#but with this I just want to take the point across and I think that's a good practice

[fanzou]

Here's an idea? The OP guys. Sanji, Zoro, Law, (separately, of course) with a reader who has a crush on them, and they KNOW IT. (But nobody else does) So he just messes with her and gets her to blush, as his was of saying that he likes her too.🤭

Big, Fat, Crush

✗ Pairing(s): Zoro Roronoa x Fem!Reader, Sanji Vinsmoke x Fem!Reader, Law Trafalgar x Fem!Reader

✗ Summary: What do they do knowing you have a crush on them?

✗ CW: Reader is wearing a dress in Zoro's first half, Teasing... and it's RUTHLESS, Law makes reader cry but he makes up for it, it gets a little suggestive at the of Sanji's part [Let me know if I missed any]

✗ Total WC: Zoro’s Ver. (1.8K), Law’s Ver. (2.3K), Sanji’s Ver. (1.3K)

✗ A/N: Wow. If you couldn't tell I loved writing this. I didn't intend for it to get so long but here it is! Enjoy love.

ZORO RORONOA

“You want me to get you any more sake, Zoro?”

“Yeah sure, thanks.”

The bar is crowded, but not so much that it was unbearable. You and Zoro found yourselves at the little table across from each other in the very back of the room catching up and debriefing about today’s events. But the day wasn’t so very eventful, otherwise he’d probably be drunk by this point to alleviate and level himself. He liked to really enjoy the end of his day like this. It was a good day.

You were tipsy, but he on the other hand, always held his alcohol well.

“What do you wanna do tomorrow before we leave the island?” You ask him, he liked the silence between you two, even in a rowdy bar, but he didn’t hate when you talked to him either. You asked all the right questions, you weren’t obnoxiously dumb like the rest of the crew, even when you were under the influence.

“Not too sure yet. I didn’t get the time to check out what they had with your excessive clothes shopping.” He says so nonchalantly, taking a sip of the drink you got him.

You pout with your brows furrowed, cute, “I did not buy that many clothes!”

“It probably felt that way ‘cause I was carryin’ the bags all damn day.” He grinned at you, a mischievous one.

You roll your eyes at him, but then giggle into your own drink, “You’re insufferable.”

He doesn’t miss the way you blush at his harmless teasing.

He never does.

-

So…

You end up a little more drunk than anticipated.

And you can’t for the life of you remember what you did last night. Your head was pounding, like, real life pounding through your skull almost like it was angry for you being so reckless just a few hours ago.

But to your relief, your back on the ship, clothes from last night still on and somewhat in tact— a little wrinkled, and your dress was ridden up a bit more than you were comfortable with. You pull it down immediately in embarrassment. Hopefully Zoro didn’t see that. Anyway, you scope out the girl’s quarters to see that Nami and Robin weren’t anywhere to be seen, and there was none of the usual liveliness in the ship that you knew and loved, no running footsteps, bangs, booms, nothing. Assuming that the green-haired man probably took you back to the ship in your drunken state and took his own personal stroll into the small town at the island, you relaxed.

But you were probably gonna get an earful from the crew since Zoro had a tendency to get lost.

Your shame settles in, and you mentally curse at yourself for being so reckless when the team counted on you for being the more careful one of the two. But something about his energy was so comforting, and you felt so safe around him. The fact that he safely took you back to the ship was living proof of that and you got a little flustered at the thought.

How did he carry you back? Bridal? On top his shoulder? Were you faced forwards or back? Maybe not even carried at all, just arm slung around his shoulder— Whatever the case, the thought of the close proximity made you nervous to think about.

To your astonishment you hear a knock on the door to the shared room. “Come in!” You say, your head immediately punishing you for it.

To your surprise, Zoro opens the door, and comes in. He closes the door before he faces you. “You feelin’ alright? You kinda got a little ahead of yourself.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me. I have the worst head ache of all time.” Your head is in your hands and your hair looks ten times more disheveled than it did when you woke up. You fight the feeling of discomfort and look up at him through messy stands of hair, “What, you’re not going back to enjoy your time with out me? I wouldn’t be so offended.”

He thinks to himself for a moment,

“I was waiting for you to get up.” His arms are crossed onto his chest now. His words are so effortless when he makes your heart jump.

“Zoro, it’s gonna take me a long time to get ready, how ‘bout you just go on ahead?”

You push away the hair covering your face to get a good look at his; his expression is borderline unreadable. It looks foreign on him.

It was all-knowing, it was up to no good. And you can only imagine what that meant.

“I’ll wait.”

-

So, Zoro waited the hour and a half for you to get ready, even though it meant that most of the day was already wasted. He insisted on taking you with him to the town you guys went to only yesterday, stating that it was simply because the crew wouldn’t let him hear the end of it had you both separated. It’s funny though, because you could swear that he was moving a bit differently than he was just yesterday. Whether good or bad, it was off-putting nonetheless. You’ve never seen him act this way.

After dabbling in his fair share of store-visiting to try to tie with yours (Spoiler: he did not.), it was already sunset, and he wanted to go to the bar, but you insisted that you didn’t want a repeat of last night. In his surprising obedience, he listened. You did, however, both meet in the middle for a late night food-grab and settled on a little hole-in-the-wall restaurant. You and Zoro quickly ordered and waited for the delicious meals that you knew you both were going to absolutely demolish.

You finally relaxed your form into the seat, taking advantage of the comfort you felt after walking around all day. You hardly exchanged a few words since you got into the restaurant, presumably because of how much time you spent together all day, so it was a surprise when Zoro opened his mouth to finally speak.

“Y’know, you talk a lot when you’re drunk.”

You halt in your comfort, God, you thought he was gonna forget about this already. Zoro teased you a lot but since you got on this island, it’s easily become relentless. And whatever your shenanigans were about last night were ground for it now.

In an effort to move away from the topic, “Hmm… yeah, don’t we all? Amirite? I’ve heard you say some crazy stuff when you were black-out drunk!” You laughed, lightly slapping the table to emphasize how “funny” it was. He seemed unfazed though, if anything, a little more confident in the words he would utter. His head was resting on his on the palm of his hand now, and that same smirk from earlier returned.

“Guessing none of them were love declarations, huh?”

Time stopped, save for your heart dropping down to your asshole.

Your eyes were wide, and you were praying to God that you misinterpreted the insinuation of what he just said.

“W-What do you mean?” He seemed so fascinated by the situation unraveling between the two of you, his grin never faltering. It was shocking, Zoro never really talked this much about nonsense, if you could call it that.

He chuckles at your shock almost sadistically, “You tried kissing my face the entire night and kept telling me how handsome I was, and how much you lo—”

“STOP!” Your hand not so subtly smacks his mouth shut, and the staff gives you both a weird look.

Great, now I’m making it everyone’s business!

You slowly remove your hand and try to avert your gaze elsewhere, while still fending for yourself. “I’m j-just a loving drunk... I-I guess…” The embarrassment is getting to be too much now, and whatever what you say at this point is just going to look like a lie, a big fat lie. And you wanna crawl into the nearest hole and die there. How can you even face the crew anymore? How can you look at him in the eye? Where’s the nearest exit so you can just run far, far away from him?! It seems like you’re plotting for the rest of how your life is gonna be from this point on, until he puts an end to your thoughts.

“C’mon woman. Get real. Why don’t you just face up to it? I see the way you look at me all the time. Drunk or not.” Zoro is leaned all the way back in his chair when you look up, his arms are crossed just how they were this morning. And you just want to melt into your chair at this point. Get away from anything and every thing that exists. Especially Zoro, if it wasn’t obvious. “God, you're naive, naive as hell.”

Embarrassment subsided for a moment, you sit there with your brows furrowed, now trying to piece together his new and probably much more embarrassing revelation. “…What? Why do you say that?”

He scoffs at you, “Y’Really gonna make me say it?”

What?

Zoro was never the articulate type and you respected that, but if there was an instance where you really hated his lack of speech; It was now.

For a split second, he looks a little conflicted on what he was going to say next. Like he was fighting the next words to come out of his mouth, his arms twitch a bit and he lets out a little sigh, shaking his head in what looks like defeat. But before you can say anymore; he gets out of his comfortable position, leans toward you and over the small table, grabs your shirt and…

Kisses you.

It was short, but Zoro thought he was going to die inside trying to build up the courage to say I love you instead. And this, this was so much better.

He would’ve mistook you for a tomato across from him when you sit back from his attack on your lips. He’s a little flustered himself, he does well to mask it, but it was worth your reaction. And since it was late at night the restaurant was almost dead at that point, with you both once again, sitting in the very back. So he wasn’t too crazy about who was watching.

“I’m… I… Um…” you’re trying so hard to get your words together. What the hell just happened. “I…”

Before you can say anything, you eat your words again. The server comes with your long anticipated dinner. He chooses to disregard the absolute mess you look, and some of your lipstick on Zoro’s mouth— and puts your food down onto the table.

“Enjoy you two lovebirds! My, what a beautiful couple you both make!”

LAW TRAFALGAR

The Polar Tang was full of energy today. In the dining hall, the crew sat down and talked the night away.

Penguin and Shachi were laughing it up and finding comfort in their drinks, you and Ikkaku talked about personal affairs over the amazing meal you shared, then Bepo joined in and you three all got a little too into some dumb gossip amongst another pair in the crew.

Safe to say everyone was having the night of their life. Something the Heart Pirates couldn’t do a lot.

All except your captain.

Always buried in his books and studies, Law claims that he wish he could have time to spend with you all, blasé blasé bla, but there was always an excuse that was thrown in your faces. Always. You respected his time and effort, it was something that not a lot of people could do.

So that’s why after your conversation with your friends was drawn to an end and they either resorted to drinking with the rest of the crew or just enjoying more talk, you decided to slip away for a moment. You didn’t know what possessed you to do this, (you did, you just wanted an excuse) but you fix up another plate and swiftly make your way towards your captains room. The food was delicious so, why not? What’s the harm?

The closer you got to his door is the more an anxiety rose in your chest, and your hands were getting a little shaky. There was nothing to be nervous about!

Just maybe seeing his handsome face focused so strongly on a certain text, the way his rough, calloused hand grips the pen so gently, or your favorite part— his parted and unbuttoned shirt, where you can see a window of his chest, not a lot but just enough to leave some imagination to how the rest of his tattooed body might look... And you stop yourself for a second, physically and mentally.

I’m being such a pervert right now.

You resume your slow and anything but steady walk to his quarters and you finally meet face to face with the door.

You pull your first up to knock after taking a very deep breath, but before your skin could touch the surface his voice is already urging you to step inside. And so you obey.

Once inside you immediately start to scan the sight before you, and it wasn’t much different from the one you had in your imagination. Of course this meant that you were a bit flustered coming to him, but you manage, “‘Just wanted to drop off some food for you, in case you couldn’t join us tonight.” You say with a little softness in your tone.

“Thank you. You can put it down on my desk.”

And you obey, again. Walking up to his desk full of papers and books/ You realize that it was a little messy and not clean enough to set the plate just anywhere, and his hands scramble through the paper to find a place for you to set the plate down until you finally do. Then, another thought emerges from your fantasy world.

“Do you need help organizing your desk, cap? I have some time and I don’t really feel like going to sleep anyways.”

He smiles softly at you and calls your name in a way that you wish you could hear over and over and over again, and he thanks you once more, “You’ve done enough for me tonight. I appreciate it.” You hide your disappointment in his words, but nod and make your way to the door anyway.

You exchanged your good night’s and make your way to your room. And when you fall back on your bed, you take your pillow and scream into it like a crazed schoolgirl in love.

-

The next morning comes, and you can guarantee that the crew has already started on breakfast. You rub your eyes and start to get cleaned up and fetch a new pair of clothes for the day.

Once you’re all freshen up, you make your way to the dining hall, surprised to hear no ruffling and noise. Maybe everyone was suffering the consequences of last nights drinking challenges, you thought. But even so, it wouldn’t be this quiet.

Your met with Law’s figure in the dining hall and he’s making tea for himself. He notices you, “You’re up really early.”

“Did you even get a wink of sleep?” You say in concern.

He’s silent for a few seconds, and he makes his way to the table to enjoy his freshly brewed drink. “I couldn’t.” Or more like he wouldn't.

You sigh, yup, that was your captain. You thought for a second, thinking about what you could do in order for him to feel better about his own consequences from a lack of sleep. But you know he would just decline most of your suggestions. Instead, you plop yourself in the seat across from him. You both sit in a comfortable silence while you waited for your coffee to be made, and you take a second to scan his tired features.

He does well to hide it in his mannerism, but his face betrays him. You can tell he's deathly tired, and if he let's his eyes close for more than a second you're sure he'd plop right onto the table.

“Take a picture, maybe it’ll last longer.”

You blink, and you blink again. “O-Oh, sorry…” he’s not offended, if anything his face is smug. You’re quick to defend yourself with a little scoff, “Can’t a woman be worried for her captain? You don’t look the best anyway.” You quickly cover your mouth, seriously, how dumb did you have to be?

But he only laughs at your remark, he shakes his head and his smug expression does not leave his face. “It’s a little hard to not point out when you do it all the time.”

“I do not!”

“Do too.”

“I don’t!”

“Don’t what?” Shachi comes into the room completely oblivious to what you guys were bickering childishly about. He’s rubbing his eyes, “Why are you both up so early? Especially you,” he points at you, “You drank a lot.”

You roll your eyes, you hardly drank. And now you were a little embarrassed at his public revelation, (though it was a secret to nobody but Law,) and your face grows a little red.

The rest of the crew gets up one by one and soon enough breakfast is served. You barely pick up your head anymore out of shame of your earlier dispute, if you could even call it that, with your captain. Bepo is talking about something he encountered a while back while on an adventure with Law, usually you’d be invested, but you were far too in your zone.

And so you get up and make your way to your room, the gloominess practically radiating off of you. Your absence is barely noticed due to the focus everyone had on Bepo’s story.

Law notices, though.

He excuses himself and Bepo gets a little upset, but he understands and respects his captain, so he resumes his dramatic story that keeps everyone on the edge of their seat. You, on the other hand, were now face flat on your pillow mumbling self-deprecating comments to yourself after the terrible situation you were just in.

That was so embarrassing. My captain hates me. It’s so obvious. Why do I do this to myself. Why did I think that was okay. I’m going to escape. (You were under water) This is dumb. I’m du—

*Knock Knock*

You lift your head up even though you didn’t want to, “No.” is all you could manage.

“It’s your captain.”

As much as you wanted to tell him to piss off and let yourself drown in the shame you felt, you couldn’t. Because at the end of the day, it was as your captain proclaimed, though you wanted it to be much more, there was nothing you could do. Nothing, especially after today's consequences.

After a bit of hesitance and a lot of hurt in your voice, you tell him, “You can come inside.”

He cracks the door open a smidge to further observe your well-kept room and there you were, lying on your stomach with your arms crossed, face laying against them and your eyes away from his. It wasn’t the most appropriate sight for your captain to walk in on, but you two were close enough for him to get comfortable enough to let the door open and let himself all the way into your room.

He walks towards you and pulls a chair over, turns it around and manspreads against it to take his seat-- and you really wanted to take in the sight completely, but even that wasn’t enough to get your mood back up and running.

“You left.”

“Why do you care?” You turn your head the opposite way facing the wall beside you. Law doesn’t say anything for quite some time and you can almost bet on your tears slipping soon. He was making this so much more worse than it had to be.

He calls your name, and you just wanna melt into the soft fabric beneath you. “Look at me.”

You disobey.

After your reluctance to his order, he draws out a sigh. You always were the most stubborn of the crew. So with this, he thinks long and hard on his next words or actions, and finally lands on one possible outcome.

“You leave me no choice.”

“Wha— Law!” He turns you around by your waist and forces you up with just one hand. Then, before you know it, your body is slung across his broad shoulder while he finds his bicep tight around your thighs. You were facing backwards while he carried you. “Now you’re calling me by name, no captain anymore?" he laughs, "I think I’ve gone too soft on you.”

“What are you doing!?” You say, trying to get out of his grasp, but even with all of your strength, he was no match for you. “Someone will see!”

“No they won’t. I’m taking you to my room.” He opens the door in one swift motion and kicks it in another.

“And you’re not explaining why!” You hit his back in defiance. You were halfway through the corridor to meet his room already, so you just give up.

He takes no time in entering his room, finally putting you down and ordering you to sit on a spare seat in the grand environment. You were insanely nervous at this point, taken aback by his sudden action and the intimacy of it all. He’s peering down at you with a seriousness in his gaze that makes you put your head down in the worst shame you’ve felt since you’ve woken up.

You always thought that maybe, you might have had a chance with him one day. All that was thrown out the window now.

And it's time to swallow your pride. You take a deep breath, and build a whole lot of courage, and:

“I’m sorry, for saying that about you in the dining hall. And getting smart with you. And calling you by your first na—”

“You’re really stubborn, did you know that?”

And there it is, you feel the tears build up once again, and it hurts. Because the firmness in his voice is always the same. So demanding and... so difficult for you.

“And I don’t know why I’m attracted to you. I don’t understand why I tolerate the things you do.”

You start crying now, because you don’t know what else to do. You don’t know the sincerity of his words, and you hold yourself in the chair that you sat on, trying your best to look away from him.

He walks towards you and gets on his knees in front of you, It was a little bit of a blow to his own pride, and it wasn’t something he would do for anyone else at all. But you were different. You’re still crying and you weakly try pushing him away and looking to the side and the new guilt starts to form itself inside of him, but he insists that he stays where he is. He’s whispers an I’m sorry before his hands find solace on your jaw while both of his thumbs wipe your tears away. You look down at him with the most beautiful eyes he’s seen, your gaze softens at him and your crying calms down a little bit seeing that he wasn't so serious anymore, but instead his expression was a little desperate.

-- He’s still got a lot to make up for, and he knows now was not the time to press you on anything else— there was nothing to press anyways. You were perfect, in every aspect of the word. He just enjoyed the idea of teasing you, not anyone else, but he took it too far.

When he was sure that you were more comfortable in his arms, he pulled you down and pushed the chair away. He takes you in his embrace and whispers his apologies into your ear so genuinely.

“This wasn’t the way I thought this would go.” He lets the thousandth sigh out of his mouth today. You look into his eyes with a questioning expression, “I mean that, I fucked it up.”

It was your turn to feel guilty again, but you were tired of words.

You just take his face in your hands just as he did not so long ago, and you both look at each other for a moment. His eyes look to your lips for a second, and if you didn’t know any better you would’ve thought he was just as eager as you, maybe he was. His lips inch towards yours and they take no time in meeting.

It’s slow, soft, sensual. And it takes a while for your mouths to part. When they do, all you can do is stare at each other.

You finally breathe, “Okay,” you face turns to the side to escape his beautiful one.

“Maybe all of that was pretty worth it.”

SANJI VINSMOKE

You’ve been avoiding Sanji all week.

And he can’t decide if he should talk to you about it or not, he’s leaning more towards the latter, just because he’s too into the nervousness that suddenly appears on your face when you’re in close proximity. Then; you’re scrambling to the nearest door and half-assing an excuse about where you need to be or what you need to do.

He personally loves when it’s breakfast, lunch, or dinner and he gets to not only cook your favorite meals and you can’t escape him, otherwise the crew would immediately worry for your absence. He also enjoys how embarrassed you get when you can feel him staring at you. Alas, he can’t stand the inability to talk to you and be in your unwanted presence anymore, he needed to make his move on you quick.

You see, earlier this week a battle occurred between you, Sanji, and an enemy that threatened the Thousand Sunny.

You and Sanji had both agreed to guard the ship while the rest of the crew had prepared their own duties on the foreign land, he insisted that there would be no good food supply and there was already enough stocked up from the last. It was a no-good devil fruit user, who wielded the ability to make its opponent confess a super big secret, to then throw them off completely, and defeat them. It was like a weak spot-- psychological warfare more so. And… he got you.

