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samaraxmorgan · 3 months ago

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Your Roommate Sukuna

“That Time We Went To The County Fair”

Modern no curse AU, Sukuna X Reader

Synopsis: This housing crisis sure is no joke huh? Rent is just too expensive to live alone, so you put out a listing for a roommate and ended up living with none other than the tattooed bad boy Ryomen Sukuna! This is part of a series of drabbles and oneshots showing glimpses into you and Sukuna’s living situation!!

Contains: pure fluff, frenemies dynamic, emetophobics be cautious (no one actually gets sick it’s just mentioned), Sukuna is trying so hard to be nice

Word Count: 2.89k

Series Masterlist - My Full Masterlist

Sukuna always tries to give off the vibe that he’s too big and bad for anything. Everything is beneath him, everyone is merely a nuisance, and this Ferris wheel in particular is just too bland and boring for his tastes.

He acts like you held a gun to his head and forced him to come with you to the fair, but you really didn’t; if anything he forced you to let him tag along. You just happened to see a flyer in the mailbox and brought up that you were planning to go and he could tag along if he wanted to, the last thing you expected was for him to immediately start lacing up his boots and stuff his wallet into the pocket of his ripped black jeans, asking you a nonchalant “You ready?” not even a minute after you suggested it.

And now here you are, a decent train ride later and you’re at the top of the Ferris wheel sitting across from each other, looking down at the colorful lights of food stalls and amusement rides below you. You wanted to go on the Ferris wheel first since the sun is beginning to set, the sky turning shades of pink and orange as a gentle breeze chills the evening air.

Sukuna’s gruff and uninterested voice breaks the peaceful silence, “You could’ve looked out the window at home for free.”

You’re scooted to the edge of your little cart, elbows perched on the rusty metal railing and your cheek rested on your palm, looking longingly between the colorful lights of the roller coasters down below and the changing hues of the sky, “The view’s not this pretty at home.”

All he can respond with is a hum, his arms stretched out across the railing behind him as he leans his back against the hard metal wall of the gently swinging cart. From the corner of your eye you’d swear you could see him watching you, but when you shift your gaze towards him his head has already turned to look down towards the carnival beneath you.

He outstretches his arm and points toward one of the rides, colorful lights spotted around the outside of its spaceship style design begin to transform into streams of light as the ride starts to spin and twirl around, “We’re doing that one next, too fuckin’ boring just sitting around.”

You turn your body towards him and give him a sarcastic grin, “What if all the spinning makes me sick?”

He scoffs, gently kicking your leg across from him with his combat boot, “If you throw up I’m pretending that I don’t know you.”

“Boo.” You roll your eyes at him and look back towards the fair as the Ferris wheel begins to spin. You reach your arm out of the cart and point at a ride in the distance, a large boat shaped contraption swinging back and forth before turning completely upside down, the passengers' screams echoing through the open air, “Would you go on that one?”

He gives you a sly grin, “Only if you go on it too, you didn't drag me along just to watch, did you?”

“I didn’t drag you here, you might as well have begged to come with me.”

“Oh fuckin’ please,” He leans towards you, propping his elbows on his knees and looking up at you, “You gave me those ‘lil puppy dog eyes when you showed me the flyer.” He mimics a dramatic pout, making you groan and press your sneaker onto his chest to push him away.

“You’re unbearable.”

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

The metal steps creak below both of your feet as you and Sukuna step into the spaceship ride; the walls are round and covered in separate metal panels for each person to stand with their back against, and in the middle of the ride there’s a booth for the operator with large buttons and levers. You and Sukuna find two open panels on the wall and stand in front of them as the doors to the ride slide shut, leaving you both and everyone else blocked off from the festivities going on outside.

The operator looks bored as they flip a switch above their head, the lights dying off before you hear the clicking sound of buttons being pushed, rainbow lights streaming along the ceiling in swirling patterns above your head. Blaring loud techno music starts to blast from massive speakers in the operator’s booth as you feel your balance start to waver. Within seconds everyone’s backs are slammed into the wall, fits of giggles and startled screams surrounding you in the ride.

