," he says. Tommy turns back to him as his eyebrows shoot up, but Buck ignores the look on his face. "You're just scared. And you're making us both pay for it." He grabs Tommy's arm to stop him from turning away again. "I'm not some kid who's new to love, Tommy. I'm 33. I've been in love before, and I know what it feels like to lose it. But that's not an excuse not to try. And I'm not saying it'll be easy every day, but I want to work at it with you. Especially with you," he emphasizes.

"Evan," Tommy sighs, "I'm not good at any of this. Loving you? That part's easy. But I don't - I don't know how to let myself be loved."

"Okay, well," Buck pulls him closer, and Tommy doesn't resist, a smile twitching at the corner of his mouth, "I think you can learn. You'll have to because I'm gonna love you anyway."

Send me a number and I’ll write a micro story using the word or phrase

[amynchan]

Interests are fun and varied.

Hobbies are interesting and conversation starters.

"You don't understand me" is a conversation stopper that actively prevents others from getting to know and understand you as a person. It promotes self-isolation and keeps the cycle of misery going specifically for yourself.

Active, performative, and broadcasted disinterest due to a fear of how others will perceive you not only fails to achieve the effect you want (being cool and aloof) but has an additional bonus of alienating and shaming those who have that particular interest.

Diminishing others to gain points with an "in" crowd only secures friendships that are conditional at best and abusive at worst, and it alienates those you diminish with whom you could have found or made a good rapport with.

Believing and telling anyone who will listen that the entire world hates you and is against you often ignores what you, as a person, have contributed to a particular problem and avoids looking for a true solution. It is true that there are external factors that can affect you in a truly negative way. Not everything that happens is fair. However, when absolutely everything isn't your fault, or if you only accept blame in order to make yourself seem more tragic or to gather sympathy or support, you are not actively looking for a solution, and you will likely stay in your position for a long while yet.

Having stuffed animals is adorable and idc how old you are or what gender you are.

Trying new clothing styles, hair styles, hobbies, interests, and shows in a genuine effort to figure out what you, personally, enjoy is a timeless act that should never stop with your teenage years.

Hyping up your friends in sometimes cringe ways is always in-style. Looking at you, boys and men. Your goofiness is an inspiration to us all.

Basically, teenagers are in the social trenches trying to figure out who they are, what they like, who they fall in with, and what they believe. They do all of this while doing their damnedest to avoid getting hurt because getting hurt sucks. On that road, they pull some stupid shit, say awful things, make terrible decisions, and hurt themselves and others without recognizing the full impact that their words and actions can have. They are carving a place for themselves in this big, freaky world, and the tools they use to do it are both sharp and dangerous to themselves and those around them, especially the defensive tools they will use. Inevitably, they will hurt others. They will hurt themselves. And they will grow beyond it as stronger, more stable, more confident, more independent human beings. Like most of them want to be. Being a teen sucks, but it isn't forever.

As an adult, you have had time to get used to being in this big, freaky world. You have had the time to figure out emotional maturity and recognize the possible damage you can inflict on others. And if you haven't yet, then other adults will absolutely knock you right back on your ass until you figure it out.

you ever have situations that make you want to take people by the shoulders and go "you are not 15 any longer. this behavior is no longer quirky and cute. it is exhausting for you and everyone else to act like a teenager you haven't been in a decade or longer. knock it the fuck off"

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Squeaky Clean 5

Warnings: non/dubcon and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Steve Rogers

Summary: You start work as a maid but you’re not prepared for the mess your client brings with him. (maid AU – plus!reader)

Note: damn, boy.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

“So, if you terminate contract without two weeks’ notice, terms state you owe the agency an admin fee.” Jan explains over the phone. 

You sit in your car with her on speaker, idling behind the store, shellshocked.  

“How much?” You ask. 

“Based on how long you’ve been with us, four-fifty.” 

“That-- four hundred and fifty? That’s a week’s pay,” you exclaim. 

“Yes, well, we’d have to overextend other staff and then there would be training and recruiting. Seeing as you’ve not completed your probation period, we would be taking a loss.” 

“A loss? I’d still work, just for another client.” 

“There’s a lot of cleaners with seniority, they get preference. I’m sorry, but those are your options,” she says. She has no compassion, it’s all just money to her. 