Can you guess what your secret was?

For certain, the devil fruit did its magic. And Sanji was surely taken aback, but adamant on defending the ship and more importantly, you, he did his part and tried with all his might to fight the bad guy off and made a mental note to immediately come find you afterwards.

You were close to passing out from shock after the bewildering confession, but when you came to, the blonde sat right beside you in a shit-eating grin, “So… you’re crushin’ on me, princess?” And you wanted to pass out again, but instead you just run for the ship and locking yourself in your room, ignoring his pleas to come back and talk about it.

Ever since that day, the atmosphere between you two had been a bit awkward. Conversations weren't as light and smooth, you tried finishing your food as fast as possible and managing a quick thank you before making a bee line to the girls room, and most importantly— everyone took notice of how distant you got from Sanji.

Usopp fell victim to the awkward encounters more often than the rest, and it was safe to say they were getting on his last nerve now. "Whatever you did, you should apologize, man!" He pats his back as a sign of encouragement. And for a second it almost felt like you and him were a married couple having problems, it brought a smile to his face.

Not to worry, he had a plan.

-

You joined Robin in a comfortable silence below the deck, praying to the heavens you wouldn’t hear from the blonde cook while the sun set so beautifully. Your original ploy was to just act like it never happened, but anytime you saw him it was like re-imagining the entire scenario over and over again.

Your head is hanging off the chair while you doze off and Robin is reading her book— appreciating your silence, the weather was just a little windy and the sky had a nice orange and red gradient to it. The waves were crashing against the boat but it wasn’t overbearing, it was just fine.

You asked Robin to read her book out loud, even though you weren’t following the storyline, you found comfort in her melodic voice and how softly she read it and sure enough she would be lulling you to sleep soon.

But before you could finally reach sleep like you intended, there’s a presence you can sense, and Robin puts her beautiful voice to a halt. You don’t want to open your eyes but it almost seems like you have to.

And you immediately regretted it.

Above you was Sanji. “Hi.”

“Sanji!” He moves a little back from you, and you straighten your posture, wide awake. “I was just leaving actually, I have to clean the girls room! I lost a bet a while back. So… I’m gonna go do that.”

“I don’t think that bet ever happened but, I’m not entirely opposed to you doing that for us.” Robin says smugly. You loved her but the betrayal on your face spoke volumes in that moment.

You’re already defeated and you’re trying to muster up another shitty excuse, “We can’t delay this anymore than we have.” He takes your hand and you can only burn eyes at the skinship. You’re lightheaded again, just like that day you confessed.

And he drags you into the kitchen with him before you can defy him a hundred times over, he locks the door to slow down your escape, and if anyone came in on the two of you.

He finally turns around to look at you with the most frustrated expression littered all over his face.

“Why are you avoiding me?” He asks you in desperation, and you kinda wanted to slap him out of your own mixed emotions, because it was pretty obvious as to why. He catches on shortly after, “Okay, scratch that. Why is it necessarily a bad thing that you have feelings for me?”

“Please Sanji, let’s just forget about i—”

“How do I forget something like that? Why are we holding this off? Are we just never gonna talk about it?” You sense some repressed anger boiling up inside of him, and to tell the truth you’ve never seen him speak to any woman like this, so raw and nothing to hold back. “Listen, the cat’s out the bag, right? What’s the point in hiding it if we both feel this way about each other?”

…

…

…

“You… felt the same way… and you’re just now telling me this?” You walk towards him, he looks away in shame.

“It’s not about how you feel towards me, I’m just not worthy of you. I don’t deserve you.” You push him out of sheer frustration, and he just lets you.

Sanji assumes you’ll just use him as your personal punching bag at this point with the amount of self-deprecating thoughts he’s already throwing at himself in his head, but all of them were replaced once you took him by the shoulders and pulled him into a powerful kiss. He was in shock, but he quickly melted into it, grabbing you by both sides of your face, and you pull away.

“All you did was tease me and taunt me and put me over the edge these past few days, for what? Just to reveal that you wanted me too?” You scoff, but your lips betray you. You lean back into the kiss and it’s so much more passionate than before. His hands find comfort in your hips.

After the kiss got a little too passionate, and Sanji already making his move on your neck, you all but gave into him. So willingly.

“You locked the door, right?” You ask.

He grins into the quick kiss, excited by your insinuation, “Yeah.”

meanwhile, on the deck

Chopper quickly becomes your replacement for Robin, although not as quiet, she does equally enjoy her time with you both.

Choppers stomach gives him away, “Robin, I’m hungry. Do you know if Sanji’s making dinner soon?”

Robin smirks, and pats Chopper on the head.

“He’s busy with something right now, I think it would be best if we didn’t bother him, either.”

[gumii-bearr]

idea maybes

academic rival/nerd satoru… him acting all high and mighty and then is an utter virgin (but you are tew so you too together are hopeless)

YESSSSSSSS HAHAHAHA

thinking about... ❝ hopeless nerds ❞

featuring... satoru gojo

content warning: MDNI (18+), afab!reader, nerd!virgin!gojo, nerd!virgin!reader, academic rivals, two dorks, gojo is such an asshole, smut, creampie, praise kink, masturbation, inexperienced dorks tryna bang, dare i say crybaby dom gojo, sexual tension, somnophilia, sexually frustrated nerds

author's note: im sorry i haven't posted in a while!!!! my town has flooded and we've lost power a few times and i can't leave my house :,)

── nerd!gojo immediately pissing you off the moment he opens his fucking mouth.

── nerd!gojo who shares a few classes with you and he's always talking over you, has to prove your points wrong even when you back them up with facts and research.

── he does it to make you mad, you know he does. he does it because it's so easy to make you mad and it's fucking cute how your nose scrunches and how you fold your arms over your chest and give him the cold shoulder the rest of the lesson.

── "fuck you, satoru."

── "oh you wish, sweetheart."

── nerd!gojo who purposely sits next to you in class because he knows his presence drives you up the wall.

── he points out holes in your research, steals your pens off your desk, leans on your shoulder and stays there no matter how much to elbow his side, there is no peace with him.

── nerd!gojo who is tied for best grade in the class with none other than you. and fuck it makes him mad, though he would never admit it.

── nerd!gojo who teases you when you're even a single point behind him when you get your grades back.

── nerd!gojo who never hears the end of it when you do better than him on a test or essay.

── nerd!gojo who may find you annoying, but he also finds your competitiveness and smart-ass demeanour fucking hot.

── you're the only person to ever one-up him. give him a run for his place as the smartest guy in class.

── you're single-handedly his motivation to do better in class. not because he wants to, but because he needs to win.

── you're so smug when you win and you're so hot-headed when you don't. he starts to find it fucking confusing when you bicker with him or insult his intelligence and he finds it... hot.

── you could be calling him every colourful name under the sun and he would just stand there and take it with a shit-eating grin plastered across his face and his eyes peeking over his sunglasses and staring at your pretty lips.

── nerd!gojo who is also virgin!gojo, which you would never have guessed with how he holds himself– always so outwardly confident and always has soooo much to say.

── virgin!gojo who has maybe kissed two girls his whole life, forced to hole himself up in his dorm and fist his cock when he's so beyond frustrated.

── virgin!gojo who finds himself starting to think about... you.

── virgin!gojo who thinks about burying his virgin cock inside you, fucking you stupid on his cock since you always seem to have something to say.

── you find it fucking weird when he doesn't shoot back with a sarcastic comment one morning, his eyes unable to meet yours.

── now you know something's wrong because it always makes gojo's day when he sees your face flush and watches you stomp around all angry and annoyed at him.

── virgin!gojo who doesn't know what to do when he's cornered by you in the library, and for the first time, he sees you be genuine toward him.

── "aw, you care about me."

── "you know what? forget it."

── virgin!gojo who knows he needs to just shut his big mouth for once and he finally does– by slamming you against the closest bookshelf and messily kissing you like his life depends on it.

── virgin!gojo who realises he's super out of practice when it comes to kissing... or maybe you're both bad.

── virgin!gojo who panics when he gets you back to his dorm room, clumsy fingers pulling your clothes off while you nervously pull at his.

── it's slow and it's messy and there's very obviously an elephant in the room that neither of you want to address.

── but you finally bite the bullet.

── "i'm a virgin."

── "you telling me no one's ever wanted to fuck that bitchy attitude out of you?"

── "don't piss me off."

── virgin!gojo who admits he too is a virgin.

── the two of you acknowledge that there's been a sexual tension brewing between you two for a while... so maybe you should just fuck it out.

── virgin!gojo who sinks to his knees, throwing your thighs over his shoulders and pressing his curious tongue against your soaked slit.

── no one's ever touched you like that– you're getting riled up just seeing him between your thighs.

── virgin!gojo who is finally fucking quiet and lets you show him when you guide him on how to finger you. you show him where to touch you, how to touch you, where to lick and suck on you.

── and virgin!gojo who listens and he's a fast learner because he wants to please you.

── and when virgin!gojo finally sinks his huge fucking cock inside you. you nearly fucking scream.

── and virgin!gojo who has no idea he's big. no one's ever seen his cock, or felt it. he's had nothing to compare it to–

── "you're so fucking big."

── "oh, yeah? you like it, baby?"

── virgin!gojo who didn't think he'd like dirty talk as much as he does. but he likes how you whine and moan just from his voice, how he can rile you up and have you soaking his dick and the sheets just from telling you what a good girl you are.

── but also virgin!gojo who is a fucking whiner when he's getting close to his high. your virgin cunt is so warm and tight, he's never experienced such fucking bliss.

── he's whining about how good you feel, how he's never felt something so fucking mind-blowing. he just keeps fucking talking cus if he doesn't he's gonna cum.

── and virgin!gojo who fucking cries when he cums because he's on cloud fucking nine. his hips slap erratically, his thrusts are shallow and fast as he approaches his high and his fists curl into the sheets by your head to keep him grounded.

── and you just wrap your arms around his neck, hold him close as he breathes in your intoxicating scent, arms wrapped around you as he keeps his cock buried inside you alongside the ropes of cum he messily spilled inside you.

── and nerd!gojo who keeps his cock buried inside you all night, unable to part from your tight warmth.

── and you don't mind, you just pet his hair and tell him how good he did.

── and of course, nerd!gojo who wakes you up with quiet breathes by your ear, his hips slapping against your plush ass because he can't get enough of you.

── nerd!gojo who makes it his mission to make you cum. obsessed with watching you fall apart on his tongue and his fingers, or on his cock or his thigh.

── really just nerd!gojo who finds out a lot about himself and is no longer virgin!gojo because of you.

author's note: someone bring me a NERD RIGHT NOW

permanent taglist: @exclusiverinaa @starpachinko @kentotism @gumisueme @arcanefeelings @cyslips @sojumamii @naammiii @jvpit3rr @nvvxlaya @2ukika @ashyiiy @jud3thedude @antiblfanon14 @capsule-losing-contact @mrs-okkotsu222 @somethinglikero @raya4643 @julieannah @arasakaa @luciferslover @re-tired-succubus @xastoriaaurax @girlexpensive @sobbingscripter @bakuhoe37 @doechiiyz @evergumi @showtimejoseph @kimkimoruo

[maxisodenoth]

Oops, forgot to block.

But anyways, it seems like you don't understand.

Let me put it like this for you.

You have been provided links with proof [that I'm sure you didn't even touch.] And instead of bringing up any point related to them you stick to your same arguments.

I asked you a simple yes or no question, and you seem to have taken it personally. It doesn't matter to me what you think the answer is, because the answer is always no. An infertile woman is just as much of a woman as any other. We are what we want to be. Your words mean nothing to me, and other peoples identity. [which let me remind you *again* that you've been provided links in the comments which explain this stuff better than I ever could]

[And let me tell you something. Just because we can't have kids right now doesn't mean it'll remain that way in the future. I believe that something will be figured out later in the future that will allow trans-people to be able to reproduce with their new reproductive apparatuses. Whether that takes years or decades doesn't matter. It'll happen.]

You used word meanings as "arguments". May I remind you that, words were created far before any research was done on this matter? [Not exaclty sure when or how much words change but I'm almost sure it's a pretty slow process, so they might be a bit or alot outdated. Not sure though.] And that maybe instead of etymology, you should be looking at psychology, and biology? [Links in the comments~] Trying to use words meanings as arguments doesn't really work out that well when we're not talking about words but people.

[And by the way. Where is your evidence? You've been provided links explaining this stuff, yet when pressed, you only choose to go to ... a dictionary? Really?]

[Also, since you've stooped into insults let me get in on that action.]

Why do you care so much? Like really. Why does this matter that much to you? Are you that miserable that the only joy you get is by hating on other people being themselves and happy?

Look, I know it's hard to find a purpose in life, or a job, but it'd be alot easier if you stopped being a prick and just let people be themselves. There's no reason to hate people who literally don't affect you in any shape or form. They're just being themselves. Cope. [Your final reminder that there are links in the comments!~]

Or do you just refuse to grow up and understand that it doesn't matter what you say. People will be themselves and happier than you will ever be?

I am not a debator. I'm just some angry penguin on the internet. I have left my piece here. And I won't forget to block this time. May this be the last time I see your miserable blog on my feed.

And for everyone else who comes across this post, trans or otherwise. Your identity is Valid. You know yourselves better than some stranger on the internet. Or anyone who's not you. Because it's Your Identity. Not these peoples.

Do not let the hateful words of bigots make you feel bad about youself. You are the only one who can choose your identity. Not some idiots on the internet. You. And let me say this again Your identity is always valid. No matter what others say. ❤️

Goodbye. 👋

[Even if you reply to this, I'm not wasting anymore of my time on you John. You've been given links, read them. The same goes for any asshole who wants to start another argument. I do not care for you. Find someone else to deal with your bullshit.]

Facts matter. #VoteBlue

[sc0tters]

Loved You Forever | Luke Hughes

summary: four times you and luke knew you both wanted more, the one time a move was made, and the one time you both actually remembered it.

request: yes/no

warnings: underaged drinking (if you're american), minimal swearing.

word count: 6.16k

authors note: happy February loves! I realised that this might have been a better valentines day piece but too late? I am actually in love with this piece though and it was seriosuly so much fun to do another 5+1 thing and I'm pretty sure that this is my first proper attempt at it. I am nothing but a slut for best friends to lovers with Luke! After the loss tonight I think we all deserved something sweet so I also think this might be one of my first attempts at tooth rooting of sweet?

Luke had been in your life for as long as you could have remembered. 

The two of you met during a day at the park, you had been desperate to be on the seesaw but as your siblings got caught up with Jack and Quinn it left you alone, sat on the one side all by yourself “can I join?” Luke asked pointing at the seat that was in the air. 

A grin spread across your face “you wanna sit with me?” You asked almost not believing him “yeah you seem sad.” It seemed that it was all it took for your friendship to be formed. 

Hours were spend on that seesaw over the autumn months as you got to know him. You were no longer the sad lonely girl to him, now you were the fun and chatty one who had a dog. 

𝟏

You had been a bundle of nerves the entire week. 

In the week leading up to prom your dress was in need of alterations and your date had decided that going with the captain of the cheer team was far better suited to his taste than you. Your curling iron had also decided the morning of prom that it was going to stop working.

So while you felt like the world was against you, Luke decided to step him. He had gotten Ellen to drop off a brand new one courtesy of him of course, with a note saying that he couldn’t want to see you that night. 

The moment that he learnt about you no longer having a date he changed his own plans, well first he actually did a happy dance because now you were single which he appreciated. But then he told the hockey boys that he was breaking from the pact of going as a group. At first they all gave him stick, but when they learnt it was for you they understood. 

Because even if you were totally off limits and so clearly Luke’s girl, they all had eyes as a hormonal teen boy. And you were a total package. 

So that was how Luke ended up on what was a date but didn’t feel like it because he felt like your second choice, even if he had never been the one to ask you in the first place. Gosh he had seen all of the cringey proposals online but he knew you would have loved one of those. Something to laugh about afterwards that could be cherished as a memory forever.

Jim placed his hand on Luke’s shoulder pulling him out of this thoughts “you okay bud?” He asked cocking his head as he furrowed his eyebrows “I’m good.” Luke nodded “just worried about the time.” It was a lie but it was enough to take the attention off of him and his thoughts.

Your mom looked at her watch “y/n are you coming down anytime soon!” She called up the stairs fearing that you’d end up late and miss the limo that your friends had arranged after pictures. 

You turned down your music as you rolled your eyes. In your opinion you weren’t late, just pulling everything out of your drawers because you couldn’t find the perfect earrings to go with your dress “yeah, yeah I’ll be down there!” You yelled back focusing on what you were doing. 

Luke stood between his parents and yours “sorry about her.” Your mom apologised as she softly shook her head, knowing that this was how you were “it’s okay I mean she’s.” Luke was lucky he was cut off because it meant that he didn’t have to come up with an end to his statement. 

“I’m ready!” Your words traveled down to the group causing all of their heads to turn to your bedroom door. You were right by the top of the staircase so there wasn’t much of a walk for you before your dress was revealed in all its glory “wow.” Luke thought he had said it softly enough for nobody to hear. But the smile on Jim’s face said it all, he knew his son was in love as he watched you twirl all excited for him to finally see the dress.

The red dress hugged every part of your body that you wanted it to. And now with the alterations your slit showed the right amount of leg, it was enough to look hot but not enough to the point where the dress wouldn’t have been appropriate for a high school prom.

Luke felt his throat grow dry seeing you at the top of the stairs, with a smile painted on your face. You looked gorgeous, in every sense of the word as you radiated this glow that encapsulated your body. 

His hands grew sweaty, gripping at your corsages packaging. Watching you walk down the stairs, the sounds of your mom in awe with your dad taking pictures turned to background noise. Luke couldn’t understand how you were panicking about your hairstyle to him at lunch all week, because it seemed like it was made for you. 

You stopped on the final step holding your hand out to Luke, enjoying the moment of him in his navy blue suit. It was easy to see that he had just had his hair cut, but you weren’t going to make a comment about it as you appreciated the effort. 

Sure you wouldn’t have cared if Luke showed up in jeans and his crocs, but he knew how important the night was to you so he made it important to him. His hand was soft against yours as he helped you down the final step “you look-” he cut himself off, opting to take the chance to bask in your beauty once more. 

It made you rub your lips together nodding in agreement “you too.” The sight made Ellen place her hand on her heart. Her youngest son here stood tall and all cleaned up, in front of the girl that his parents wished he’d date. 

Luke let out a soft gasp remembering that he was still holding your corsage “this is yours.” He scratched the back of his neck nervously, hoping you’d like it “it’s so pretty Lukey.” You held the plastic container in your hands pulling out the pink arrangement. 

You handed it back to him “put it on f’me will ya?” You asked watching him nod “sure.” He obliged your request seeing how pretty it looked with your manicured nails. 

Your eyes shone looking at it “it’s perfect.” You confessed leaning up to kiss his cheeks “thanks, Lukey.” You gave his arms a squeeze before you settled back in front of him. 

He prayed his cheeks didn’t betray him as they felt warm “anytime.” Luke honestly would have done anything to bring that smile out and for you to kiss his cheeks again. Even as he hoped he’d be lucky to kiss you properly one day, he prayed that this wasn’t the last time he’d get to feel one of your kisses. 

𝟐

Your high school graduation was not what you expected it to be. Sure you expected to be a little emotional leaving the place that had helped shape you into the person you were set to become. It was the place where Luke cemented his life long place as your best friend. 

You held your diploma in your hand as you searched through the crowd for him “y/n!” Luke cheered causing you to whip around. 

His smile matched yours as you let out a squeal before you ran into his arms. You almost knocked him over as you laughed “someone’s excited ‘eh?” He let out a soft laugh settling you back on your feet. 