You turn your head to look at Sukuna and he’s already grinning at you, he tries to yell something to you but the music is far too loud to hear him. You open your mouth to yell “What?!” but instead a yelp is ripped from your chest as your entire body slides up the wall. He points up towards you and laughs, you try to kick him in the shoulder but the pressure of the ride spinning is keeping you effectively plastered to the wall, hardly able to move at all.

Sukuna, on the other hand, is somehow barely affected by it; deciding that it’s time to show off as he plants his palms onto the wall behind him and bends his knees to be completely off the ground. He stumbles back slightly on his first attempt to push himself up, but by the second try he’s crouching completely upright on the wall.

“What the hell are you doing?!” You scream out to him, but he can hardly hear you over the loud music and playful screams of everyone on the ride.

He’s got a massive grin plastered on his face as he stands to his full height so casually, as if the pressure of gravity just doesn’t affect him, taking a broad step over your stiff body to stand with his large combat boots on either side of your hips. He takes a knee over you, wrapping one of his hands around the back of your neck and the other behind the small of your back, leaning forward and yelling into your ear.

“You’re coming with me.”

It feels like you’re going to fly back into the wall as he pulls you into his arms, his strong grip keeping your body flush against his as you try to raise your arms enough to wrap them around his neck.

“You’re insane! Put me down!”

You can feel his breathy laughter on the crook of your neck as he lifts you up to stand with him on the wall, his hands never loosening their protective grip on you even as your feet plant themselves on the wall. He’s holding you so close, you’re not sure if your head is spinning more from him or the carnival ride. Your arms are wrapped tightly around his neck, your head pressed flush against his broad chest and tilted up towards the flickering lights adorning the ceiling.

“Not so bad, see?” You can hear the grin in his voice, his lips brushing against your ear while he speaks to you, “Not gonna drop you, calm down.”

Can he feel how fast my heart is beating?

The pressure in your head starts to feel relieved, but at the cost of your balance as you stumble forward. Sukuna completely wraps his arm around your waist and lifts you off your feet, taking long strides backwards off the wall and back onto the floor as the ride slows to a gradual stop.

“Hey!” The operator is screaming over the music as the large doors slide back open, “You two! Off!”

Sukuna chuckles into your ear as he drops you onto your feet, “Oops.”

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

“I can’t take you anywhere-“

“Ugh, how was I supposed to know that guy would be such a pussy?”

“Sukuna!” You slap his arm, “You’re gonna get us kicked out!”

He just huffs and rolls his eyes, his arms crossed over his chest as you both walk side by side through the fair. You knew he was nothing but trouble, and you feel a little stupid for assuming he wouldn’t drag you down into his bullshit with him, but you’re stuck with him now; at least until your lease is up. Maybe you shouldn’t invite him out with you anywhere after this, but when you glance up at his stupid grumpy expression you get butterflies.

With a face like that it’s no wonder he gets away with anything.

He’s so… annoying. That’s what you like to tell yourself; it’s annoying that you can’t stay mad at him, that he gives you that smirk that makes your heart race, that he held you like that on the carnival ride. He drives you insane in all the best and worst ways, either waking you up in the middle of the night by being loud and obnoxious coming home drunk from a concert, or making you go crazy wishing he was home with you while he was out with his friends.

“Are you even fuckin’ listening?” He snaps you out of your trance.

“No.” You huff, breaking your gaze from his. Did you doze off while staring at him?

“Brat,” He wraps his fingers around your wrist and pulls you towards a pop up stall, the stall walls lined with balloons and stuffed animals, “You beat me in this and I’ll… behave for the next one.”

You scoff at him, “No you won’t.”

A small smile creeps onto the corners of his lips, “… Yeah you’re right.” You roll your eyes and turn away from him, but he sidesteps in front of you, leaning down to match your height, “Tell you what, let’s make a bet.”

“That’s a terrible idea.”

He smirks, “Winner picks out a tattoo for the loser.”

You laugh right in his face, “Absolutely fucking not!”

“What?” He gives you an exaggerated pout, “You don’t trust me?”

You cross your arms and glare up at him, “You would make me get some kind of gang tattoo.” You say sarcastically.

He mutters under his breath, “Shit, am I that predictable?”