You stare at the brick wall ahead of your car. Never mind about going inside. You’ll make your boxed macaroni with water tonight. Maybe as you scroll the job boards. If you get something quick, you’ll be able to cover the fee. 

Or. 

Or... 

Or you’ll have to face him again. 

You grip the wheel tight. It isn’t even your car. The fee comes out of your pay too. This whole thing is a grift. You lean forward and rest your head on the vinyl ridges. 

You see him, standing in front of the door, in his body armour and helmet. A man who could snap you like a twig. You exhale with a quake and roll your eyes back against the swell of heat. You have no choice. Not unless a miracle comes and you don’t believe in those. 

You drive home. Your apartment is small. Especially compared to his townhouse. How rotten. Look at you. Living at the bare minimum, living off his scraps based on how well you clean his floors. It’s not fair. And he can just do whatever he wants. Because what, because he wears that costume? 

You’re not hungry. You scroll through job boards. It’s all this bullshit AI training. You know it’s garbage. $100 an hour, yeah, you’re sure it will hit your bank account smoothly. Oh and Jan didn’t miss the non-compete clause. If you quit, you can work for another cleaning agency or even freelance for at least a year. 

Sleep is fractured by your anxiety. Every time you close your eyes, he’s there. Each time you move, you feel his hands on you. Your skin crawls and your insides burn. Why? Why you? Would it be the same if it was anyone else who’d taken that job? 

You stare at the ceiling as the sun rises outside your window. As the light shifts, your nerves flurry. You don’t want to get up. You don’t want to go back. 

You flinch as a soft click comes from the kitchen. There’s a length of wall between the rest of your apartment and it. A bachelor with nothing more than a clunky radiator and scratched floorboards. Another click and the grind of the coffee machine. 

You sit up, chest thumping furiously. You’re dreaming. Your frail human condition finally forced you into submission. It’s a nightmare. It has to be. You're sure of it as he appears from behind the wall, leaning on the plaster with smirk. 

Steve’s hair is slightly askew. His cowl is gone but the rest of his suit is still in place. All but his gloves, tucked into his belt. 

“You know, I was always taught not to give up. Why do you think I am who I am,” he grips his hips as he pushes away from the wall and approaches you with decisive steps. “You don’t just roll over and let the world win.” 

You blink. It’s not a dream. You’ve never felt anything more real. 

“When you get a no, you don’t stop until you hear yes,” he stops at the foot of your bed, “or until they can’t say anything.” 

“Steve,” you bend your legs and push yourself back against the metal headboard. “What...” 

“You know, it’s funny. They didn’t tell me all the side effects.” He turns and sits on the side of the bed. “Nope. They said ‘it’ll make you strong. And big.’ That’s about all they told me,” he bends his leg and brings his foot onto his knee. He unlaces his boots, the ends of the laces snapping on the leather. “They don’t tell you how much you can hear. How much you can feel. Or not feel.” 

He scoffs and shakes his head, “either they didn’t care or they didn’t know. I can’t say which is worse.” He wiggles the boot off and switches boots. “Don’t tell you that your body turns into this callous shell. The caffeine in a cup of coffee does nothing. Nope. You’re body’s on overdrive. You get nothing. You only give.” 

He rips his other boot off and drops it. He sighs and leans forward, his elbows on his thighs as he bends his head. He smooths his blond hair. 

“I can hear through a car. Even from a block away. Even through the brick wall. And I can hear your heart beating from ground level,” he sniffs and rolls his shoulders, holding his head. “I can hear it right now too.” 

You’re silent. Paralysed. It’s all a game to him. He’s been following, watching. Even if the thought crossed your mind, you wouldn’t have caught him. He shows himself when he wants to be seen. Exactly as he does at his place. 

“I just want to feel one fucking thing that makes me feel alive,” he sits up. 

You stare at him. He slowly looks over his shoulder and meets your gaze. “I put the coffee on. Your head’s throbbing. Migraine. The cells in your brain are compressed. Lack of seratonin due to lack of sleep.” 

Your mouth falls open. He can tell all that. No, another job was never an option. Quitting, like he says, isn’t a choice. Why doesn’t matter. Why is a stupid question. Why won’t change what is about to happen. 

“Have a cup, take a shower, relax,” he commands. “I want you to feel it too.”