He had spent a portion of his afternoon wishing he told you how pretty you looked “I mean how can I not be we have like properly graduated.” If you looked back at the memory now you would have laughed, you felt so prepared for the big world when in actuality you were still so young with so much more growing to do. 

Luke smiled “I mean we always knew you were going to.” Brains had always been your thing, much more than Lukes at least.

You looked at the athletics band around his shoulders “and you got this.” You toyed with the ends of it in your hands “I think we both should be proud today.” You had succeeded in your own fields, reminding each other why you did so well as friends because you were so different.

Luke could see that something else was on your mind “what is it?” He asked, seeing that there was a glimmer of excitement like you were trying to hold back a bomb of importance. You felt like a child who had been trying their best to hold off on telling the secret they promised their parents that they would keep to themselves. 

You pulled the grad cap off of your head as you took in a deep breath “remember how I told you that I wasn’t sure where I was going because of those scholarship applications?” You were the more academically inclined out of the two of you, to the extent that you did have a good chance to get some scholarships. 

This was why you hadn’t decided where exactly you were going, so Luke hadn’t been told of any of the places that had accepted you. This was the first and last time that you were ever going to be holding a secret from him, the last few weeks felt like your very own definition of torture “so you remember how we applied to some of the same schools?” You asked, reminding him that three schools appeared on both of your lists. 

He nodded, raising his eyebrows and urging you to continue, “well one of those schools was UMich, and I got in.” Luke let out a gasp, knowing exactly where this conversation was about to go “yes?” He urged you to carry on so he didn’t celebrate prematurely. 

You rubbed your lips together “well how do you feel about getting an apartment roomie?” It had been a conversation since you were both eight years old, if you went to uni together, then you were going to be roommates to some degree. 

Luke finally allowed himself to cheer as he pulled you into a hug. He spun you around as he let himself celebrate the news “I can’t believe that we are staying together.” He was honestly in shock as he finally placed you back on the ground. 

In the distance stood your mom and Ellen, who watched the interaction unfold in front of them “I wonder if this is what they need to take a step forward.” Everyone but the two of you knew about the undeniable feelings between you both. They knew it was asking for a lot, though, because you two had been around each other for so long that maybe it just wasn’t meant to be and maybe that was okay. 

Ellen smiled as she watched Luke grab your hand before he pulled you into a group of people “I think that maybe they are only going to be friends.” She let out a sigh as the words left her lips. Boy did she hope that the two of you proved her wrong.

𝟑

Luke had yet to come down from the high that was being drafted to the same team as Jack. He was absolutely ecstatic and having you there too was the perfect moment for him. His family had all come along and they mixed with his friends, every one of his supporters were in that room. 

He almost got emotional when he thought about it because none of you had to come, not to the bar afterwards and not to the draft itself either. But when his name was called by the New Jersey Devils Luke just remembered pulling you into this hug as Jack hit his back in excitement.

You were his absolute best friend and world so it was never a surprise that Luke hugged you first but still fans had been going on about how Luke basically blanked his future teammate at first. People who followed Luke’s days at Michigan knew who you were, if someone listened to Luke talk for long enough you were brought up in a conversation. And it wasn’t that it was weird for him but it was because you did everything with him so away from the ice, you were attached to every memory.

But for the people who hadn’t paid attention, you were the mystery girlfriend in their eyes. So you were also now the new target of everyone’s Instagram searches. Their comments to you saying they wished they were Luke’s girlfriend made you laugh, because you felt the same way. His name had been circled with hearts in the corners of your notebook pages. They were left in the math and English books because you knew that was where Luke would never have looked.

Luke would never have admitted it aloud but he knew whenever you weren’t in a room. The sound of your laugh burning at his ears, how you seemed to radiate this sense of light and warmth that could be felt through the room. He had been caught up in a conversation with his parents friends when he had lost that feeling. 

It was clear to them that Luke had his mind somewhere else, or well they knew it was with someone else so they let him go. You were nowhere to be seen as his eyes scanned the crowded bar “she’s out front I think Lukey!” Jack slurred his words clearly drunk but still knowing all too predictable his younger brother was. 

Luke felt his cheeks grow warm as his eyes went wide “relax dude, just go to her.” Jack laughed as he rolled his eyes, not caring about it before he went off again. 

He tried to make it subtle to anyone who watched but Luke headed straight for the door where he of course found you. You were still in his devils cap as he put it on you when he finished his media interviews. An awful attempt at a joke was made when he said that you could be a player now too.

It looked so good on you as he smiled “there you are.” It was like a weight off of his shoulders when he found you. 

You were in your own little world before you looked at him “shouldn’t you be inside?” You asked as you cocked your head “this is a party for you after all.” Luke rolled his eyes, turning the cap around so that he could see your face not covered by the lid of the cap. 

He leaned against the wall next to you “I wanted to be with you though.” You blushed at the words, your hand reached for his “I just wanted a bit of air is all.” You explained putting his mind at ease as he had worried that you were overwhelmed. 

You licked your lips “I’m proud of you tonight.” The confession made his ears ring as his head felt fuzzy “all I did was get drafted.” Luke always was one to downplay his achievements, but you never let him succeed.

A laugh escaped from you lips “Lukey you were drafted fourth and to your brothers team.” You reminded him in a duh tone “you’re actually gonna be an NHL player now.” It had been his dream for as long as he could speak, from the moment you turned seven it even had a space on your vision board cementing itself in the right hand corner. That’s how much you knew he was getting into the big leagues.

Luke looked up at the night sky before he let out a sigh “god everything is going to change isn’t it?” He chewed at the inside of his cheek feeling your eyes piercing into his soul.

The words echoed in your ears as you pushed off of the wall before you stood in front of him. Things didn’t need to change, in fact you didn’t want them to. 

You smiled as you held your pinky out to him “what is this?” He asked mimicking your movements “a promise that I will always be with you.” Your voice was sweet as you nodded. 

Luke knew he was wrong but part of him thought about how beautiful you looked in the light, how kissable your lips looked too “forever and ever?” Luke cocked his head letting a grin spread across his lips. 

Your heart throbbed at the thought, you wanted Luke around for all that time and more “forever and ever.” You agreed locking your pinky into his before you both kissed your thumbs. 

The gesture seemed small but it was something that you both could agree on. For you and Luke, it meant that the promise was written in the stars as if you had written it on sand. With every passing wave that came in with the tide, the message still stood. 

𝟒

Luke hated the fact that he was leaving soon. He knew that his time with you at university was always going to have an expiration date, but he never thought it was going to come so soon. 

You two spent all of your life together, often moving within six months of the other. So now if he really was leaving you then it felt like this was the last time. 

Your paths had always been one of the same, with both of you never straying far away from the other. Luke had gotten so used to you being around that the only person who he was worried about leaving was you. 

Life had always been the y/n and Luke party that he didn’t know how you were going to react if he left you “what’s going on in that mind of yours?” You asked finding him sat by himself. 

He smiled seeing you stumble in his direction “I am just thinking.” He confessed watching you sit on his lap, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. 

A giggle escaped from your lips “ain’t that dangerous.” Those words made him scoff as his eyebrows furrowed. 

You seemed so care free in that moment, it made him envy you. How did it all seem so easy for you as he felt like his head was barely above water, drowning with worry “I am kidding.” You rubbed his cheek against your thumb “what are you thinking about?” You asked urging him to let you into his thoughts. 

Your hand squeezed his cheek reminding him that you were there for him “what if I don’t make the right call going.” Luke felt that a weight was lifted off of his shoulders letting that confession slip “I think that the universe is going to put you in the best position for you long term.” You truly believed that everything happened for a reason, so if the agent did come and ask Luke to join the devils like you knew they would, then it was the right thing for him.

It seemed that you always knew what to say to him “and what do you think I should do-” Luke hugged you not taking a chance to let him finish “you are going.” You stopped him from trying to hug you. 

He raised his eyebrows “I am?” Your tone made him think you were going to be forcing him onto that plane if you had to. 

Luke ran his fingers through your hair “y’know I’m happy that you’re going.” Your confession made him furrow his eyebrows “you are?” He cocked his head as he had of course told you all about the possibility of being signed the moment he learnt the agents were coming to Florida. 

You nodded sending him a smile “I mean this had been your dream like forever and Jack will be happy to have you there.” Your explanation calmed his heart, practically brushing the worries from his mind “and how do you feel about it?” The two of you were feeling a little more open tonight as you had a bit too much vodka sprite in your system to think clearly. 

A sigh escaped your lips “honestly I’m gonna miss you.” It was the first time you actually admitted that “but it makes me so happy that you get to live out your dream.” Your hand ran along his shoulder. 

A smile formed on his face “I love you.” He blurted out unaware of the ramifications it could have had “I love you too.” You mumbled kissing his cheek. 

Luke frowned knowing that you didn’t acknowledge what he meant, he was in love with you. 

𝟓

Christmas with the Hughes family was something that you had always loved. It seemed to be a family tradition for you too as you always seemed to crack a nod to the event. 

Selfishly you loved that it was in Michigan, the short drive from campus meant that it was where you spent the first half of your Christmas break. Your parents came down to them and then brought you back home afterwards and it was the perfect little routine. 

This Christmas felt particularly refreshing as you had missed Luke, it was the first Christmas since he made the move to New Jersey and it meant that you two were forced to pack everything into the days he had off. Years of perfectly crafted Christmas traditions forced into three days that you usually put into two weeks. 

The days felt jam packed not that you or Luke cared, the only time you weren’t with each other was when you went to the bathroom. Nights he had home were spent talking to you until the sun played peek a boo in the curtains. 

Christmas night was by far your favourite highlight though, matching sweaters with Luke and eating so much that you were in a food coma. But this year something felt different, you couldn’t put your finger on it and part of you didn’t want to acknowledge it. 

You were never one to push out of your comforts and you just assumed that Luke would share the details of his life if he wanted to “will you excuse me for just a sec?” You asked cutting off one of Quinn’s old friends as you saw Luke heading up the stairs. 

The boy shot you a smile and motioned to you to go. Nobody ever needed to look hard into the relationship, you looked at Luke like he was the man who made the moon and the stars that sprinkled around the universe. It may not have been the case but he was the light of your universe and the stars of your eyes. 

Jack and Quinn couldn’t help but watch, softly elbowing each other as they knew it was only you and Luke up there “think they’re finally gonna do it?” Jack asked sipping at the eggnog from his cup. 

Quinn pursed his lips together “I think it’s been a little too long for that.” The captain craved to be proven wrong, this was probably the first and the last time he touch of that really.

You saw Luke on his phone “hey,” your voice was soft wanting to check up on him “oh hi.” Luke smiled turning around to see you. 

His phone got tucked into his back pocket “thought you were going to still be downstairs.” He added, having had watched you talk away with that boy most of the recent hour. 

But you shook your head “I wanted to check on up on you.” The act was something meant to be innocent, like it always was. Because you cared for him, this was the what you were meant to do, and what you had always done.

It made him smile “look if you want a quiet day tom-” you were almost immediately cut off “I actually just want to spend time with you alone.” Luke explained making your heart feel so full. 

You loved the way that he had with words even if you envied him, it made it so much easier falling in love with him “so you wanna stay up here for a bit?” The request made you nod, taking his hand with a squeeze as the two of you took the three step walk to his room.

His door opened letting the mistletoe drop from the frame that was only seen when the lights turned on, causing your eyes to go wide “shit.” Luke grumbled as it sat between the two of you. It was like a sign from the universe, begging for one of you to put it out of its misery. 

The mistletoe stood above the two of you, shining like it was sent from the gods to put you both out of your misery “we don’t have to.” Luke felt his jaw go slack, not wanting to make you uncomfortable as you stared up at the leaf fixture “Jack thought it was funny to put it there.” He added remembering how he was actually planning on removing it the night before. 

Oh how different that night would have turned out if he had. 

A dry laugh left your lips “who are we to go against an age old tradition?” You asked letting your eyes lock onto his “are you sure?” Luke studied how plump your lips were and god he just wanted to kiss them. 

You ran your fingers over the knitted fabric that was your Christmas sweater “I feel like I should be asking you that?” You shot back slightly raising your eyebrows as you felt that he was trying to tell you something in a softer way. 

Oh god no, he thought to himself shaking his head “I do wanna kiss you!” The panic escaped in his voice, doing little to help his nerves as his heart and mouth betrayed his brain “but only if you want to kiss me too.” The boy straightened his shirt with a cough attempting to block the embarrassment that  came over his cheeks. 

You smiled with a nod “I wanna kiss you Lukey.” Your head buzzed as you drunk one too many vodka cranberries that night.

His hand cupped your cheek as he nodded “and we agree that this won’t make anything awkward right?” His words made you roll your eyes. Sure you knew he was being cautious and you should have appreciated how much he cared for your feelings, but god you just wanted to kiss him.

So that’s what you did, you wrapped your arms around his neck so that you could bring him down to you. The move took the boy by surprise as he steadied himself placing his other hand on your hip. His lips were rough against yours, reminding you that you needed to buy him a chapstick he’d actually like. 

Luke always knew that your lips were going to taste good, but he never could have predicted that you could have taste that sweet. It caused this buzzing sense in his head that only stopped when you pulled away just as the sound of footsteps came from the stairs “oh good mom you found it!” Quinn called out going back downstairs. 

You drank in the sight of Luke, your lip gloss shone on his lips as he fiddled with his hair “I guess we should go back down?” Luke asked with a shrug as you nodded “maybe just-” you brought your thumb to his lip. Brushing your finger against his lip to collect the product from his lips “there.” You took a step back with a smile seeing that there was now no evidence of the fact that you had kissed him. 

The only issue with this kiss was that neither one of you would remember it. Well you both it, but because it was what you had longed for, it felt like a dream. And with the fear of rejection creeping up your neck like an uncontrollable rash, it was best to keep it all to yourselves. 

Because after all how does one ask someone if they really did kiss last night?

+𝟏

The crackling noises of the burning wood echoed in your ears as you stared at the campfire “you should talk to her.” Quinn’s voice was soft, somehow still startling Luke who stood by the cooler. 

His hand gripped at the new beer can “why would I do that?” Luke asked, adjusting his gaze to make out that he wasn’t looking at you “are we seriously going to do this again?” Quinn couldn’t help but let out a laugh. 

He had spent what felt like Luke’s whole life watching the both of you dance around your feelings. Luke’s lips turned upright into a smile at the sound of your laughter, which made his heart bloom with joy, but that was short-lived when he saw Jack being the cause of what you found so funny. 

Luke’s lips were quickly forced into a thin line as his hand tightened around his drink “Luke, Jack is the last guy that she would ever go for.” Quinn reminded his brother, placing his hand on his taller brothers back. 

It made the Devils player furrow his eyebrows “you don’t know that.” Everyone in fact knew that, Jack was the kind of man that you would have ended up killing if you had to live with him for the rest of your life. Hell even Luke knew it, but he was willing to forget about the logic. He never seemed ready to acknowledge that there was a chance you could like him back.

A whine escaped your lips “y’know lying is just mean right?” You sunk back into your chair “yeah well I ain’t lying.” Jack shot back rolling his eyes. 

You clearly didn’t believe the boy as your arms crossed “fine look at them right now and if he isn’t then I will shut up.” Jack clasped his hands together as if a lightbulb had turned on above him. You sighed sending him a nod as you turned your body back to the porch, allowing your eyes to scan the area for Luke. The boy cut himself off in the conversation with Quinn when your eyes locked with his “this means nothing.” You mumbled still in denial. 

It honestly should have been so obvious to you both, I mean everyone around you both noticed but the two of you.

The night carried on with you trying to ignore Jacks comments as Luke did the same. Cole let out a yawn as he blinked “I think it is time for bed.” He announced placing his hands in his thighs as he got up watching a few of the guys agree with him.

As the last two besides for you and Luke, Quinn patted Jacks shoulders “why don’t we head up to bed too?” He asked, barely giving his younger brother a chance to say no. Jack was pulled up as he sent you both a salute “don’t stay up too la-” his tease was cut off when Quinn slapped his hand over Jacks mouth. 

Luke watched Quinn and Jack walk back into the house before he turned back to see you smiling at him “what?” Luke asked pushing his curls out of his eyes. 

He worried that he had something on his face “why don’t you come sit with me?” You offered, patting the camping chair next to you. It felt weird having him sat on what felt like the other side of the fire, he was way too far away from you for your own liking “do I have to?” Luke let out this dramatic sigh letting you know he was messing with you as he got up. 

It was nice just being alone with him away from just your bedroom. Since he moved to New Jersey you really did appreciate the one on one time that you got with him “I’m glad you came this year.” Luke confessed finally taking his place in the chair next to you. 

You rested your head against the back of your chair “I’ll always come for you.” Your hand reached for his wanting to reassure him “unfortunately for you the return policy on this friendship is long expired so you’re like really stuck with me.” You spoke in a serious tone that made him laugh. 

Luke squeezed your hand “darn I was just figuring out how to write my reason for returning ya.” You reached out to hit him “and what was that going to be?” You cocked your head running your tongue along your teeth as you smirked. 

He felt his heart pound sitting closer to you “don’t think it makes a lot of sense yet.” Luke shook his head, not having an actual answer for you. 

The crackle of the fire served as the perfect background noise “well you’ve got to speak now or else you might really be stuck with me.” You pointed out sticking your tongue out at him making the boy grin as he shook his head. 

Truthfully he was never going to return you, hell it was going to have to be you returning him if anything. Even then he was not going to leave you without a fight to stay.

Luke ran his fingers along your jaw “I think coming to Jersey would be good for you.” He knew it was one of your options for what you’d do after you graduated “oh god are we gonna be those friends who end up living next to each other and raise their kids together?” You laughed opting to cover the nerves that coarsed through your veins. 

It made the boy shake his head “can I tell you something?” He asked sucking at his teeth “you know you can tell me anything.” You nodded ignoring how close your face was to his. 

Luke could hear Jack and Quinn in his mind screaming at him to finally stop being such a baby and just tell you how he felt “and it can’t change our friendship.” You now grew worried at words “you’re scaring me.” That was also what Luke didn’t want. 

So before he dug himself into a hole he just decided to jump off of the decision cliff he was on “I like you.” The words escaped from his lips “so when you talk about us living next to each other with our families it’s not nice.” He shook his head watching you listen.

But he didn’t stop there “and it kills me that you don’t feel the same-””you think I don’t like you?” You asked letting out a laugh as he nodded. 

You threw your head back shaking your head “oh god Luke I’m mad about you.” The words were meant to be innocent but they lit a fire under his ass “but then why do you talk about us raising separate families together?” Luke scoffed almost thinking that this was a dream and you were joking. 

But still it was your turn to explain to him “I thought that it was all I’d get.” You shrugged feeling your cheeks grow warm. 

Under the moonlight as the fire illuminated your face, you looked beautiful “can I kiss you?” The question was something you had wanted to hear for such a long time now “yeah.” You nodded with a grin dropping your head as he cupped your cheek so that you could kiss him. 

The kiss had you swearing that fireworks should have been going off around you guys. The boy was sweet letting the taste of whatever lipgloss you wore make him feel drunk. Was it vanilla? Or maybe even cherry? Well he didn’t really care, it taste good and he was getting to kiss you.

Jack and Quinn stood in the kitchen watching with smiles on their faces “who would have thought that it would take them this long to finally get together?” He laughed shaking his head “I am just glad that we don’t have to put up with another summer of these two and their puppy dog glances.” Quinn shuddered at the thought, mentally cringing at the idea of having to listen to Luke psych himself out of telling you how he felt. 

But what both boys forgot, was that when you have been in love with someone for so long, when you finally get them you enjoy it “oh god.” Jack slapped his hand over his mouth watching Luke pull you onto his lap. 

His hands cupped your ass, deepening the kiss as you were addictive to Luke “and just like that it got weird.” Quinn announced listening to Jack agree as they shut the blind of the kitchen window, opting to finally give you both some privacy. 