“Sukuna!” You kick him in the shin.

“Fine, fine. Piercing.”

You look over at the plastic machine guns mounted onto the edge of the stall, noting a toppled over “out of order” sign next to the red gun. Maybe it’s a bad idea to humor him, but you know damn well he’d pick that red gun over the baby pink ones surrounding it, you might be able to play dirty if he hasn’t noticed the sign that fell over.

A grin paints your lips as you look back at him, “You’re on.”

His head cocks to the side slightly, “Really?” He looks genuinely surprised, but definitely not disappointed, “Shit, that was easy.”

He strides over to the stall, planting himself right in front of the red gun, exactly where you want him. You suppress your smile as much as you can as you walk up beside him, wrapping your finger around the trigger of the pink gun next to him. He’s looking down at you so cocky as the game attendant counts down for you both to start.

“Three!”

“You know…” He leans down towards you to speak into your ear.

“Two!”

“I know a guy who does eyelid piercings.” He states smugly.

“One!”

Like clockwork, you start peppering through the balloons while his gun immediately jams.

His brows furrow in frustration and you look towards him, giving him a mischievous smirk, “You’ll have to give me his number.”

As the game comes to a fast end, you learn that Sukuna is such a sore loser, grumbling about how that was “fucking rigged” and that you’re “a dirty little cheater,” but you couldn’t wipe the smile off your face if you tried. You doubt he’ll hold up his end of the bet, and you’re not really that concerned about it to be honest, that frustrated look on his face is more than enough of a prize.

“Yeah yeah,” You giggle, “I’m just the worst huh? I’m gonna run to the bathroom, how about you win me something while I’m gone?”

He shoots a glare down at you, “No promises.”

“Oh yeah, because you fucking suck at these games, right?” Your bottom lip is caught between your teeth in a futile attempt to keep a straight face, you just can’t help but smile, it’s a nice change of pace for you to be the one getting on his nerves for once.

“Such a fuckin’ brat.”

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Something about Sukuna is suspicious when you meet him back at the games. His grin has returned once again and he’s holding one of his hands behind his back. His eyes light up when they catch yours, taking long strides to meet with you.

He leans down to be eye level with you, keeping his hand tucked away behind him, “Close your eyes.”

“You didn’t…” You look up to his eyes but his gaze flickers away from you.

“Shut up. Close your eyes and give me your hand.”

You let out a sigh, shutting your eyes and holding your hand out in front of you. Your brows furrow in confusion as something cold and squishy lands in your palm, “What the fuck…?”

“You know how you said you wanted a pet?”

You open your eyes and are greeted with… a goldfish. A little tied off plastic baggie dripping condensation onto your skin as the tiny fish swims in panicked circles, “Sukuna!”

“What?” He stands up straight, stuffing his hands into his pockets, “I thought you’d like it.”

“When I said I wanted a pet I meant, like, a dog!”

He nonchalantly shrugs his shoulders, “Well you won’t let me get a cane corso, so-“

“Because they’re a hundred and fifty pounds.” You mutter over him.

“Say hello to Brat Junior.”

“Oh you’ve got to be kidding me.”

He’s definitely not kidding if the grin on his face is saying anything, he takes a step forward and pokes the bag, watching the fish squirm inside, “He’s got your attitude.”

“Oh my god,” You rub your temple with your free hand, “We need to go get a fish tank.”

“We’ve got bowls at the house.”

“No! We are not mistreating this fish, asshole.”

“Don’t call him fish, he has a name.” He declares sarcastically, crossing his arms over his chest.

You mutter curses under your breath, “Brat Junior needs a tank. A real tank, with a filter.” You pull Sukuna by the sleeve of his shirt, dragging him along behind you, “There’s a pet store around the corner, let’s go before they close. And you’re paying.”

“Hey, why am I paying for this shit? It’s your pet.”

“It was your stupid idea!”

You both leave the loud chaos of the fair, walking along the quiet sidewalks to the pet store. The skies have gone dark now, the moon making itself at home above you as you cradle your beloved Brat Junior in both of your palms, trying to keep the water in his bag from swaying too much.