[vatelixx]

Ton 618,

S3-S4ish Spencer Reid x Reader (no mention of gender).

Fluff (no angst… surprisingly). Autistic Spencer (present in all of my one shots bcos it’s canon to me).

──── domesticated time inbetween cases & blind adoration.

Warnings: literally none (who am i???), brief mention of past trauma (Hankel).

w.c: 1.5k

— They’re both nerds who are a little too invested in space. Light biblical imagery & Greek mythology references. My writing has been sufficiently domesticated (dw i’ll be back to angst soon, war is not over.)

Loosely inspired by:

a/n: just giving him what he deserved to have.

────────────

For the first time, in a long time, there is little residing in Spencer’s mind. Beyond warm hands, and soft skin, and the pulse of someone else’s body. Obsessed is one word for it, a textbook definition that can’t truly articulate the ache he derives from the thought of you. Obsessed, fatefully ruined, if this is the work of divine intervention, then consider him, once obstinate in his atheism, entirely, profusely devout.

He’s still thinking about you. What’s new? The memory of your lips pressed against his, the tattooed promise of more, more because it will never be enough. He wants, god when has he ever wanted? Life before appears bleak now, black and white. Academia, pursuits of knowledge, lonely nights and the transient fear of forever being stuck in a cyclical cycle of loneliness.

You think he’s pretty. He smiles on the way home from work, Morgan pressing him, because ‘kid you can’t be that happy for no reason.’ There is a reason, a monumental, life-altering one that waits for him at the door. He likes that, the domesticity. He’s never asked for much, content in his mishaps of intimacy, always baring the weight because he wants needs to be good. For the people around him, for the home he’s carved into his skin, for anything that starves off the decades of isolation.

When he threads his arms around your waist, leaning all of his weight into the contact, you both go stumbling back.

He’s soft. Of course he’s endured more than anyone should, the sharp edge of addiction, the stifling weight of a morbid job that has him fixated, hook line and sinker, compass pointing South every time he’s thrown into the field. But for all of that, he still obtains naive, blinding light.

He burns. Or more so, he warms.

“Hi, hi. Sorry— that wasn’t very eloquent. Can I try again?” He’s halfway out of the door; you have to lean forward, grip his wrist, tug him closer, “Okay.” He laughs, “I’ll take that as a no?”

He’s certain your name is imprinted onto his heart. Carved just for you alone. There is no one else. There could never be anyone else.

That night he falls asleep on your shoulder. Hands interlocked, body splayed out across stressed leather, abandoning his book for the soft drab of safety. There’s a tangled wire of headphones draped between you, knotted further when you pull him, half conscious to bed. He follows mindlessly.

You spend his allocated time off as recluses, abandoning civilisation. No sunlight, his apartment is permanently drenched in molten light. Scattered lamps, balancing off stacked books and messy surfaces. Every morning he’ll wake you with butterfly kisses and the promise of a breakfast he will consistently burn. He’s content, over the moon, to forget the world around him. For it to just be, just the two of you.

Today, as usual, you eat his charred attempt at food. He’s trying, he’s definitely trying, even if the end result is… a health risk. Still, you eat it regardless, without complaint, you eat it.. and then he’s just… kissing you senseless in the middle of his kitchen. Cold tiled floor, and mismatched socks. Fuck, he loves you, he’s never loved someone the way he loves you.

“I’ve been dreaming about falling into black holes recently,” he says when you cradle his face. Pretty features besotted with the sight of you. “Weird. Kinda cool. Please don’t eat anymore of my food.”

“No promises,” you grin, and he has the audacity to pout.

Because that’s not fair, burnt food can cause carcinogens to form, to obstruct digestion and metabolism. “My cooking is going to kill you. Your death will be on my hands. The grief will be immeasurable. I’ll become a hermit, never leave my apartment again. Don’t do that to me.” hands wrapped around your wrists, he preserves the contact. “Please don’t do that to me.”

“Well only because you said please—“

He sighs, audibly, ”You just died, you’re dead, and the only thing you can focus on is a word. A word I very generously repeat, at any given moment.” — he’s polite, he will use his manners, and he will unceremoniously echo please please please to obtain even a fraction of you.

He’s senseless. Too far gone.

You take his hand, press it against your heart. “Still alive. I think?”

“Yeah,” he scoffs, “For now.”

“You’re dramatic—“

He cuts you off, “Did you know one of the largest black holes ever recorded is 66 billion times the mass of the sun? Ton 618.” Pausing to kiss you (a vital necessity), his hands play aimlessly with your hair, strands sliding through the crevices of his fingers. “Imagine falling into that—“ kiss, “You would die obviously,” kiss, “But it would be a pretty cool death.” Kiss. 

Time dilation, worm holes, cosmic demise, you. Sigh— you.

“It would take over 10 billion years for its light to reach earth.” you say, and yeah. Okay. Just casually recite facts to him. That’s okay. He won’t melt, because he’s a rational, dignified, highly-cerebral adult.

Lie. You always know when to talk, sometimes, sometimes, he gets so lost in thought-loops and spirals of intellectual confusion that you have to draw him back to the present. He disintegrates. Every. Single. Time. One intelligent word and the threads of him are woven tightly around your finger.

”You’re stealing my job. And—and you’re doing it better than me. I’m taking a vow of silence. No more words. I’m becoming a monk. Except, maybe without the celibacy?”

“Whore—“

“For you? Always.” he says, knocking his shoulder into yours, “You’re missing the important aspect to this. Don’t discard my threat.”

“Spence, if you ever stop reciting random facts to me at..” you scramble to check the time, early morning, it’s hard to differentiate the hours when they all bleed into one convoluted mess of intimacy. “At 9AM, we will have serious issues. I might get HR involved.“

He’ll ramble about the laws of thermodynamics. Dedicating hours to the philosophical differences between determinism and free-will. You’ll call him a nerd, and he’ll laugh, muffling your protests with his mouth. It’s routine. Something to fall back onto.

 “Hey! Don’t drag HR into our domestic affairs! That’s—“ he interrupts himself to kiss you, again. Just because he can.

Once he’s satisfied that his lips will ache for the next millennium, he continues. “Anyway. I think we should get old together, and then, when we’re losing our minds, and we can’t tell the days apart, we just.. take a casual trip to space, travel through Ton 618. I’d be scared, so I’d hold your hand when we fall. Getting sucked into eternal darkness would be an acceptable way to go.”

He laughs, “You know, as long as you’re by my side, or whatever.”

“Or whatever,” you repeat, before holding out your pinky. “Deal?”

He feeds his own through yours, “Deal.” 

Yeah, just promise eternal devotion to him. That wont have any lasting, fatal effects on his sanity. It’s not like he’ll cling to it for the remainder of his ephemeral existence.

Later that night, when you’re draped in limbs, skin pressed against skin, you sigh against the warm slope of his neck. “You’re reciting the periodic table in your sleep again..”

It’s a habit. A permanent, engrained idiosyncratic that he’s endured since adolescence. He stirs awake, turning to face you in the hazy light. Features swollen, sleep-soft and pretty. “Was I?” He murmurs, finding the audacity to ask, “What element was i on?”

Because that’s clearly essential.

“Osmium,” you say, tucking strands of tousled auburn behind his ear. “Gonna continue?”

“Mhm— yeah. Iridium. One of my favourites, thank god you woke me up before I got to it.”

You humour his tendencies; you’re nothing if not a condoner of his weird quirks. “Discovered by Smithson Tennat in 1803.” is your response, “The name comes from Greek Mythology, Iris. Two stable Isotopes, 191 and 193.”

There you go again. Fracturing his mind, and stealing his information before it can fall from bruised lips.

He thinks you might be cut from the same cloth. He thinks he was probably just made for you. “I like the way you say Isotopes.” He mutters, “Like the way you kiss. You always take my top lip.”

There’s no epiphany. No sharp blade, dragging, penetrating, skin, forcing you to confront stifled feelings. They’ve always been there. Red string of fate, Plato’s Symposium: Aristophanes’ account of the ‘other half.’ Hero and Leander. It doesn’t matter. There’s only the here and now.

He does this thing. Often. Where he’ll moan into your open-mouth. Fingers sunk deep into your hair, keeping you impossibly tethered to him. You’re not sure what planet he fell from, but you’re glad they deported him, if only for your selfish benefit of circuiting around him.

“I’m in love with you,” the admittance is easy. Maybe the words have always been waiting for you to verbalise, bated breath, inexorably interlinked. Maybe they’re long overdue. Something pleading to be let out. But, maybe, it matters more to wait until this, when everything is soft and untouchable. Fresh, untainted. He’d like to live in your skin.

Here’s the thing, Spencer always thought he would be the first one to say it. Reciprocation was always a fantastical hypothetical, something he could only blindly hope for. But, to have his illimitable feelings, in their extensive capacity, matched? That’s— more than he ever thought he deserved.

He presses his forehead to yours, “Saying ‘i’m in love with you’ doesn’t measure up, doesn’t articulate even a fraction of what I feel for you.”

He’s pretty sure he could die right here, in this one fragile moment, and be happy with everything he’s accomplished.

[r0-boat]

Satan NSFW Alphabet

Well shit You guys really wanted it...

Here you go.

Cw: rough sex, hitting, spanking, mentions of bruises and bleeding.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Am I surprising you, but Satan is actually pretty good with aftercare? Satan will press his lips and look at any injuries he gave you. He'll hold you close and snuggle into your neck. You hear a soft rumble from his body, which he adamantly denies. He becomes incredibly protective and clingy for a while. Any King or not tries to rip you away from his arms we'll have a one-way trip to Lucifer's office. If you try to leave to go to the bathroom or get some water, he will always have his arms around you to the point where he's following you around like a clingy cat.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

As much as he hates to admit it, He agrees with Mammon's obsession with your ass. Tight, pert, and soft; enough flesh to sink his teeth into and leave red with his handprints. He likes the way he jiggles when he slaps it.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Yes. In you, on you, breeding you, in your mouth as long as He gets to empty his balls with his favorite stress toy.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Every demon has at least one dirty secret. Satan is no exception. As much as he likes to take pride in being your protector. He can't ignore his sadistic desires. To really mark your skin red and purple. To see The fear and pain in your eyes as you try to squirm away from him.

How badly he wants to make you bleed and lick up your blood.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

The way his hands clench when he thinks about slapping you across the face when you're sucking him off.

Satan had had lovers before and after he met Solomon. But once he had you, he kind of ghosted all of them. They're pissed, but honestly,, he could care less. You're all that matters to him.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Doggy style, cowgirl, face sitting, Anything that frees his hands to do more.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

No, Satan likes to lose himself during sex; if you break his concentration, he will get mad at you. If you have enough energy to school off with him while he's fucking you then he's not doing his job.

Satan shaves once every month or two and then lets everything grow out.

Personally, I feel like Satan should have more hair than he actually does (happy trail, facial hair, etc.), mainly because depressed people go through episodes where they just don't care about how groomed they are for days on end. He's not like Asmodeus, who purposely doesn't was; sometimes, he just can't bring himself to. If he isn't working, he's destroying his own stuff or killing angels for fun.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He only started to care about grooming when you started living in Gehenna. Depressed Satan starting to grow a beard and mustache because you spent two weeks too long in Hades. Only to shave it all off and be happy as a puppy when He hears you're coming back.

Satan has no idea what intimacy even is. He practically froze up when you cuddled up against his body. Even if you tell him what to do what you probably have to He will be extremely hesitant out of fear of screwing up somehow.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He doesn't jack off; I know it's surprising, but hear me out. He rather just have a body to fuck; He breaks all of his sex toys in minutes when he's using them and his hand just makes him even more pent up and pissed off.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Other than spanking, Satan has a massive sadism/masochism. Kink, You better hurt him like he hurts you. He doesn't want to have it any other way.

A huge brat tamer, if you try to tease him, he'll take that as an invitation, and trust me, you don't want to know what he's about to do to you.

Fucking loves Free Use

One time when you told him how big his cock was, he instantly came; he came so fast and so hard it bruised his ego, and he was staring at the ceiling thinking about what just happened.

New Kink unlocked🔓 Praise Kink

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Anywhere he damn pleases; He's the fucking king. In fact, he'd rather it be in public so he can give a message to other devils to fuck off.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Anger, His anger feels him up so full that it goes straight to his dick.

Teasing, he'll take it as a challenge. Satan always takes the bait, hook, line, and sinker. He can't help himself. You send one obscure image of yourself; he doesn't care where he is, in the middle of a war or in a meeting. He will be there in 10 minutes, approaching your location rapidly.

Satan 🤝 Levi jealous sex

Unlike Levi, Who stews in jealousy before acting; Satan just immediately explodes.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Get that softy fluffy sex shit out of here.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Sit on his face... Don't put 10% of your weight down; sit on it. SIT ON IT! MAKE SURE HE DOESN'T BREATHE!

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Fast and rough till you can still feel him for days.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Anywhere; everywhere; anytime, if he sees that ass and he's horny it's free real estate.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Oh yeah, of course, he'll experiment. It's not that he takes risks; it's that he doesn't care for them.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

As long as he damn pleases. Even if he is sore,, he'll keep going.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

No fuck those pieces of plastic bullshits; if he catches you using one, he'll use it till it breaks and then say. "I'm not replacing shit. You should be using me; I'm your dildo!!"

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Satan doesn't tease, and Satan does not like teasing. Teasing him is considered a challenge. Satan rather just fuck you till you stop pissing him off. If you really want to tease him you have to tie him down and pray the bindings don't break.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He growls like a feral animal; if Asmodeus fucks you like an animal in heat, then Satan fucks you like an animal with rabies; Yes, he does bite.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

As possessive as Satan is he actually doesn't mind sharing you with only a few people.

The kings if he's in a good mood;

Sitri; but he can't touch you; he must sit and watch.

Amy; Sitri must also be there for free entertainment; Satan will happily stir the pot and let Amy touch or fuck you just to watch the Sitri seething in jealousy and anger.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Satan is a shower, not a grower; As pale as mayonnaise, when his cock is hard, his tip flares so red. It's kind of fun to watch.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

His yearning for sex grows with the wrath inside him. You guys can do the math.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Very rarely he will ever feel exhausted enough to fall asleep but usually you guys are doing it all the way till morning.

[seoups]

want you back - m. fushiguro

you and megumi's relationship ended terribly. you'd spent the past few months trying to forget him- only to run into him at a party your best friend forced you to go to. cw: angst with a happy ending song: want you back by 5sos a/n: ik i just posted a megumi one but i love this man so here is yet another one

“NO MATTER WHERE I GO, I'M ALWAYS GONNA WANT YOU BACK.”

The first time Megumi saw you after the breakup was at a party. He hadn’t even noticed you until Itadori gasped loudly and pointed with no attempt to hide his shock.

You were standing across the room, talking to some guy, doing the same arm touch you did to him when you first met.

His stomach began to churn.

He couldn’t stand to see it. Couldn’t stand to see you moving on while he was still daydreaming about the memory of you. All he wanted to do was leave and try to forget you- something he’d attempted for the past month since you’d broken up.

“Let’s just go,” Megumi put down his drink. “No way,” Kugisaki insisted, crossing her arms. “You can’t let this breakup take over your life.”

That was when you spotted him too.

Your whole body froze, eyes locking with him across the crowded room. And suddenly, this party- this entire night- became your worst nightmare. Your best friend had insisted on you coming with her to this party and flirting with the guys to at least try and get yourself back out there.

You didn’t want to. This wasn’t something you typically did.

Megumi knew this. That’s why he was just as confused as you were.

Too frustrated and embarrassed by getting spotted by your ex-boyfriend, you spent the rest of the party on the couch and on your phone, pretending you weren’t hyperaware of his presence.

Megumi wouldn’t lie- he spent most of the night watching you. Ignoring every girl that tried to talk to him. Brusing off Kugisaki’s glares at him.

All he could think about was you.

The freckles on your back he’d spent time studying after the first time the two of you spent the night together.

The sound of your laugh that echoed through his brain anytime he dared to smile.

The way that you’d talk his ear off whenever you had the chance.

The way that you’d lean into him, desperate for his touch on hard days.

The way that your face would light up whenever he knocked on your door.

The way that you looked at him like he was the best thing in your life.

The roses on your shirt when you ended things with him.

The way your voice cracked as you told him, “This isn’t working.”

When the haze of the party became too much, you slipped out towards the balcony, craving some fresh air.

The air was cold and crisp, a nice contrast to the heat of the moving bodies at the party. You leaned against the railing, your fingers curling around the cold metal as you thought about you and Megumi’s prior relationship.

But then the door slid open behind you. Before you even turned to look, you knew who it was.

Megumi stepped onto the balcony, his hands shoved into his pockets. He wasn’t sure if he should have even followed you. But he made the plunge.

“Needed air?” he walked up to the railing, standing beside you. You let out a short, humorless laugh, “Clearly not as much as you did.”

A thick silence settled between you. You turned your gaze back to the skyline. But you could feel him watching you- studying you the way he always had.

“You seem different,” he finally said. “You do too.” “I guess we haven’t seen each other in a while, then,” he exhaled through his nose, barely nodding.

You hummed in agreement, watching the city lights twinkle in front of you. The part noice still bled through the glass door behind you. But out here on the balcony, it was quieter. Less suffocating.

But Megumi’s presence filled the space beside you in a way that made it impossible to ignore him.

The two of you hadn’t been alone together since the breakup. You’d made sure of that. It was easier to pretend that he didn’t exist when you weren’t looking straight at him.

But now, you were. And the weight of everything that was unsaid at the end of your breakup pressed against your ribs as if your lungs were going to explode.

Megumi shifted, his elbows resting against the railing as he turned his head slightly, his eyes still stuck on you. It made your throat tighten.

“You were talking to that guy inside,” his voice remained even. You tensed, “Yeah.”

His fingers curled into his palms. The image haunted his brain. The way you laughed at something the guy said. The way you reached out, touching his arm like you used to do to him when you laughed too hard.

“Didn’t think that was your thing,” he said finally. You let out a breath, your grip tightening on the cold railing, “It’s not.”

He knew that. He knew you would never do casual. Whenever you let someone in, you did it with your whole heart.

His jaw clenched, “Then why were yo-“ “Because I thought it’d help,” you snapped, turning towards him with frustration thick in your voice. “Because everyone kept telling me to move on from you. Everyone kept telling me I should put myself back out there as if I wasn’t the one who-“

You stopped yourself, biting down hard on your lip to stop them from moving.

Megumi’s gaze sharpened, “Like you weren’t the one who what?”

You looked away from his eyes for a moment. Megumi let the silence linger, waiting for an answer you weren’t sure you could say out loud.

Then, barely above a whisper, you said, “Like I wasn’t the one who ran away from us.”

Megumi stiffened. There it was. The truth he’d been waiting to hear come out of your mouth for months.

He’d spent months trying to figure out why you’d left. Everything was going perfect. He couldn’t understand why you’d leave.

And now that he was standing right next to you, with the weight of your words settling between you two, all he could think about was the way you used to look at him. Now, all that remained in your eyes is a look of apology and regret.

His throat tightened, “And now?” You inhaled sharply, your breath shaky, “I don’t know.”

But you did. And so did he.

Megumi turned fully toward you, shrinking the space between you by just a few inches. Close enough for you to feel his warmth and to smell the faint traces of cologne left on his hoodie after tonight. Close enough that if you turned your head just a little more, you’d be back in the place you had missed so damn much.

“Then figure it out,” he said quietly, his voice raw and honest.

Because he wasn’t over you. And he wasn’t going to pretend that he was. Not when you were standing right in front of him, looking like you might still want this too.

[tpwk-formula1]

Lactation and water sports with lando please please please (they both do the water sports)

AN: I just had a full conversation with my Tumblr bestie on how I actually don't think I know how to write watersports so I give her all the credits to helping me figure out how to write this!