You and Sukuna bicker the whole walk there until you make it to the sliding glass doors of the pet store, quiet music playing through the speakers as you walk across the shiny white floors to the fish section. You both split up so he can pick up a tank while you sort through food, but shortly after he walked away he’s already making his way back to you.

“We’re gonna have to flush Brat Junior.” He says plainly.

You defensively clutch the fish close to your chest, “Absolutely not!”

He rests his elbow on one of the shelves lining the wall, leaning his side against it, “Then you’re paying for half of the fish tank.”

Your brows furrow in confusion, “You broke now?”

“Lady at the counter said he’ll get,” He straightens his fingers on each hand, placing them together like a prayer before parting them about a foot away from each other, “This big.”

“Are you fucking serious?”

“I wish I was joking, the tank is $600.”

You blow a raspberry, slumping your back against the wall and looking down at the goldfish in your palms. You’re silent for a moment, but then you let out a reluctant sigh, “I’ll pay half, but you’re carrying it on the train ride home.”

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

You hold your apartment door open, watching Sukuna maneuver the giant 40 gallon fish tank through the small doorway, “Got it?”

He grunts in annoyance, “A little help would be nice.”

“Ooh, about that,” You hold the little plastic baggie up in your palm, “My hands are full with the baby.”

He blows his bangs out of his eyes, carrying the fish tank into the tiny apartment, “Should’ve fuckin’ flushed him.”

You let out a mock gasp, cupping the goldfish in both of your hands and holding it up to your face, cooing at it, “Did you hear that? Your father doesn’t love you.”

Sukuna placed the tank onto a long empty table against the wall before flopping on his back onto the couch. His eyes flicker between you and the fish for a moment, a faint smile creeping onto his lips.

“I knew you’d like that little fucker.”

A/N: Fun fact did u know that those fair fish grow to be 12 inches long? Unfortunately this fic is based on true events of when my boyfriend and I won TWO OF THEM at the fair and had to spend $600 on a fish tank for them (rip my wallet). Dividers by @adornedwithlight

Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!!

#he’s such a pain in the ass I love him sm #also pls lmk if there’s any tagging issues!! I’ve never had a taglist this long before #nav ryomen sukuna #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #ryomen Sukuna #Sukuna #sukuna fluff #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #my writing #roommate Sukuna au

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brunchable · 2 months ago

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FREAKY FRIDAY | Body Swapped Steve Rogers x f!reader.

Pairings: Johnny Storm Possessed Steve Rogers x f!reader Themes: Body Swap. Sexual Themes. Funny? Horndog Johnny, for an unknown reason, body-swapped with Steve. Summary: You woke up with Steve suddenly out of character and having an overflowing amount of rizz. A/N: It's comedy central in my blog this week. . . I can't help but insert one particular meme lmao

taggies: @mrsevans90

Like you did every morning, you woke up to the gentle warmth of Steve next to you, but there was something different about the way he was looking at you today. His eyes twinkled mischievously as he leaned in close, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

"Morning, gorgeous," he murmured, his voice smoother than usual. You blinked in surprise. Sure, Steve was affectionate, but this was... new.

You smiled back, albeit a little wary.

"Good morning?" Before you could say anything more, he captured your lips in a kiss that was how to describe it-more confident, more playful than his usual gentle morning kisses. You pulled back slightly, looking at him with raised eyebrows.

“Wow, someone's in a good mood today,” you said, trying to shake off the weird vibe.

Steve just grinned and gave you a little wink. "What can I say? I'm just appreciating my girl."

You squirmed under his intense gaze. You couldn't help but notice how his hand casually trailed down your arm, lingering a little longer than usual. You weren't sure if you should feel flattered or... flustered.

“Should we stay in bed a little while? You know…” he asked, his voice dropping suggestively as he wiggled his brows.

But this time, he didn’t stop there. As he leaned in closer, he slowly stuck out his tongue and wiggled it playfully, making his intentions blatantly clear.

Your face immediately turned bright red.

“Steve!” you exclaimed, quickly pressing your hand to his lips and pushed him away to stop him before he got any closer, utterly flustered by the suggestive gesture.