TW: MDNI 18+ watersports, lactation

WC: 940+

Y/N POV

It was Lando and I's first vacation just the two of us after giving birth to our son who was now a year old.

We would only be gone for a few days but non the less the both of us were excited to have some alone time.

"Drink," I say while tossing him the plastic water bottle with a smirk. I can see Lando catch the bottle with a surprised look on his face before a small smirk breaks out across his face.

I wave my bottle showing him I was doing the same before opening it and taking a big drink before turning back and finishing getting unready from the long travel day we had.

I can see Lando in the mirror reflection scrolling on his phone while drinking his water. Once he was finished with the first bottle he got up and grabbed two more passing me one of them in the process.

"I already need to go," I whine while trying to push the bottle back towards him which only makes Lando smirk softly.

"That's kinda the whole point," Lando says with a smirk making me whine but still take the full bottle into my hand and opening before taking another big drink. Once we had both finished both of the bottles I get up from my seat at the vanity and make my way towards Lando who was currently wiggling in his spot showing he that he was int he same position as me.

I quickly climbs into his lap making sure to sit directly onto his bladder making him groan and jump at the sudden pressure.

"Fuck, baby" Lando says while gripping my waist into his hands and moving me so I'm sitting on his already hard cock. Even with us both being fully dressed still it doesn't stop me from grinding down on his cock making the both of us whimper.

"Been too long," I whine and moan when Lando moves a hand over my tummy and pushing down on my bladder making my breath hitch as I try to hold my bladder in.

"Fuck, baby you're leaking," Lando grunts out with his eyes locked onto the loose shirt I had thrown on earlier. When I look down I notice some of my breast milk had leaked through my shirt. I feel my face grow red at the sight but when Lando brings his hand up to my senstive nipple giving it a small squeeze a small whimper leaves my mouth.

"Fuck, I love how sensitive they've become," Lando whispers while quickly pulling my top over my head leaving my top half completely bare for Lando's greedy hands.

As soon as Lando pinches one of my sensitive nipples I see some milk start to dribble out. Lando wastes no time leaning forward and licking the small bead up.

"So good," Lando mumbles before attaching his mouth to one of my nipples and sucking some of my milk into his mouth.

"Lando," I squeal trying to push his mouth away from my nipples but it only encourages him to suck more milk into his mouth.

"I've wanted to do that since you started producing," Lando admits sheepishly before bringing his mouth down to my other nipple giving it the same treatment as the previous one.

The more Lando pinches and pulls at my nipples the more my milk is starting to drip over my skin making me whine and grind harder down in Lando's lap.

With my bladder feeling the fullest is has in awhile I can't help the loud whimper that falls from my lips.

"Lando, I need to go," I cry out which only has Lando giving my nipple one last suck before detaching his lips and quickly helping the both of us finish undressing.

Once Lando has both of us naked he quickly pushes me back onto the bed before climbing between my legs.

"Lando, please," I beg not fully knowing what I'm asking for but Lando takes it as his chance to slowly start pushing his already hard cock into my soaked pussy.

"Fuck Lando," I cry when he bottoms out.

Having such a full bladder is making everything that much more intense for the both of us and I can tell Lando is not going to last very long.

"Fuck," Lando grunts as he starts thrusting his hips in and out of my pussy making me moan even louder.

"Lan, I'm close," I cry when I feel Lando hitting my G-spot with each thrust.

"Fuck, feel so good," Lando grunts while hit hips start to falter letting me know he was getting close.

"Lando I can't cum," I cry out when I feel the urge of my bladder to give way.

"Just cum for me, it's okay," Lando grunts while picking up his thrusts again this time fucking into my pussy even harder.

"FUck Lando!" I moan loudly when I finally allow my body to succumb to the pleasure.

As soon as I start cumming all over Lando's dick I can feel myself squirting making the waves of my orgasm that much more intense feeling my body relaxing into the pleasure.

"Fuck so hot," Lando grunts while pulling out and jerking her cock till he starts shooting ropes of cum all over my stomach.

"Fuck," Lando whimpers when the final rope of cum shoots from the tip of his still hard cock when a small dribble of his pee beeds out making Lando tense his muscles to stop himself.

"Fuck, so good," Lando moans while allowing his body to relax forward falling to relax on top of me.

------

The end! I hope you enjoyed

[queerfandomtrifecta]

I’m convinced we haven’t seen Helly R since season one.

I have another short post about a little part of this but just gonna combine it all into one here, but I do NOT trust s2 Helly R yet. There’s a lot of reasons and I’m currently rewatching for mannerism differences between Helly v Helena, but Helly R in s2 has felt very stiff and off in a few places (when she asked Mark if he was okay in the breakroom, telling Irving “we’ve got you”) which felt SO uncomfortable compared to s1 Helly R to me. That bothers me almost more than her lying about what she saw when they did the OTC thing and withholding the knowledge that her outie is an Eagan. Also, it’s Helly who very very quickly (and conveniently) notices the cameras are missing and says “wait, what happened to the security camera?” when it’s suggested Milchick was probably listening.

I think it’s totally plausible that if they can wake the innies up on the outside they can let the outies into the severed floor. I think Helly R saw too much and we’ve seen Helena Eagan pretending to be Helly the entire time.

I fully believe that they’re telling the truth when they say there are no cameras or mics on the severed floor anymore. Why would they need them with Helena Eagan herself there listening to everything?

Also, Mark is trying to find Ms. Casey/Gemma with “Helly” helping him. Helena Eagan and Lumon clearly don’t want that to happen, so with Helena in there acting as Helly R, she could point Mark in every direction but the right one and seem like it’s all genuinely an attempt to help. If it ever didn’t and Mark called her out on it, the fact that Helly had feelings for Mark at the end of s1 and was having a hard time helping him find his wife because of that is a good enough excuse to not blow Helena Eagan’s cover.

I’m rewatching to compare the two characters and see if there’s anything uniquely Helena that’s coming across in s2 Helly R or anything that would definitively rule this out as an option, but right now I don’t think we’ve seen Helly R yet this season.

Bonus theory/analysis that I cannot articulate well yet but am including anyway for some reason: s2 Helly is in solid blue every time weve seen her so far. Blue top, blue skirt. Every episode of s2 so far. She started in that in s1e1 and moved away from it, but that’s not happening here yet. Wish I could wrap up my train of thought here in a way that is coherent and concise, but TL;DR, blue (and green) is a Lumon color throughout, especially when severed characters are involved. (Petey reintegrated then died wearing that red and blue striped robe, the blue and red beta fish in the divided tank in Mark’s house, Gemma’s red and green candle Cobel takes from Mark’s basement, etc etc) I’m working on a longer piece of meta about color symbolism in Severance as I rewatch but yeah for now, im just not trusting the head to toe blue every single day for s2 Helly R.

[insomniakisses]

Do you have anymore bbg!alpha x alpha!Ingrid x alpha!Mapi? I've been thinking about them a lot recently, and like in all reality Mapi is really bbg too, but she's just got a brattier side than r. Also, I can see bbg getting really confused/concerned feeling Mapi's dick piercing inside.

- 🐻

Surprise BBG

Short little ficcy for u 🐻 anonnie bc they give me brain rott with bbg!r

Warnings/noted: omegaverse au, alpha mapi x alpha reader x alpha ingrid, ass fucking, cock piercing.

It wasn’t unusual for Mapi and Ingrid to steal you alway from the rest of the pack and fuck you. You know they have high sex drives and you are their sweet babygirl.

A title you take pride in, so when you look across the field and see them wiggling their fingers. With their hands outstretched to you, you can’t help the giddy feeling that floods you and the neediness that begins to grow.

You make quick steps over to them, being greeted with the softest kisses and touches. Both of them lacing their hands in yours and heading for your den, that looked more like a nest than anything.

The second the door closes behind mapi you’re being pulled into Ingrid’s arms her lips on yours in an eager kiss, Mapi tugging your shorts off and groaning at the plug sitting snuggly in your ass.

She cant help the tug she gives it, relishing in your yelps and moans that make it all too easy for Ingrid to slip her tongue into your mouth. Pulling away briefly to tug your jersey off before shes attacking your neck with kisses, guiding you towards the mattress.

You end up laying on Ingrid, the two of you making out softly as mapi continued to play with your ass. Her soft tugs on the plug evolving in to pulling it almost all the way out before pushing it deep again.

Her actions making the prettiest noises fall from your mouth and into Ingrid’s. This went on for a torturous 10 minutes, your lips swollen against Ingrid’s and body beginning to get twitchy and fidgety under Mapi. You whine trying to tell her you need more without saying the words and it works.

With a kiss to your ass cheek she slides the plug fully your of you, shimming her shorts down to free her cock.

“That’s it baby girl,” she groans reaching for the bottle of lube kept in the den and dribbling it into your hole. You reaching to spread your cheeks for her like the good girl you are.

She grabs her tip lining herself up and gently easing into you. You’ve taken her so many times, you should be gaping for her at this point but you always seem to stay so tight always making her work to push into you.

You groan and slump into Ingrid as Mapi bottoms out, the Norwegian softly stroking tour hair as you lay against her chest. Musing how you were so good for them when she feels your harden against her thigh the second you felt Mapi inside you.

It’s not long after mapi begins thrusting that you realised it feels different. You don’t know if you like it just yet, face twisting and a confused whimper leaving your lips.

“W-whats that!?” You yelp attempting to get away but they have you pinned, stuck taking mapi’s eager deep thrusts.

“Surprise babygirl” Ingrid all but coos when she sees your still confused.

“It’s okay, It’s okay” Mapi mutters as she pounds into your ass, already so drunk on the tight feeling and the new sensation of fucking you with her piercing in.

“Mapi just has that piercing she was telling you about baby, wanted you to be the first one” Ingrid explains following her statement with some praise knowing you desperately need to be praised when theirs a cock abusing your little ass hole.

“Good girl, oh such a Good girl for us baby” she praises, feeling the wet patch against her thigh as you cock starts to ooze cum onto her thigh.

“Thats it,” Mapi groans “So fucking close baby girl, fuck!” She yells out as she shoots a large load into your ass.

[inspireartnotwar]

Art. Can. Die.

This is my battle cry in the face of the silent extinguishing of an entire generation of artists by AI.

And you know what? We can't let that happen. It's not about fighting the future, it's about shaping it on our terms. If you think this is worth fighting for, please share this post. Let's make this debate go viral - because we need to take action NOW.

Remember that even in the darkest of times, creativity always finds a way.

To unleash our true potential, we need first to dive deep into our darkest fears.

So let's do this together:

By the end of 2025, most traditional artist jobs will be gone, replaced by a handful of AI-augmented art directors. Right now, around 5 out of 6 concept art jobs are being eliminated, and it's even more brutal for illustrators. This isn't speculation: it's happening right now, in real-time, across studios worldwide.

At this point, dogmatic thinking is our worst enemy. If we want to survive the AI tsunami of 2025, we need to prepare for a brutal cyberpunk reality that isn’t waiting for permission to arrive. This isn't sci-fi or catastrophism. This is a clear-eyed recognition of the exponential impact AI will have on society, hitting a hockey stick inflection point around April-May this year. By July, February will already feel like a decade ago. This also means that we have a narrow window to adapt, to evolve, and to build something new.

Let me make five predictions for the end of 2025 to nail this out:

Every major film company will have its first 100% AI-generated blockbuster in production or on screen.

Next-gen smartphones will run GPT-4o-level reasoning AI locally.

The first full AI game engine will generate infinite, custom-made worlds tailored to individual profiles and desires.

Unique art objects will reach industrial scale: entire production chains will mass-produce one-of-a-kind pieces. Uniqueness will be the new mass market.

Synthetic AI-generated data will exceed the sum total of all epistemic data (true knowledge) created by humanity throughout recorded history. We will be drowning in a sea of artificial ‘truths’.

For us artists, this means a stark choice: adapt to real-world craftsmanship or high-level creative thinking roles, because mid-level art skills will be replaced by cheaper, AI-augmented computing power.

But this is not the end. This is just another challenge to tackle.

Many will say we need legal solutions. They're not wrong, but they're missing the bigger picture: Do you think China, Pakistan, or North Korea will suddenly play nice with Western copyright laws? Will a "legal" dataset somehow magically protect our jobs? And most crucially, what happens when AI becomes just another tool of control?

Here's the thing - boycotting AI feels right, I get it. But it sounds like punks refusing to learn power chords because guitars are electrified by corporations. The systemic shift at stake doesn't care if we stay "pure", it will only change if we hack it.

Now, the empowerment part: artists have always been hackers of narratives.

This is what we do best: we break into the symbolic fabric of the world, weaving meaning from signs, emotions, and ideas. We've always taken tools never meant for art and turned them into instruments of creativity. We've always found ways to carve out meaning in systems designed to erase it.

This isn't just about survival. This is about hacking the future itself.

We, artists, are the pirates of the collective imaginary. It’s time to set sail and raise the black flag.

I don't come with a ready-made solution.

I don't come with a FOR or AGAINST. That would be like being against the wood axe because it can crush skulls.

I come with a battle cry: let’s flood the internet with debate, creative thinking, and unconventional wisdom. Let’s dream impossible futures. Let’s build stories of resilience - where humanity remains free from the technological guardianship of AI or synthetic superintelligence. Let’s hack the very fabric of what is deemed ‘possible’. And let’s do it together.

It is time to fight back.

Let us be the HumaNet.

Let’s show tech enthusiasts, engineers, and investors that we are not just assets, but the neurons of the most powerful superintelligence ever created: the artist community.

Let's outsmart the machine.

Stéphane Wootha Richard

P.S: This isn't just a message to read and forget. This is a memetic payload that needs to spread.

Send this to every artist in your network.

Copy/paste the full text anywhere you can.

Spread it across your social channels.

Start conversations in your creative communities.

No social platform? Great! That's exactly why this needs to spread through every possible channel, official and underground.

Let's flood the datasphere with our collective debate.

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Would It Be Weird?

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.6k

Warnings: fluff

Summary: After a night of drinking, you and your friends stumble across a fire station crawling with firemen. One of them catches your eye, and your friends try their damnest to get you two together. It’s been a long time for you but maybe Dean Winchester will change all of that.

Square Filled: stranger au (2023) for @spnaubingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are greatly appreciated <3

x

“Bartender! One more round!” your best friend, Shelly, calls out.

Despite being busy for the night, the bartender refills more shot glasses and hands them over one by one. After the week you just had, you deserve to have a night out for celebrations. Hard work pays off, and your boss promoted you to a manager with a significant pay raise, and Shelly just got engaged. That is enough to call for a celebratory night out with friends.

“So, have you decided on a maid of honor?” you ask Shelly when she returns to the table.

“You, of course. Better do a good job or else I’m asking my sister to do it.”

“Hey, don’t insult me. You know I love planning a good party,” you grin.

“I can’t believe I’m getting married! This is so surreal! Janice, when is Parker going to ask you to marry him? You’ve been together, what, six years?”

“We’re taking it slow. We don’t mind,” she shrugs. “Don’t come at me without coming after Tina. The other day, I caught her and Ben doing it on the kitchen counter.”

“Tina!” you gasp with a smile.

“I can’t help it. We’re in the honeymoon phase.”

“You got married three years ago.”

“No kids make the honeymoon phase last forever,” she laughs.

“So we’re all in relationships except for Y/N,” Shelly smirks. “When are you going to let a man ruffle those perfect feathers?”

“Shelly,” you grit out.

“Don’t give me that look. You’re the only one out of us who isn’t in a relationship. You’ve been single for half a decade now.”

It’s true. The last relationship you were in just didn’t do it for you. You stayed with him for three years because you thought that’s what you were supposed to be doing. He wasn’t anything special. He didn’t make your heart race. He didn't make your skin hot and clammy. He didn’t make you weak in the knees. But being with him was better than being alone.

You know better now. Being single doesn’t necessarily mean you’re alone. You have a wonderful job, loving parents, funny siblings, and wonderful friends. You like being single, but there are times when you wonder if there is more for you out there than meaningless sex and hookups.

“Despite what you might think, I’m happy where I am.”

“Nope, don’t accept it. We’re going to set you up tonight. Girls, do you see potential matches?”

“Come on, don’t do this,” you sigh.

Your friends chatter amongst themselves as they seek out potential matches for you while you sit there like a bum on a log. You can’t be too mad at them. They want to see you happy. Plus, they might actually find your next love. Despite their best efforts, they don’t find anyone worth your time, but you do get free drinks by flirting with men.

By two in the morning, you and your friends stumble out of the bar in laughter. Your home is a few blocks away so you’re okay with walking back to your place even though you drove there.

“We’ll come back for my car tomorrow. Right now, all I want is pizza. I have some in my freezer,” you say.

You’re not so drunk that you can’t walk straight or you’re slurring your words but you are drunk enough not to be able to drive. Your friends, on the other hand, are more far gone than you are. Shelly is a giggle drunk, Tina is a loud drunk, and Janice is a sexual drunk. You’re a mom drunk, always trying to take care of those around you. It’s why you’re less drunk than they are. Someone has to be the responsible one.

“Let’s stop there!” Tina gasps loudly.

She points to a firehouse that has the garage doors open to let in the cool night are. Inside are about half a dozen firemen, all with big muscles and tight clothing. Your friends are already walking over to the station with you trailing behind.

“Hey, ladies. What are you doing out here at two in the morning?” one of the men asks.

“The bar just closed and we’re not done with our party,” Shelly grins. “We go every Friday night.”

“Why aren’t the firefighters in my distract as hot as you guys are?” Janice giggles.

You step into the station and immediately become sober when you lock eyes with forest green eyes. All the air is knocked out of your lungs, your body becomes warm with tingles, and butterflies erupt in your stomach. Shelly notices the look in your eyes and nudges Janice with a smirk.

“I’m Dean,” Green Eyes says.

“Y/N,” you smile back.

“What’s the party for, ladies?”

“I just got engaged,” Shelly grins and shows off her ring to them. “Y/N just got a promotion.”

“What for?” Dean asks.

“To be a manager. It’s more money and I’m in charge of a lot of employees.”

“I hope you’re a good boss.”

“A very good one,” you smile.

“Do you have any alcohol?” Tina asks.

She stumbles forward and knocks into you. You fall forward and end up in Dean’s lap. He’s leaning against one of the trucks, and he easily catches you in his strong arms. There go the butterflies again.

“Sorry,” you whisper.

“Don’t be. It got you in my arms,” he flirts.

You turn in his arms but he doesn’t let go of you. In fact, he wraps his arm around your chest. Shelly sees the blush on your cheeks and is mentally doing backflips at the thought of you finding your one.

“No, alcohol. Sorry.”

“Y/N, you have some. Let’s go to your place,” Janice says.

“We were heading there when you guys wanted to stop here and talk to the nice men.”

You look past your friends and notice the firefighter pole in the corner, and you gasp happily.

“You have a pole! I’ve always wanted to go down one,” you grin. “Can I?”

“Maybe when you’re not drunk,” Dean chuckles. “How are you guys getting home?”

“Walking. I live a few blocks away. We drove here but my car is going to be parked at the bar all night.”

“Let me drive you girls just make sure you make it home okay.”

“That sounds amazing. We’d love a ride,” Shelly says before you can say anything. “Can we take the firetruck?”

“Do you want to take the firetruck?” Dean asks.

You pull away slightly and look into his eyes. How are they so green? Damn, his parents must have great genes.

“Sure,” you giggle.

“Don’t let the Captain catch you,” one of Dean’s friends smirks.

“Don’t tell him and he won’t know. We’re taking the truck, ladies. Hop in.”

Your friends whoop and cheer as they climb into the truck, and Dean helps you into the front. Instead of driving them all home, he just takes them to your house. It’s a short ride but you feel more sober now than you did when you first arrived at the bar. There's something about Dean that makes you want to remember the night. You want to wake up tomorrow and remember how green his eyes are.