He chuckled against your hand, his eyes twinkling with mischief. For a second, you felt him wiggle his tongue against your palm, teasing you further before you jerked your hand back with a mix of shock and embarrassment.

“Unbelievable!” you muttered, feeling your face heat up even more.

He gave you a devilish grin, clearly enjoying how flustered you were.

“What? Just offering some ideas, sweetheart,” he teased, giving you a playful wink.

“No, Sam’s going to be here soon for your morning run, so go prepare.”

The excitement drained from his face, “I do?”

“Yes!”

Johnny—or rather, the man you thought was Steve—let out a low chuckle, clearly unfazed by your refusal. This wasn't like Steve at all. Steve was always respectful, sweet, and… well, a gentleman. But today? He seemed like a different man entirely.

“Guess I forgot,” he said with a smirk, sitting up slowly and stretching. His tone was casual, but the grin he gave you was anything but innocent.

As he shifted in bed, he leaned back casually and gave a quick, deliberate glance downwards before gesturing toward the noticeable outline in his sweatpants. The fabric clung snugly, revealing the distinct, firm shape of his dick pressing against the material, enough to leave little to the imagination.

“But if you change your mind about staying in bed…” he said, his voice low and teasing, “you know where to find me.”

You blinked in disbelief, your cheeks burning as he got out of bed and strolled toward the bathroom. He threw one last playful wink at you before disappearing behind the door, leaving you there in a state of complete confusion.

"What the hell is going on with him today?" you muttered to yourself.

You climbed out of bed and started to get ready for the day, you tried to shake off the feeling that something was… off. Maybe Steve was just in a playful mood? Maybe he was testing out some new approach to your relationship, though you couldn't help but wonder where it had come from all of a sudden.

But, soon enough, you heard the front door open and Sam's voice echoed through the apartment. "Yo, Rogers! Are you ready for our run?"

You peeked out from the bedroom just in time to see "Steve" step out of the bathroom, giving you another grin before heading out to meet Sam. He greeted him casually, as if everything was perfectly normal.

Sam looked over at you with a quick nod. “Hey, Y/N. Morning.”

“Morning,” you replied, though your voice sounded more distant than usual. You couldn’t quite bring yourself to look directly at Sam, worried your face might give away just how weird the morning had been.

As they left for their run, you were left alone, still wondering why Steve was acting so differently. But then, you shook your head. Maybe it was all in your head. Maybe he was just feeling particularly confident today. Either way, it was Steve, your Steve, and you trusted him.

Right?

× × × ×

You made breakfast while ‘Steve’ is out on a run. You tried to shake off your confusion by busying yourself with making coffee. It wasn't helping. The memory of Steve's unusually bold behaviour lingered in your mind.

And just when you were about to pour yourself a cup, you felt a sudden smack on your ass. You yelped in surprise, nearly spilling the coffee. Whipping around, you saw Steve standing there with a smug grin on his face, looking very proud of himself.

"Steve!" you gasped, your heart racing for all the wrong reasons. "What are you—"

"What?" he said with an innocent shrug, though his mischievous grin betrayed him. "Just saying hello."

You narrowed your eyes at him. “By smacking me on my ass?”

“Can't help it, you look too cute when you're all focused," he teased, stepping closer.

His hands slid around your waist, and before you could protest, he lifted you effortlessly onto the counter. Your breath hitched. This was not the Steve Rogers you knew. But as much as his behaviour was throwing you off, you couldn't deny the butterflies his actions stirred in your stomach.

"Steve, what's gotten into you?" you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

Instead of answering, Steve leaned in with a mischievous glint in his eyes, peppering kisses all over your face—your forehead, your cheeks, and your nose—until you were giggling uncontrollably.

“Steve, stop it!” you laughed, trying to push him away, but he was relentless, his arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

Your laughter was cut short as his lips trailed lower, brushing down to the side of your neck. The playful atmosphere shifted instantly, your breath hitching in your throat. His kisses became more deliberate, slow and teasing, sending sparks of heat through your skin.

“Steve…” you whispered, but your words melted into a quiet gasp as his lips found that sensitive spot just below your ear. He lingered there, pressing soft, lingering kisses, making your pulse race.