Your friends pile out of the truck and stumble to your front door. You toss Shelly your keys so that they can go inside while you hang back with Dean for a few minutes alone with him.

“Thank you for the ride, Dean.”

“Anytime, sweetheart.”

You open the door and hop out, but Dean doesn’t drive away like you thought he was going to do. Instead, he rolls down the window so he can get a better view of you walking to your house. A man who waits for you to enter your house? That’s a man you want.

“I’ll see you later, Y/N,” he calls out.

“Bye, Dean.”

Only when he sees you walk inside does he drive off. Dean hasn’t left your mind since that night, even after a week of grueling work in the office. As a new manager, you’re expected to do more work and manage more than half a dozen employees. It’s what you signed up for, but you didn’t realize just how much of your energy it was going to cost you.

By Friday night, you and your friends went to the same club to unwind. This time, you didn't drive to the club because you don’t ever want to leave your car here again. Reports of cars being broken into came from the bar. Luckily, yours was left alone but it was enough to scare you from keeping it here again.

“So, what happened with fireman Dean?” Shelly asks with a grin. “Did you kiss him?”

“Shelly! No,” you laugh. “He just gave us a ride. That’s it. I don’t even have his number.”

“Maybe we should go back and get it for you,” Tina smirks.

“Leave the poor man alone.”

This time, you don’t drink as much as your friends because you’re kind of hoping to run into Dean again. You want to remember every interaction with him as you can, and you figure you can always drink at your house. Time flies when you’re having fun and before you know it, it’s already two in the morning. You and your friends pile out of the bar but pause when you see the shiny red fire truck waiting outside.

“Hey, ladies. Want a ride?” Dean grins.

“Dean, hi,” you smile.

The girls giggle to themselves at the starstruck look in your eyes. Thankfully, they don’t comment on it.

“Thanks for the ride, Dean,” Shelly grins.

The girls take their seats in the back while you’re still standing on the sidewalk. You take two steps toward Dean and end up tripping over your own two feet. Dean is quick with his reflexes and catches you before you faceplant onto the concrete.

“Now, if I wasn’t here, who would have caught you?”

“No one,” you blush.

“Exactly. Now I have to be here every time to catch you.”

Once you’re in the passenger seat, Dean takes off toward Shelly’s house. You give him directions to each of their houses until you’re the only one left.

“Thank you for driving us all home.”

“No problem,” he smiles.

You spot a Sharpie in one of the cup holders so you grab it and grab Dean’s right hand. You write down your number in big numbers so he can’t miss it.

“Call me next time you want to pick me up.”

“I’ll be sure to do that.”

You lean over and kiss Dean’s cheek before leaving the fire truck. He watches you with a slight smirk, only driving away once he knows you’re safe inside your house. This becomes a routine for you and Dean. He’s always there outside the club with the fire truck, ready to drive you and your friends home. One time, you had an Uber all set up but Dean refused to let you take it. Your friends are having a field day with this. They tease you about your new fireman boyfriend even though you and Dean aren’t dating.

Could you two be? Sure. He hasn’t asked you out nor have you asked him out, and you two have never kissed. You’re flirting, dancing around the edges of what could be. It’s enough for you right now even though it wouldn’t be so terrible to date him. It’s fun to have a sexy stranger waiting for you.

One Friday night, you’re the designated DD since you have to help your brother move tomorrow. Being the only one sober is hilarious knowing how raunchy your friends can get.

“So, when are you going to fuck him?” Shelly asks.

“It’s not like that. He’s just giving us rides.”

“I bet you’d like to ride him,” Janice giggles. Your entire face goes hot, and she laughs at the look on your face. “Look how red she is! You like him!”

“Drink your drink, okay?”

Throughout the night, all you can think about is Dean and how good he’d look on top of you or beneath you. Curse your friends and their no-filter mouths. By the time two rolls around, you’re leaving the club with your friends. Dean is standing outside near his truck like he’s always done the past few months.

“I’m the DD tonight.” You hold up your key. “No drinking for me.”

“When are you going to fuck her?” Tina asks loudly. “Because it’s been a long time for her.”

“Tina!” you hiss and look at Dean. “Sorry.”

“It’s no problem,” he smiles, “but I am driving you all home. You can call me tomorrow and I’ll drive you back here.”

“Why would you do that? It seems like a hassle.”

“It’s no problem.”

The girls hop into the back while you take the front, as per usual, and Dean starts the drive to Shelly’s house. While he’s driving, you can’t help but stare at him. He has such a great side profile. His jaw is strong and sharp, and he has a delicious amount of facial hair. Not too long but enough to feel the burn on your skin. Dean side-eyes you and smirks knowing you’re watching him.

“Want to turn the sirens on?”

“Yeah! Turn them on!”

“Can I?” you ask with a grin.

Dean shows you the button to press, and you flip the switch. The sirens go off and the lights flash rapidly, and your friends cheer and shout. Dean turns them off before someone thinks there is a real emergency. Dean stops at your house once all your friends are gone, but you don’t rush to get out.

“Thank you for driving them home. You didn't have to.”

“I wanted to. I like driving you home.”

Now that you’re sober, you can feel the tension between you two. This is going to be something you deal with another time, so you lean over and kiss his cheek like you’ve been doing.

“Goodnight, Dean.”

You get out of the truck and feel his eyes on you the whole time. Instead of going inside, you stop by your front door just staring at it. What the hell are you doing? There is obvious chemistry between you two. Are you really just going to ignore it and wait for someone else to snatch him up?

“Y/N?” Dean calls from the truck. When you don’t turn around, he gets out and lightly jogs over to you. “Hey, you okay?”

“Why did you drive me home?” You turn to face him. “Now I have to go back to the club to get my car.”

“I’ll pick you up tomorrow and drive you over there. Not in the truck, unfortunately.”

“That’s not what I asked you.”

“You were drinking tonight.”

“I was the DD. Why did you drive me and all my friends home?”

Dean rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “Would it be weird if I told you I look forward to Friday nights knowing I get to see your smile?”

“No,” you mumble with a blush. “Would it be weird if I told you I only go to the club on Friday nights knowing you’re out there waiting for me?”

Dean steps closer to you with a smile. “No. Would it be weird if I wanted to kiss you?”

“It’d be weird if you didn’t.”

Dean pulls you into him and kisses you. It’s like how every romance author describes a first kiss. Sparks fly, euphoria flows through the veins, and you can’t ever see yourself kissing anyone else.

x

Want to be tagged? Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[corviiids]

hello! how do you find consistent friends in fandom? as in, how do you find people who stick with you through different fandoms and listen and read your work. also, how long have you been writing for and how long did it take you to get so good at writing and character analysis.... your work is such an inspiration to me, genuinely one of my top 3 authors across ao3. i hope the writing goes well!

hey! this is really sweet, thank you very much for your lovely kind words. 💖

re: friendship: i don't mean to be a downer about this so i hope it doesn't come across this way, but i do think the concept of friends where you follow each other through all your fandoms and continue to read each other's work etc kind of... either doesn't exist or is just a rare phenomenon and not a 'type' of friend per se more than it is something that just happens out of luck. i am lucky enough to have friendships which have persisted through all of us changing fandoms, but the reason those friendships last is actually because we found connections that went beyond common interests. i think sharing a fandom/interest is great as an initial point of connection and a way to meet, but for a relationship to last, you need to have a deeper bond than both being into the same thing--so contrary to what you've asked about (oops sorry) those friendships im speaking of only last because we didn't follow each other into different fandoms, really. we didn't have to. along the same vein, i'd respectfully argue that it wouldn't be productive or fair of me to group 'reading my work' in as an element of friendship, so to speak--i definitely don't expect my friends to read my fic and vice versa, we all understand that we can support each other in our creative pursuits and lives in general / in the abstract without needing to be a fan of the same things or even necessarily being fans of each other's work (although of course it's always nice). i know this doesn't really answer your specific question but i hope it doesn't come across as pessimistic as it might sound. i truly and genuinely believe it's a positive thing that the idealised friendgroup traipsing through fandoms together doesn't really exist (or if it does exist, it's luck and not something to shoot for in itself), because this just tells me to look out for these great opportunities to form bonds that last beyond superficial interests.

in terms of how to make those friendships to begin with, im honestly even less help. my friendships kind of just happened to me. im actually quite terrible at reaching out to people and i am notoriously difficult to reach myself hahaha so honestly all the credit for my friendships goes to my friends for being patient and sticking with me despite that. i am honestly just very lucky in that i've been able to talk out loud into the void and have had wonderful people reach out to me because of it, but that's hardly a reliable strategy... i guess i'd encourage you to be more like my friends, who are the anime protagonists wielding the power of friendship to my prickly antagonist, or whatever. oh another thing to remember i guess is that some friendships just don't last this way and will stay within fandoms and may peter out, and that's ok. i don't consider those relationships less real or valuable for being less lasting.

re: writing: i want to caveat that i don't think i'm fairly able to say (or comfortable saying) that i'm particularly good at writing or character analysis, certainly not to an extent that i'd be willing to hold myself up as an example of it, but i really appreciate that you feel that way about my work and am incredibly honoured to be considered an inspiration in any capacity!!

with that disclaimer made, i'll do my best to answer for whatever it's worth. i've liked writing ever since i was a very little kid, but i will credit any actual progress i've made in developing the skill to writing fanfic because i think that being able to focus on building character and logical flow in plot progression over other things like creating characters, worldbuilding, inventing plots wholesale, etc--which has allowed me to sort of expedite those skills in particular and which i think are helpful in writing more broadly. (this also answers the 'character analysis' part specifically--when you don't have to/get to invent a character, you have to spend more time taking them apart.) anyway, i started writing fic about twelve or thirteen years ago, and there have been periods within that where i've progressed faster or slower depending what's going on in my life haha. i do think time played a massive role in any skill developments i've made, but i also know people take less time or more time to make similar progress (caveat again: progression is subjective, this is very approximate), so i think the other key ingredient besides time is engagement. if it's helpful, i went into that a little bit more here, but as stated i have a lot more to learn and would never present myself as an expert lol

[austinbutlerslovers]

New Neighbor

Label 18+

Summary Your new neighbor is a hot fit biker. The strong silent type, and all you can think about is how to make him yours, because you love a challenge, and you always get what you want.

❤️‍🔥Passionate Smut ❤️‍🔥 Handsome new neighbor •Female in heat • promiscuous girl • teasing • Benny playing hard to get • trying to dominate Benny • manhandled by Benny • rough sex • size kink• girl on top • P in V • doggy style • rendered senseless • orgasms • after care

New Neighbor

The first time you catch a glimpse of your new neighbor moving in, you nearly drop the tray of muffins in your hands.

God, was he hot.

Standing at least 6’ ft broad-shouldered with muscled arms exposed under a sleeveless tee, he looked like he’d been carved straight out of some sinful fantasy.

His sandy brown hair was just long enough to curl at the ends, and that goatee? Pure rugged perfection. Add in piercing blue eyes and the Harley parked outside, and you were officially a goner.

He didn’t seem like the chatty type—strong, silent, mysterious even. And if there was one thing you liked, it was a challenge.

You watch him from your kitchen window longer than you intended before deciding theres no way in hell were you going to let the other nosy neighbors get to him first.

You threw together a welcome basket, just an excuse to knock on his door, and maybe—just maybe—see if those biceps felt as good as they looked.

Before heading out, you made sure to tug your top down showing just enough cleavage to grab his attention, then with your heart racing and confidence high, you knocked on his door, basket in hand.

A moment later, the door swung open, and there he was, leaning lazily against the frame, his eyes sweeping over you with keen interest.

Up close, he was even hotter —unfairly good-looking, with a slow, knowing smile that knocked every damn word right out of your mouth.

“Hey,” he drawled, his voice deep and smooth. “What’s this?”

You blinked up at him, your brain scrambling to function.

“I, uh… welcome basket.” You shoved it toward him wide eyed and breathless.“Just a —little something to welcome you to the neighborhood.”

His gaze sweeps over you, lingering just enough to send a heat rushing through your veins. “Nice of you,” he says, taking it from your hands. “Name’s Benny.”

Your lips curve into a flirtatious smile seeing he’s interested. “If you need anything, Benny, don’t hesitate to ask.” you add, your eyes shamelessly wandering over his biceps. “Any little thing you can think of.”

Benny’s brows lift, and that damn handsome smirk widens even more. “I can think of something right now,” he says stepping aside and ushering you in.

You don’t hesitate, walking inside as he shuts the door behind you.

The place is neat, though distinctly his- a leather jacket draped over a chair, a duffel bag half-unpacked in the corner, and tools spread across the kitchen counter. His riding gloves sit beside an open beer, and a stack of mail is tossed haphazardly on the table.

“Nice place,” you say, sliding onto a stool as he hands you a beer.

“Didn’t think I’d be entertaining this soon,” he smirks, leaning against the counter.

“Am I entertaining?” you tease, taking a sip.

“Oh, you’re somethin’,” he drawls, his gaze lingering on you as you cross your legs, playing up the way your skirt rides up just a little higher than whats modest.

The conversation flows easily, filled with teasing remarks and stolen glances. Benny watches you with a knowing smirk as you lay it on thick, your hand occasionally brushing his arm, your smile lingering as you look at him through your lashes.

At one point, he chuckles, shaking his head. “You don’t hold back, do you?”

You tilt your head innocently. “Why should I?”

He exhales a laugh, running a hand through his hair. “Woman after my own heart.”

You look away grinning. “And something more.”you admit finishing your beer.

His smirk deepens and there’s something different in the way he looks at you, something careful despite the obvious heat between you.

He’s holding back for such a hard man, with all his strength and rugged intensity— and you can tell.

When you finally leave, you’re half-disappointed he didn’t bend you over the counter and render you senseless like you wanted.

But it was fine—you liked a slow burn, and by the way his eyes lingered on you as you walked away, you had no doubt he was thinking about you, just as much as you were thinking about him.

The sound of Benny’s Harley rumbling to life jolts you awake. You scramble to the window in the morning, watching as he straddles his Harley, his muscles flexing under his tee. He looks like a goddamn dream, and you bite your lip, watching him drive off.

Today was the day. You were gonna look cute, you were gonna see him again, and this time, he wasn’t gonna be able to resist you.

You throw on the tiniest pair of shorts you own, tie a tee at the waist, and step outside—only to realize the sky has darkened and the air is heavy with moisture.

A drizzle starts, and as you glance toward Benny’s porch, you spot his laundry still hanging on the line.

Then, like the universe is testing you, the sky opens up.

“Shit,” you mutter, dashing toward his laundry, snatching towels and jeans off the line as the rain soaks through your own clothing in the process.

You’re hauling an armful of damp clothes toward his door when the rumble of his engine startles you.

Benny pulls up just as you reach the porch, dismounting smoothly. He takes one look at you, drenched and clutching his laundry, and smirks.

“That’s cute,” he says, striding over to help.

“I wasn’t gonna let your stuff get ruined,” you insist stepping inside as he holds the door open for you.

He follows, shaking off the rain as you both drop the clothes onto the counter. The air between you shifts—humid and thick with something unsaid.

You glance at him, both of you soaked, his shirt clinging to the hard lines of his chest as he watches you, the water dripping down your form, your shirt practically see-through, your breaths coming in short, uneven pants.

“Persistent little thing, aren’t you?” He says his voice low and filled with quiet longing.

You meet his gaze, pulse hammering as every nerve in your body ignites with anticipation. “I always get what I want Benny,” you whisper, stepping closer, your hands sliding over his firm biceps.

A smirk plays at his lips as he takes you in, his blue eyes dark with desire. “You’ve got me,” he says, his voice low and rough and before you know it, his hands are on your waist gripping you close as his mouth crashes against yours.

The force of him steals your breath, his body hard and unyielding as he walks you backward toward the bedroom.

Clothes come off piece by piece, your hands trailing down his toned chest until you lay back on his bed. He unbuttons his jeans, holding them at the waist as you slip your panties down.

You watch, breathless, as he digs through a drawer, retrieving a condom and when he finally pushes his jeans down, your eyes widen as they slide down his hips, your breath hitching at the size of his cock.

He grins at your expression. “Better than you imagined?”

You swallow hard, heat rushing to your cheeks. “M-much more,” you stutter, barely able to form words.

His smirk deepens as he rolls the condom on slow and patient as his gaze locks on yours. “Flattery will get you everywhere with me, sweetheart.”

He climbs over you, his abs flexing with each movement, every curve of his body defined and powerful. The length of his cock brushes against your thigh, leaving a trail of warmth against your skin as he positions himself above you, his biceps flexing as he holds himself up.

But you’re not about to let him take control that easy.

You push against his chest, surprising him as you force him onto his back. He lets you, his grin widening as he settles against the mattress, his hands immediately finding your waist, holding you firm.

“You gonna take me?” he grins his eyes dark with amusement and something more dangerous.

“Mmhmm” you say defiantly biting your lip as you climb onto him, straddling his hips.

Your hands trail down his chest, feeling the firm ridges of muscle beneath your fingertips as you slowly lower yourself down on him. His cock is thick, stretching you wide, forcing a deep moan from your lips as your body adjusts to the sheer size of him.

“C’mon, sweetheart, take me,” he taunts, his voice thick with heat. As you struggle his hands cup your breasts, thumbs grazing your nipples as he thrusts up into you, making you gasp the stretch so deep it makes your eyes squeeze shut.

He keeps goading, bucking his hips, filling you deep and you moan taking each hard thrust until you regain your senses, practically bunny bouncing on him.

“Fuck thats it ,” he rasps, watching your body take him. “Look at you.”

You do—you watch him, watch the way his jaw clenches, the way he pants, the way his hands grip your hips firm as you begin to ride him harder. He meets you thrust for thrust, his groans of satisfaction driving you faster.

“Taking me good,” he grunts, his eyes locked on yours, his praise making your body burn hotter as the room fills with the sounds of skin meeting skin, your breathless moans and Benny’s deep, husky praises.

“That’s it, baby,” he murmurs, his hands, squeezing your hips claiming you harder. “Doing real damn good.”

You shudder your head tipping back as you orgasm rocking your hips against him in sweet bliss.

Suddenly, the room spins as Benny flips you onto your back in one fluid motion, his strength sending a thrill through your dazed body. Your hands fly up, and he grips your wrists in one hand, pinning you as he kneels between your thighs, positioning himself once more.

“You didn't take me all the way” he rasps. “Now I gotta finish what you started” he breathes, his cock pressing insistently at your entrance.

“Please Benny,” you practically moan and your eyes roll back as he pushes into you all over again, stretching you to the brink, satisfying you so deep you can hardly breathe.

He grips your wrists firm, his muscles flexing hard as he slams against you, each thrust making the bed creak as you wail, your cries filling the air loud enough to wake the neighbors.

The pressure of his cock, the intensity of him, it’s almost too much—but you don’t want him to stop.

You come in seconds, your hips pushing up as your orgasm rolls through you, the pleasure so high it steals every bit of breath from your lungs.

The second your body slacks, he pulls out, only to flip you onto your stomach, making you gasp as he drags the thick head of his cock through your slick heat before pushing back in with one deep claiming stroke.

The bed shakes as he takes you from the back, his hands pulling you into every hard unrelenting thrust as he fucks you incoherent against the mattress.

“Benny,” you moan, your face flushed, your cheek pressed to the sheets as the bed rocks beneath you. His hands grip your hips, holding you steady as he fucks you harder, faster, rendering you senseless, each snap of his hips, pushing you deeper into mind-numbing bliss.

“This what you wanted?” he demands his voice loud and rough.

You whimper, desperate, breathless, your fingers clutching at the sheets. “Yes—Benny—y-es,” you cry, barely able to form words as he pounds into you over and over, his pace unrelenting pushing you past every limit.

His rough fingers find your clit and your eyes roll back as he goes harder, deeper, until all you can do is moan, your body shuddering as he finally groans, burying himself deep, his release pulsing from his cock as you come together.

For a moment, all that fills the room is ragged breathing.

Then Benny laughs breathlessly pulling out, your body aching from the loss, “Damn sweetheart,” he exhales laying onto his back. “Hope you didn’t have any plans after this.” He says pulling you to his chest.

You grin, looking up at his handsome face, your body weak and spent. “I think you just made ‘em for me, Benny,” you confess, and as he looks at you his blue eyes darken. He pulls you in for a long lingering kiss, pouring all his feelings into it, already hooked on you—Because you like a challenge and you always get what you want.

END 🏍️

🔗Masterlist

🏷️ Always Tag Me List

@purejasmine @burnthheparaphilia @butdaddyilovehim99 @austinbutlerfly @mrs-hardy-hunnam-butler-pascal @lindszeppelin @abswifey @aust-een @umika @feralgodmothers @psycheetamore @megangovier @magicovento @obsessedvibee @austiebuttbutt @faegoddessog @dunevitani @unicoo @thejoywillburnoutthepain @jessica987 @slowsweetlove @hardcoredisneynerd @finley-08 @thegabbyh @thefallofthedamned @buckysteveloki-me @bucking-mustangs-with-wings @shegatsby @darlingisntit @lovereadingfanfic @denised916 @shockercoco @minispice-1 @i5uckersblog @ughdontbeboring @meetmeatyourworst @avidreader/3 @xxmandaveexx @mamawiggers1980 @12joeywheelerfangirl @imjustheretoreadsmuthaha @missjadesticsreblog @gravesdiggergirl @nostalgichoya @stars-remain2 @skulliecadaver-blog @jjubilee-fluff

[viagracex]

Hellooooooo I was wondering if you can write a George fan fic about the song wildest dreams by Taylor swift I also really love your writing keep up the great work

Holding Onto Smoke

george clarkey x fem!reader

summary: say you'll see me again even if it's just in your wildest dreams. based on the song wildest dreams by taylor swift

warnings: no major content warnings

1.6k words

Masterlist

₊ ˚ ˚ ₊ ‧ 。☆ 。‧₊ ˚ ˚ ₊ ‧ 。☆ 。‧₊ ˚ ˚ ₊ ‧ 。☆ 。‧₊ ˚ ˚ ₊

The first time you met George Clarkey, the city lights were too bright, and the air hummed with late-night possibilities.

It was a rooftop party, the kind that smelled like cheap champagne and cigarettes, where laughter echoed between high-rises, and strangers became stories you’d tell years from now. You weren’t supposed to be there. Neither was he.

He found you leaning against the railing, watching the city sprawl below like you were trying to memorize it.

“You look like you’ve got a secret,” he said, his voice a low tease.

You turned to find him watching you, the skyline casting a glow across his face, messy curls brushing against his forehead. His gaze flicked to your lips, then back to your eyes. 

“Maybe I do.”

He grinned. “Want to tell me?”

You should have walked away then. Should have never let him take your hand, never let him lead you into the kind of love that leaves bruises on your heart. But you didn’t.

For weeks, it was stolen moments and promises that never felt real. He’d show up at your apartment late at night, breathless, like he had been running just to see you. You’d press your fingers against his pulse, feeling the way it raced beneath your touch, and wonder if he knew you were already falling.

George became your wildest dream come true, a whirlwind romance that swept you off your feet. Late-night drives through the city, his hand resting on your thigh as streetlights blurred past. Stolen kisses in hidden corners of bookshops, the scent of old pages mingling with his cologne. Lazy Sunday mornings tangled in sheets, sunlight painting patterns across his freckled shoulders as you traced constellations on his skin.

You fell hard and fast, drunk on the dizzy rush of new love. George's eyes lit up when he looked at you, like you were the most fascinating person he'd ever met. His laugh was infectious, head thrown back with abandon. You found yourself doing things you never imagined - singing karaoke in dive bars, skinny dipping under a full moon, dancing in the rain on empty streets, whispering secrets into the crook of his neck. 

"What are you thinking?" he'd ask, catching you staring.

"That I want to remember this forever," you'd reply. He'd pull you close, kissing you slow and deep, like he was trying to etch the memory into your skin. You'd run your fingers through his hair, marvelling at how someone so vibrant could be real.

But even as you fell deeper, a nagging voice whispered that this couldn't last. George was like a shooting star - brilliant, beautiful, and destined to burn out.

You saw it in the way his eyes sometimes drifted to the horizon, searching for something just out of reach. In the restless tapping of his fingers against your skin, a morse code of unspoken goodbyes. In the way he smiled when you talked about the future soft, bittersweet, like he already knew how the story would end.

“This doesn’t feel real,” you admitted one night, curled up in the dim glow of your bedroom, his hoodie swallowing your frame.

George’s fingers skimmed over your wrist, thoughtful, lingering. "Maybe that’s the point, maybe it's real enough for now."

You didn’t answer. You just pressed your forehead against his chest, eyes squeezed shut, hoping that if you held on tight enough, the world would forget to take him away.

But you both knew better.

He wasn’t yours to keep.

You tried not to think about it—about the way time was slipping through your fingers. But every touch felt like a goodbye, every kiss tasted like a memory.

And still, you stayed.

Because some people are worth breaking for.

The week before he left, you stood together on that same rooftop where you first met. The city stretched out before you, a glittering tapestry of lights and promises. You wore that red dress he loved, the one that made you feel invincible. His arm was around your waist, warm and steady, anchoring you to the moment.

"I wish we could freeze time," you whispered, your voice catching. "Just stay here forever."

George's fingers tightened on your hip. "We'll always have this," he murmured, his lips brushing your temple. "No matter what happens, no one can take these memories from us."

You turned to face him, memorizing every detail - the curve of his jaw,  his clear blue eyes, the way his hair curled at the nape of his neck. Your heart ached with the weight of everything unsaid.

"Promise me something," you said, your fingers tracing the line of his collarbone. "Promise you'll remember me like this. Standing here, in this dress, watching the sunset with you. Remember how much I love you, even when I'm just a distant memory."

George's eyes shimmered with unshed tears. He cupped your face in his hands, his touch infinitely gentle. "I could never forget you," he whispered fiercely. "You're etched into my soul. Even if we never see each other again, you'll always be with me. In my thoughts, in my dreams."

You kissed him then, pouring every ounce of love and longing into that embrace. The city faded away, leaving only the two of you suspended in time. When you finally broke apart, both breathless, you rested your forehead against his.

"I love you," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the distant hum of traffic below. "I'll always love you."

George's arms tightened around you as if to shield you from the truth. ”I—” His throat bobbed. He stopped, swallowing hard, the words trapped behind his teeth. 

And that—

That was worse than if he had said nothing at all.

George's silence hung heavy between you, filled with everything left unsaid. You could feel his heartbeat, rapid and uneven, echoing your own. The city stretched out before you, a glittering constellation of lights and possibilities, now tinged with the bittersweet ache of farewell.

You pulled back slightly, searching his face. His eyes were dark pools of emotion, reflecting the fading sunlight and the weight of your shared memories. Still, you clung to every moment. You memorized the curve of his smile, the sound of his laugh, the way he said your name like a prayer. You traced the curve of his cheek with trembling fingers, committing every detail to memory.

The last time you saw him, the city smelled like rain.

The neon signs flickered in the puddles at your feet, the world a blur of color and noise. His suitcase sat by his side, damp with drizzle, the taxi idling at the curb.

You wanted to tell him not to go. Wanted to scream, to beg, to tell him that you had memorized everything—his laugh, the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled, the way he looked at you like you were the only thing in the world.

But you didn’t. Because you knew better.

Instead, you reached for him one last time, your fingertips brushing against the stubble on his jaw, rough against your skin, before tangling in his curls. You needed to remember how he felt. Every last detail before he became nothing more than a memory you could never quite hold onto. He kissed you like he was trying to burn the memory into his bones, like maybe if he kissed you hard enough, you’d still be there when he turned around.

The silence stretched between you, his breathe hitched, and for the first time you saw it, his lips parting his throat bobbing, the smallest tramble in his fingers as he reached for you. His arms wrapping around you. You tightened your grip, but it felt like holding onto smoke, weightless. No matter how hard you tried, he had already slipped through your fingers vanishing before you ever had the chance to keep it. The city lights cast harsh shadows across his face, making him look like someone you once knew. The lights blurred as tears filled your eyes.

"I should go," George murmured, his voice rough with emotion. But he made no move to leave, his fingers tracing patterns on your back as if trying to memorize the feeling.

You nodded against his chest, unable to form words past the lump in your throat. The night air felt suddenly cold, and you shivered, pressing closer to his warmth.

"Just... a few more minutes," you whispered.

George tightened his embrace, resting his chin on top of your head. You breathed in his familiar scent - sandalwood and coffee and something uniquely him - committing it to memory.

The city hummed around you, oblivious to your private heartbreak. A siren wailed in the distance, and a gust of wind ruffled your hair. You thought about all the moments that had led to this one - the late-night conversations, the shared dreams, the quiet intimacy of simply existing in the same space.

“I’ll see you around?” His voice was hoarse, like he didn’t believe it either.

You swallowed down the ache, the words cutting your throat like glass. “In your wildest dreams.”

And then he was gone.

Just like that.

Just like he was always meant to be.

The city swallowed you whole, and you let it.

And in the quiet of your room that night, as you pressed your face into the pillow that still smelled like him, you whispered a prayer to the universe.

You hoped he remembered you.

You prayed that, even years from now, when he closed his eyes, he’d still see you—standing beneath the city lights, red dress glowing, lips parted, whispering I love you. 

Always. 

Only In his wildest dreams.

[mattsobvimyfav]

Different (Matthew Sturniolo)

When Y/N starts college, she's eager for a fresh start and new opportunities. Assigned a partner for a lab, she meets Matthew Sturniolo, who seems charming and capable at first glance. But as their partnership progresses, Y/N begins to uncover unsettling truths about Matthew's character, throwing her college journey entirely off.

part 2

A month had passed, and things had settled into a comfortable rhythm. School was still a grind, but with the first few weeks behind me, I was finally finding my balance. Matt and Chris had become a regular part of my days—more than just classmates, they were now part of my circle.

Matt and I were partners in lab now, a decision made by sheer luck in the seating arrangement that had somehow worked out perfectly. Our conversations, which used to be casual, had grown more comfortable, a little flirtatious even, though I never took it too seriously.

Today was different. We had a big experiment to finish in lab, one that was taking longer than expected. My concentration was waning, my mind starting to wander. Matt was across the table from me, meticulously measuring out the chemicals for our next step, his brow furrowed in concentration. I sat back, waiting for him to finish up, tapping my pen against the lab notebook in front of me.

“Hey,” I said, breaking the silence as I scribbled another note on the lab sheet. “Could you grab me the beaker from the shelf? I think we’re almost ready to mix this.”

Matt glanced over at me, his eyes sharp but with a teasing glint. “Which shelf?”

I pointed lazily to the far side of the room, where a row of shelves lined the wall. “The one next to the Bunsen burners.”

He got up from his stool, standing tall as he stretched slightly. “Alright, but…” His voice trailed off as he turned to look at me, a mischievous smirk forming on his lips. “What’s in it for me?”

I raised an eyebrow at him, playing along. “In it for you? It’s called teamwork, Matt.”

He chuckled, the sound low and easy, “Yeah, yeah, teamwork. But maybe I need a little incentive this time.”

I scoffed, leaning back in my chair. “Incentive? What, you want me to do your part of the write-up or something?”

Matt stopped in his tracks, turning back to face me fully. His smirk deepened, and there was something in his expression—something daring and cocky—that made me sit up straighter. “Nah, I’ve got a better idea,” he said, his tone casual but edged with amusement. “I’ll grab the beaker if you give me head.”

The words hit me like a shockwave, and for a moment, I thought I’d misheard him. My eyes widened as I processed what he’d just said. “What?” I asked, my voice caught between disbelief and laughter.

“You heard me,” Matt said, leaning casually against the edge of the table, his arms crossed. He was grinning now, clearly enjoying my reaction. “I’ll get the beaker if you… you know.”

I stared at him, trying to figure out if he was serious or just messing with me. Judging by the way his grin hadn’t faltered, he wasn’t backing down.

“Oh, really?” I said, finally recovering from my initial shock. I leaned forward, meeting his gaze head-on. “That’s your price? A little bold, don’t you think?”

He shrugged, still smirking. “Hey, I’m just saying. A fair trade, right?”

I could feel a smirk forming on my own lips now, fueled by the ridiculousness of the situation. Two could play this game. “Alright, Matt,” I said coolly, leaning back in my chair. “Go grab the beaker.”

His grin faltered slightly, and he tilted his head at me, “Really?”

“Yeah,” I said with a shrug, keeping my tone nonchalant even though my heart was pounding. 

Matt’s expression shifted from amused to something more cautious, like he was trying to figure out if I was bluffing. “You’re serious?” he asked, his voice quieter now.

I met his gaze without flinching, my smirk unwavering. “Yeah?”

There was a long pause as Matt stared at me, his confidence seemingly wavering for the first time. He let out a low laugh, shaking his head. “Alright then.”

He grabbed the beaker and brought it back to our station, setting it down with a soft clink.

“See?” I said, picking up the beaker and placing it carefully on the rack. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

He laughed again, looking down at his pants and smirking. “Harder than you think.”

I shrugged, focusing on the lab work in front of me as though nothing had happened. “You’ll live, Matt. Let’s finish this before we blow something up.”

“Nah, I’d actually love to see you blow something.”

“Die.” I deadpanned and he laughed hard. 

We left the lab together, the sun starting to set as we walked out into the parking lot. Matt’s car was parked in its usual spot. 

“You want shotgun or the trunk?” Matt asked with a smirk, unlocking the doors.

“Wow, such a gentleman,” I said, sliding into the passenger seat. “How do girls resist you?”

“They don't,” he replied, shrugging as he plopped into the driver’s seat.

As soon as he started the car, he reached into the console and pulled out his rolling kit. It was a well-practiced routine by now—grinding the weed, spreading it evenly onto the paper. I watched him without meaning to, my gaze lingering as he carefully rolled the blunt.

And then he licked the edge of the paper to seal it.

I froze for a second, feeling heat creep up my neck. The way his tongue ran along the edge, slow and deliberate, sent a ripple of uninvited thoughts through my mind. I tried to shake them off, but my body betrayed me, and I shifted uncomfortably in my seat.

“Relax,” Matt said without looking up, grinning as if he could sense the tension. “It’s just a blunt.”

“Whatever,” I mumbled, tearing my eyes away and staring out the window.

Since hanging out with Matt and Chris, I’d been smoking a lot more than I ever thought I would. The haze of weed had become a regular backdrop to our conversations and late-night drives, and I’d started to crave the quiet calm it brought, even when Matt’s presence kept me on edge.

He lit the blunt and took a deep drag, exhaling smoothly as he turned up the music. The bass-heavy beat filled the car, and I let the sound drown out my wandering thoughts.

“Hungry?” he asked after a moment, glancing over at me.

“Always,” I said, already knowing where this was headed.

“Drive-thru or sit-down?”

“Drive-thru,” I said quickly. The idea of being in public right now, especially after that blunt, sounded exhausting.

“Good call,” he said, taking another hit before passing the blunt to me. “Where to?”

“Anywhere with fries,” I said, taking the blunt from him and inhaling. The smoke filled my lungs, and I felt the tension in my body start to melt away.

We pulled into the drive-thru as the sky darkened around us. By the time we had the bags of greasy goodness in the car, the smell alone was enough to make my mouth water.

“Fries first,” Matt said, shoving a handful into his mouth before pulling out of the lot.

“You’re an animal,” I said, 

“An animal who shares,” he replied, holding out a fry in front of my mouth.

I laughed, biting it from his hand. “Generous. I’ll give you that.”

We drove in comfortable silence for a while, the music playing softly as we ate. Every so often, Matt would make a sarcastic comment about something in a song I picked or the random people we passed on the street.

By the time we got back to my place, the blunt was long gone, and my buzz was in full effect. Matt pulled into the driveway and cut the engine, turning to me with that familiar smirk.

“Who’s your favorite chauffeur, huh?” he said.

“You, of course Matthew,” I tapped his chest as I opened the door.

He leaned back in his seat, watching me. “That’s all I get?”

I grinned, stepping out of the car. “See you tomorrow, Matt.”

“Later, Y/N.”

I shut the door behind me, heading inside.

A couple hours later I was sprawled across my bed, lazily scrolling through my phone when it buzzed in my hand. Matt’s name lit up the screen.

“Hey,” I answered, sitting up slightly.

“Hey,” his voice came through, casual and smooth, but there was a hint of something teasing in his tone, as always. “What are you up to?”

“Nothing much,” I replied. “Why?”

“Chris and I are just hanging out. Thought you might want to come over. Chill, watch a movie or something.”

“Yeah, sure,” I said.

“Cool,” Matt replied. “Bring yourself, and maybe some snacks if you’re feeling generous.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “No.”

After we hung up, I shuffled over to my dresser, pulling out a pair of black biker shorts and an oversized sweatshirt. Comfort was key, especially if we were just lounging around. I quickly changed, grabbed my keys, and headed out.

The drive to Matt and Chris’ place was short, and by now, familiar. I parked in the driveway and made my way up to the door, knocking once before letting myself in.

The scent of weed hit me almost immediately, and I wasn’t surprised to see Chris sitting on the couch, a joint in one hand and a controller in the other. Matt was lounging in the chair nearby, scrolling through his phone.

“Look who decided to show up,” Matt said with a grin, glancing up at me.

“Lucky you,” I shot back, closing the door behind me.

Chris looked over, offering a nod in greeting. “What’s up, Y/N?”

“Not much,” I said, plopping onto the couch beside him. As I glanced around, I noticed something—or rather, someone—was missing. “Where’s Charlie?”

Chris shrugged, taking a drag from the joint. “Haven’t seen her in a couple of days. She’s been acting all secretive lately. Weird vibes, you know?”

I frowned. Charlie had been doing the same to me, Ignoring me, not hanging out. “Secretive how?”

“Like… I don’t know,” Chris said, exhaling a cloud of smoke. “She’s just been off. Doesn’t say much, dips early when she is around.”

Matt chimed in from the chair. “She’s probably just dealing with some shit. People get like that sometimes.”

I nodded. 

“Well, if you hear anything, let me know,” I said, settling deeper into the couch.

Chris nodded. “For sure.”

“So,” Matt said, clapping his hands together and standing up. “What kind of movie are we watching tonight, Y/N? Your pick.”

I thought for a moment, scrolling through the mental list of my favorite genres. “Horror,” I said finally.

Matt raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Horror? Didn’t peg you as the type.”

“You will never peg me, and why the fuck not?” I challenged.

He shrugged. “I will,” he joked back, “but you just don’t seem like the ‘scare-me-stupid’ kind of person.”

Chris chuckled. “Nah, she seems like a ‘fuck-me-stupid type of person.”

“Shut up,” I said, throwing a pillow at him.

“Alright, horror it is,” Matt said, walking over to the TV. He started scrolling through a streaming service, muttering titles under his breath. “The Conjuring? Hereditary? Oh, how about Evil Dead?”

“Evil Dead,” I said quickly. “Classic.”

Matt grinned. “Good choice.”

As he queued up the movie, I kicked off my shoes and got comfortable on the couch. Chris passed me the joint, and I took a small hit, letting the smoke calm my nerves.

The movie started, and the room fell into a comfortable silence, broken only by the occasional crack of a soda can or the crunch of chips. I tried to focus on the screen, but my attention kept drifting. Maybe it was the dim lighting, the warmth of the room, or the way Matt occasionally glanced over at me with that ever-present smirk.