His warm breath fanned over your skin, and without warning, his lips latched onto your neck, sucking gently but with enough pressure that you knew he was leaving a mark. A deep, guttural hum escaped him as he continued, his grip on your waist tightening as he pulled your body against him.

The sensation of his lips and the gentle tugging of his teeth made your head spin, and you instinctively tilted your head, giving him better access.

“Steve,” you gasped, your fingers tangling in his hair, your body arching into his.

“Can’t help it,” he muttered against your skin between kisses. “You drive me crazy.”

His voice was low and rough, sending a fresh wave of heat coursing through you. He sucked on your neck again, his tongue flicking over the spot before he pulled back slightly to admire his work.

"You’re gonna have to explain this one," he murmured with a grin, his lips ghosting over your ear, still hovering close enough to keep you breathless.

× × × ×

For the next hour, you tried to regain some composure, but it was hard with the heat of Steve’s kisses still tingling on your neck. Every time you moved, you could feel the slight sting of the mark he’d left behind, a not-so-gentle reminder of how wild this morning had been.

After making the bed and tidying up, you decided to head to the living room to relax for a bit, hoping that "Steve" had calmed down from whatever flirty streak had taken over him. You still couldn’t shake the feeling that something was a little… off. He's been too quiet.

You stepped into the living room, you stopped dead in your tracks, your jaw practically hitting the floor.

There, casually sprawled on the couch, was Steve in his birthday suit. Stark naked. The only thing covering him was your guitar, strategically placed across his lap. His posture was relaxed, one arm draped along the back of the couch, while his free hand strummed lazily at the strings.

He looked up as if nothing was out of the ordinary, a casual, half-lidded grin spreading across his face.

“Hey,” he said, as if this was the most normal thing in the world.

You blinked. Once. Twice.

“Steve… what the hell are you doing?” you finally stammered, struggling to form coherent words as your brain scrambled to process what you were seeing.

He shrugged nonchalantly, still strumming the guitar.

“Just thought I’d serenade my girl.” His eyes sparkled with mischief as he tilted his head. “You know, I think I’m getting better at this guitar thing.”

Your cheeks flamed red as your gaze flickered between his shamelessly exposed body and the guitar that, frankly, wasn’t doing the best job at covering much.

“Put some clothes on!” you squeaked, your face burning from the sight in front of you. “What if someone walks in? Sam might—"

“Sam’s gone,” he cut in smoothly, winking. “It’s just you and me, babe.” He tilted his head, clearly amused by your reaction. “Besides, you weren’t complaining this morning.”

You could feel the heat rising to your face again, this time in full force. "That doesn't mean you get to... to do this!"

He just smirked, lazily leaning back on the couch, the guitar still resting against him. “Come on, don’t act like you don’t like it.”

“Steve, for the love of everything, PLEASE, just put some clothes on,” you muttered, rubbing your temples as if that would somehow erase the image from your brain.

Instead of listening, he suddenly stood up, the guitar still barely covering anything, and with the confidence of someone performing at a sold-out show, he started singing. Loudly.

“And you're kissin' on my neck, I'm like, “Oh”, Got your hands up on my chest, I'm like, “Oh”” he belted out dramatically, grinning ear to ear as he took a step toward you, his voice echoing through the room.

You panicked.

"Oh my God, Steve! No!" you squealed, immediately clamping your hands over your ears, turning away from him as fast as possible

“Kiss me 'til there's nothin' left, Oh my god, oh my god!” he sang even louder, walking toward you like some rock star, his guitar still precariously covering him as he inched closer.

You darted behind the coffee table, creating a barrier between the two of you, your face blazing red.

“Lalalalalalalala!” You covered your ears tighter, trying to block out the sight and sound of your naked boyfriend serenading you. “Lalalalalalala! I can't hear you.”

But he wasn't stopping. If anything, your reaction only encouraged him further.

“Why are you running, baby?”

He grinned wickedly, circling around the coffee table like a predator playing with his prey. "You could really tear me apart, but- I love you like that, Everything you do just turns me on, I love you like that, Body on my mind like all night long.”