By the time the first jump scare hit, Chris laughed loudly as I flinched, but Matt just leaned back in his chair, completely unfazed.

“Not scared, huh?” Matt teased, glancing over at me.

I rolled my eyes, pulling the blanket up to my chin. “It’s a good movie. That’s all.”

“Sure it is,” he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

The movie ended with the final screams of the protagonist echoing in the room, and Chris stretched, letting out a yawn. “That was solid,” he said, rubbing his eyes. “But I’m beat.”

I checked the time on my phone and realized how late it had gotten. “Yeah, I'll probably get going,” I said, standing up and stretching.

Chris shook his head, sitting up on the couch. “Why? We’ve got class together tomorrow. Just stay over. We’ll all head out in the morning.”

I hesitated, my mind immediately running through excuses. “I don’t have any clothes, though. And I need to shower.”

Matt, who had been lounging in the armchair, glanced over at me with a casual shrug. “You can shower here. It’s not a big deal. I can find you some pajamas or something.”

Before I could respond, Chris jumped in, smirking. “Yeah, and you could borrow one of my shirts or sweatshirts for tomorrow.”

I raised an eyebrow, looking between the two of them. “You guys are really selling this sleepover idea.”

Chris grinned, leaning back on the couch. “What can I say? We’re great hosts. Plus, it’s way easier than driving home and then having to meet us again tomorrow.”

Matt nodded in agreement. “He’s got a point. Might as well save yourself the trouble.”

I bit my lip, still unsure. I hadn’t exactly planned for a sleepover, but they did make a good argument. And the thought of not having to deal with the early morning drive was tempting.

“Fine,” I said finally, crossing my arms. “But I’m showering before bed, and I’m borrowing something decent to wear. Not some of the ugly shit I see you guys wear.”

Matt smirked, standing up and stretching. “Deal. I’ll grab you a pair of shorts and a shirt.”

I followed him down the hall to grab whatever he was offering, and a part of me couldn’t help but smile at how casual the whole thing was. 

I stood under the hot spray of the shower, letting the stress of the day wash away. The warmth was soothing.

After rinsing out the shampoo and washing off the remnants of the day, I stepped out, wrapping myself in a towel. Matt’s shirt—a soft, slightly oversized band tee—was folded neatly on the counter. I slipped it over my head, the fabric falling just below my butt, brushing against the tops of my thighs. It smelled like him—woodsy cologne with a faint hint of something sweet.

I debated for a second before ultimately deciding to forgo the shorts. The shirt was long enough to cover everything, and I hate wearing pants to bed. It felt comfortable, casual.

When I walked out of the bathroom, the cool air hit my damp skin, sending a small shiver down my spine. I made my way to Matt’s room and pushed the door open without knocking.

He was sitting on the edge of his bed, scrolling on his phone, but he looked up when I walked in. His gaze lingered for a moment, his eyes scanning me from head to toe.

“Here,” he said, holding out a hairbrush. “You’ll want this. Can’t have you looking like a wet dog in the morning.”

I rolled my eyes but took the brush from his hand, plopping down at his desk. The mirror above it reflected my image, and I started brushing through my damp hair, wincing at the occasional tangle.

Matt leaned back on his bed, his eyes still on me. “You know,” he said after a moment, his tone lighter, teasing, “you look really good in my clothes.”

I paused, lifting my arms to brush through the underside of my hair. The motion made the shirt rise slightly, exposing more of my thighs. When I glanced in the mirror, Matt’s gaze had shifted downward.

I smirked, lowering the brush. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he said, his lips quirking into that familiar smirk of his. “But I bet you’d look even better without them.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “Subtle as always, Matt.”

He grinned, leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “What? Just speaking the truth. You can’t blame me for appreciating your body.”

“Well, appreciate it from over there,” I shot back, brushing through another section of my hair.

“Fine,” he said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “But you can’t be mad when I keep staring. You’re the one walking around in my shirt with no pants on.”

“It’s long enough to count as a dress,” I countered.

“A very short dress,” he corrected, leaning back on his hands. “One wrong move, and—”

“Alright, enough,” I said, turning to glare at him, though I couldn’t keep the grin off my face. “You’re worse than Chris.”

He laughed, tilting his head. “Nah, Chris would’ve already made some dumbass comment about being a ‘gentleman’ and offering to help you into bed.”

I snorted, shaking my head. “You guys are the worst.”

“Maybe,” Matt admitted, standing up and walking over to me. He leaned against the desk, his proximity making the room feel even smaller. “But you keep coming around, so we can’t be that bad.”

I looked up at him, still holding the brush in my hand. “You’re the lucky one, Matt.”

“Lucky’s one word for it,” he said, his voice dropping slightly.

The air between us shifted, and for a moment, I wasn’t sure what was happening. But then he smiled, breaking the tension. “Hurry up, I want you in my bed”

I rolled my eyes, turning back to the mirror and resuming my brushing. Matt lingered for a moment before stepping back toward his bed.

I finished brushing through my hair, smoothing it down before setting the brush on the desk. When I turned, Matt was sprawled out on his bed, his arm resting casually behind his head. 

The faint glow of red LED lights around his TV cast shadows across his face, highlighting the sharp edges of his jaw and cheekbones. He looked unreal, like something out of a book—effortlessly attractive, and entirely too aware of it.

“Are you just gonna stand there, or are you getting in?” he asked, his voice low and teasing.

I rolled my eyes but walked over, slipping under the covers on the side of the bed he wasn’t occupying. The sheets were soft, I kept a little distance between us, settling on my side, but my heart was racing for reasons I couldn’t fully explain.

The red glow bathed everything in warmth, but it only seemed to make the space between us feel more charged. I could feel Matt’s presence next to me, his body heat radiating in the small gap we’d left.

I tried to focus on anything else, but my mind betrayed me, looping back to the moments I’d caught myself staring at him, how his hands looked when he rolled a blunt, the way his lips curved when he smirked, the tattoos that peeked out from beneath his sleeves. 

I hadn’t allowed myself to linger on those thoughts before, but now, in the quiet intimacy of his room, they consumed me.

I shifted slightly, glancing over at him. He was propped up on one elbow now, watching me with a lazy smirk that made my stomach twist.

“What?” I asked, my voice quieter than I intended.

“You,” he said simply, his eyes glinting in the red light. “You’re all stiff. Relax.”

“I’m relaxed,” I countered, though the tension in my body betrayed me.

He didn’t reply, just kept watching me, his gaze heavy. It was as if he could see right through me, see the way my thoughts were spiraling. I tried to look away, but he reached out, his fingers brushing against my chin, gently turning my face back toward him.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asked, his voice soft but laced with curiosity.

“Like what?” I asked, though my voice wavered.

“Like you want me,” he said, his smirk widening.

I swallowed hard, my brain scrambling for a response, but before I could think of one, he leaned in, closing the small gap between us. His lips brushed against mine, tentative at first, as if he was waiting for me to pull away.

But I didn’t.

Instead, I leaned into him, my hand instinctively reaching up to rest on his chest. The kiss deepened, his hand sliding to the small of my back, pulling me closer until there was no space left between us. His lips were warm and soft, moving against mine with a mix of patience and hunger that left me breathless.

The red glow of the lights seemed to pulse around us, painting the room in a haze that felt almost dreamlike. I let myself get lost in the moment, my fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as his hand trailed along my side, just beneath the hem of the one I was wearing.

“Y/N,” he murmured against my lips, his voice a low rasp that sent a shiver down my spine.

I pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, my breathing unsteady. His eyes were darker now.

He smiled, his hand shifting slightly, his thumb brushing against the bare skin of my waist. “You’re dangerous, you know that?”

I raised an eyebrow, my lips curving into a small smile. “Me? Dangerous? You’re the one who started this.”

“Maybe,” he admitted, leaning in to kiss me again. “But you’re the one who’s making it impossible to stop.”

And for the rest of the night, I didn’t want him to.

The soft rays of sunlight filtered through the blinds, casting streaks of warm light across Matt’s room. I blinked against the brightness, groaning softly as I shifted beneath the covers. My body was heavy with sleep, but my mind was wide awake, replaying the events of the previous night like a broken record.

Matt was still asleep beside me, sprawled out on his stomach with one arm hanging off the bed. His dark hair was a messy tangle, and his face was half-buried in the pillow, making his sharp features seem softer in the morning light. He looked so peaceful, so unlike the cocky, teasing version of him I was used to.

But that wasn’t what had my attention. No, my thoughts were stuck on the way his lips felt against mine, the way his hands had skimmed over my waist, pulling me closer as if he couldn’t get enough.

I let out a quiet sigh, staring up at the ceiling. It wasn’t like I had feelings for Matt. That wasn’t what this was about. But damn, the guy could kiss.

A smirk tugged at the corner of my lips as I replayed the way he’d leaned in, the way his touch had sent little shocks through my body. It wasn’t just the physicality of it—it was the way he seemed so confident, like he knew exactly what he was doing and exactly what I wanted.

I wondered, fleetingly, what else he was good at.

The thought made my cheeks heat, and I rolled onto my side, burying my face in the pillow to hide from my own embarrassment. It wasn’t like I was planning to find out. Last night had been a spur-of-the-moment thing, fueled by proximity and a little too much unspoken tension.

I let out another sigh, forcing myself to sit up. The oversized shirt I’d borrowed from him slipped off one shoulder, the fabric soft against my skin. My hair was still slightly damp from last night’s shower, and I ran a hand through it, trying to shake off the lingering fog of sleep and the memories threatening to take over.

Beside me, Matt stirred, his head turning slightly on the pillow. For a moment, I thought he might wake up, but he just let out a soft groan and shifted, settling back into his slumber.

Shaking my head, I slid out of bed as quietly as I could. My legs felt wobbly, a mix of morning stiffness and the remnants of whatever spell he’d cast over me the night before.

I was in the middle of pulling on my biker shorts when the door creaked open. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw Chris standing in the doorway, his eyebrows raising slightly as he took in the scene.

“Well, don’t stop on my account,” he said, his smirk immediate.

“Chris,” I said flatly, covering my chest as I reached for my sports bra. “Ever heard of knocking?”

He shrugged, leaning against the doorframe like he had no intention of leaving. “Where’s the fun in that? Besides, I’m just appreciating the view.”

Sliding the straps of my bra over my shoulders, I gave him a pointed look. “Don’t you have a girlfriend to be saying that kind of thing to?”

Chris grinned, unabashed. “Sure, but sharing isn’t wrong, right? You look good, Y/N—just saying.”

“Shut up.” I couldn’t help the laugh that escaped as I grabbed my hair tie, securing my messy hair into a loose bun. “If you’re done being a creep, what do you want?”

He walked over, holding out a black zip-up hoodie. “Figured you might want something warmer, and this is a classic. Looks good on everyone.”

I shook my head, pulling on the hoodie and zipping it halfway, letting the band of my sports bra peek through. “There. Happy now?”

Chris tilted his head, giving me a once-over. “Very. You wear it well, Y/N.”

“Yeah, yeah you just said it looks good on everyone. Now go wake up your brother.”

Chris laughed, turning toward Matt’s bed. He nudged Matt’s shoulder, earning a muffled groan in response. “Yo, wake up, kid. We’re gonna be late, and I can’t keep Y/N entertained all morning.”

Matt turned his head, groggy eyes narrowing as he looked at Chris. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

Chris smirked, jerking his thumb back toward me. “I’m just saying you better get at that soon before I do.”

Matt’s eyes flicked to me for a moment, taking in the sight of me in Chris’s hoodie. He blinked, his expression unreadable before he groaned and buried his face back into the pillow. “You’re both annoying. Leave me alone.”

Chris laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. “C’mon, man. Don’t sleep on this opportunity.”

I rolled my eyes, crossing my arms as I leaned against the desk. “Are you done playing matchmaker? Because I’m about to leave both of you behind.”

Chris raised his hands in surrender, grinning. “Alright, alright. I’ll leave you two alone. But seriously, Matt, get up.”

As Chris left the room, I leaned back in the chair, adjusting the hoodie and smirking to myself. Boys were exhausted, but at least they were entertaining.

The drive to class was quiet for the most part. Matt was behind the wheel, one hand lazily gripping the steering wheel while the other rested on the gearshift. Chris sat in the passenger seat, fiddling with the aux cord to pick a playlist, while I sat in the back, watching the world blur past through the window.

“Y/N, what do you wanna listen to?” Chris asked, glancing at me over his shoulder.

“Anything but country,” I replied, leaning back against the seat.

Chris turned back around “Glad we are on the same page.”

“Play something calm though. It’s early.” I said back, earning a chuckle from Matt.

“She’s got a point,” Matt said, smirking as Chris put on the neighborhood, earning a grin from me. 

The rest of the ride was filled with music and light banter. When we pulled into the parking lot, Chris hopped out first, holding the door open for me with a mock bow. “After you, princess.”

“Thank yew,” I quipped, stepping out and adjusting my bag.

Matt locked the car, and the three of us headed to class together, slipping into our usual seats near the back of the lecture hall. The room filled quickly, and just as the professor was setting up, Charlie walked in.

Before she even had the chance to sit down, Chris was already on his feet. “Hallway. Now,” he said, his voice steady, leaving no room for argument.

Charlie blinked, caught off guard, but didn’t protest. She just sighed and followed him out of the lecture hall. 

Matt shot me a look, and I shrugged. Five minutes passed, and my patience ran out. I nudged him. “Let’s go.”

He didn’t hesitate. We slipped out quietly, finding them a few doors down. Their voices were low but carried just enough for us to hear.

“I don’t know what’s been up with you, but I’m not playing this game,” Chris said, his tone completely even. Not angry. Not upset. Just done.

Charlie huffed. “What game?”

Chris let out a breath like this was exhausting. “You’ve been weird all week. Distant. Off. I’m not about to sit around and guess what’s going on. That’s not me.”

“I’ve just had a lot on my mind,” she tried, her voice tight.

“Cool,” Chris said. “Then you can handle it without me.”

Silence stretched between them. Matt shifted beside me, and Chris glanced over, catching us. His face didn’t hold any annoyance, just something like relief. “Are you ready to leave? Im not sitting in this fuck ass class today.” he asked us.

“Yeah.” I stepped into view without hesitation.

We got back to Matt and Chris’s place without much conversation. Chris didn’t seem to care about the breakup at all—if anything, he looked more relaxed than I’d seen him in days. Matt grabbed a beer from the fridge, tossing one to Chris, and I settled onto the arm of the couch, still trying to process everything.

“So that’s just it?” I asked, looking at Chris.

He cracked open the beer and took a sip before answering. “Yeah. That’s just it.”

“No second thoughts?”

Chris smirked. “Second thoughts are for people who care.”

Matt let out a laugh, shaking his head. “Kids got a point.”

Before I could respond, there was a sharp knock at the door. Chris and Matt exchanged a look.

“You expecting someone?” Chris asked.

Matt shrugged and got up to answer it. As soon as he opened the door, two guys stepped inside like they’d done it a hundred times before. They both had that twitchy, wired energy—eyes shifting, hands in their hoodie pockets.

One of them nodded at Matt. “You got it?”

Matt didn’t even hesitate. “Yeah, hold up.”

He disappeared down the hall, and when he came back, he was holding a small bag. Not weed. This was different—white powder, packed tight. 

Cocaine.

I must’ve made a face because Chris glanced at me and smirked. “What, you didn’t know?”

I stared at him. “You guys sell coke?”

Chris shrugged like it was the most normal thing in the world. “Yeah hun, a lot more than coke.”

Matt handed the bag over, and the guy passed him a wad of cash in return. Quick. Clean. Efficient.

I shook my head, still trying to wrap my mind around it. “I thought you guys just had money because of your jobs.”

Chris laughed, taking another sip of his beer. “That’s cute.”

The guys left without another word, and Matt locked the door behind them before turning back to me, grinning. “You good?”

I hesitated, “Yeah. Just… wasn’t expecting that.”

Chris clapped me on the back as he passed me. “Welcome to the real world, babe.”

I stayed at Matt and Chris’s for a little while after their business wrapped up, but eventually, I pushed myself off the couch, stretching. “I should head home. Need my own clothes and stuff.”

Chris, still laser-focused on his game, barely acknowledged me. “You say that like you don’t want to be here.”

Matt smirked. “You sure you don’t just wanna crash again?”

I rolled my eyes. “I’ll be back. I just don’t wanna keep smelling like dude and weed.”

Chris snorted. “Could be worse.”

I flipped him off, grabbed my bag, and headed for the door. “Later, assholes.”

Matt gave a lazy “Bye Sweetheart,” and Chris just grunted in response.

The drive home was quiet. By the time I pulled into my driveway, it was already getting dark, and something immediately felt off.

The living room light was on.

I frowned. I hadn’t left it that way.

Stepping inside, I was hit with the smell of food—garlic, butter, something sizzling. Then I heard movement in the kitchen.

And then I saw him.

My dad.

Standing at the stove, stirring something in a pan like this was totally normal.

I blinked. “You’re home.”

He turned at the sound of my voice, like I was the one who wasn’t supposed to be here. “Yeah,” he said, wiping his hands on a dish towel. “Figured it was time.”

I dropped my bag by the door and leaned against the frame. “Time for what?”

His jaw tensed, but he didn’t bite at the obvious attitude in my tone. “To be home.”

I just nodded, taking it in. I wasn’t mad, not really. Just… surprised. I hadn’t expected to see him again so soon.

“You eaten?” he asked.

I shook my head.

“Good,” he said, nodding toward the table. “Sit. I made enough for two.”

I hesitated, just for a second, before pulling out a chair and sitting down. 

I pushed my chair back, the legs scraping against the floor. “I’m going back to Matt and Chris’s.”

Dad’s eyes snapped to me, his brows pulling together. “Matt and Chris who?”

I grabbed my bag, slinging it over my shoulder. “Sturniolo.”

His whole face shifted, his expression darkening. “No.”

I froze, gripping the strap of my bag tighter. “Excuse me?”

“I said no,” he repeated, standing up. “You’re not going over there.”

I huffed out a laugh, shaking my head. “You can’t just waltz back in and start making rules.”

He ignored that. “Do you even know who those boys are? My cop friends talk about them all the time. They’re bad news, Y/N.”

I scoffed. “Oh, so now you care who I hang out with?”

“This isn’t a joke,” he said, his voice sharp. “You don’t need to be involved with kids like that.”

I crossed my arms, leveling him with a look. “Yeah? Well, too late.”

His jaw clenched. “You don’t know what they’re into.”

I stared at him for a second, debating whether to push it further. Instead, I just shook my head and turned toward the door. “I’ll see you whenever you decide to show up again.”

“Y/N—”

But I didn’t let him finish. I walked out, slamming the door behind me.

The drive back to Matt and Chris’s was quicker than usual, mostly because I was gripping the wheel so tight I might as well have been trying to crush it. My dad just showing up out of nowhere was one thing, but acting like he suddenly got a say in my life? Telling me who I could and couldn’t hang out with? Bad news. Please. Like I didn’t already know exactly who Matt and Chris were.

By the time I pulled into their driveway, my head was still spinning. I didn’t bother knocking—I just walked in, letting the door swing shut behind me.

Both of them looked up from their spots on the couch. Chris raised an eyebrow. “Well, good to see you too.”

“That was fast,” Matt added, smirking.

I dropped my bag onto the floor and glared at them. “Shut the fuck up and roll me a joint. It’s been a long hour.”

Chris grinned, reaching for the stash on the coffee table. “Now that I can do.”

tag-

@courta13 @idkwhatthisis2009 @sturniolostories13 @baileysturnz

@tbfaptbfae @ch0lliess @2muchofaslvt @rockstarchr1s @simply-a-simper @mattscore @watercolorskyy @urfungi @slut4christopherr @mattsturnii @christmastreecake @izzylovesmatt @larnieboox88 @realuvrrr @namelesssav @matts-girlfriend @mamamadssss @loser41ifee