You squeaked and moved in the opposite direction, keeping the table between you, but Steve—guitar still precariously positioned—was unstoppable, matching your every move. It was ridiculous, like a slow-motion chase scene in a rom-com, but you couldn’t help but laugh through your embarrassment.

"Steve! Seriously, stop!" you cried out, ducking and weaving as he chased you around the table, his singing never faltering.

"I love you like that!" he belted, reaching out with one hand as if trying to grab you. You yelped, dodging him by moving to the other side.

"Lalalalalalalala!" you cried, your hands clamped tighter over your ears as you rushed toward the door, desperate to escape.

His laughter echoed in the living room, the sound of his voice-and that ridiculous guitar performance following you as you fled to the safety of the kitchen. Behind you, you could hear him laughing even harder.

"Alright, alright, I'll stop!" he called after you, his voice still tinged with amusement.

You leaned against the kitchen counter, taking a deep breath to steady yourself, your face still burning red. Today was officially out of control.

And this wasn't the Steve Rogers you signed up for.

× × × ×

As the day finally wound down, you were still trying to recover from the whirlwind of events that had unfolded earlier. After a long, flirty, and borderline chaotic day with “Steve,” you were just glad it was almost bedtime.

You had managed to avoid another musical performance from him after the whole guitar incident, but the playful energy hadn’t completely faded. As you stood in front of the bathroom mirror, brushing your teeth, you could feel his eyes on you from across the room, watching your every move.

“Don’t even think about it,” you mumbled through a mouthful of toothpaste, meeting his gaze in the reflection of the mirror.

He was lounging on the bed, shirtless now, with that same mischievous grin you’d been seeing all day.

“What?” he asked innocently, though the glint in his eyes said otherwise.

You rolled your eyes and spit out the toothpaste, rinsing your mouth. “You know exactly what.”

He laughed, the sound low and smooth as he got up and sauntered over to you, his bare feet padding quietly against the hardwood floor. Before you could react, he was behind you, his arms sliding around your waist as he rested his chin on your shoulder.

“I was just admiring how cute you look in your pajamas,” he murmured, his breath warm against your neck.

You sighed, trying to ignore the way your body reacted to the heat of his skin against yours.

“Steve, it’s been a long day,” you said, your voice weary but laced with affection. “Can we just... go to bed? Without any more surprises?”

He pressed a soft kiss to your neck, lingering for just a second before pulling away with a grin.

“Alright, alright,” he relented, raising his hands in surrender. “I’ll behave.”

You gave him a playful glare, narrowing your eyes as you turned to face him. “You said that earlier today, and then I walked into the living room and—”

“Okay, this time I’ll behave,” he interrupted with a laugh, holding his hands up defensively. “Promise.”

Shaking your head, you couldn’t help but smile. He may have been driving you absolutely crazy today, but this version of Steve—or Johnny, whoever he really was—was still undeniably charming in his own chaotic way.

Once you finished up in the bathroom, you both crawled into bed, the covers cool against your skin. Steve—or, well, Johnny—rolled onto his side, propping his head up with one hand as he gazed at you with that playful smirk.

“You sure you don’t want a little bedtime serenade?” he teased, his voice low and suggestive.

You groaned and pulled the blanket up over your head, burying yourself beneath the covers. “No!” you said, your voice muffled. “We’re done with that for today!”

He laughed again, the sound warm and contagious as he settled down beside you. The teasing faded, replaced by a softer, more familiar warmth as his arm slipped around your waist, pulling you close to him.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he murmured, his voice gentle now as he pressed a soft kiss to your temple.

You peeked out from under the covers, smiling despite yourself. “Goodnight, Steve.”

As you closed your eyes and drifted off to sleep, you couldn’t help but wonder how long this flirty version of Steve would last—and whether or not you were ready for whatever tomorrow would bring.

× × × ×

The next morning, you stirred awake, the early light filtering through the curtains, and you felt the familiar warmth of strong arms slipping around your waist. Instinctively, you leaned into the embrace at first—until the events of the previous day rushed back to you. Your eyes snapped open, and before you could stop yourself, you jumped slightly, pulling away from the arms that had suddenly felt different, your heart pounding.

“Whoa, hey—what’s wrong?” Steve's voice came out soft, laced with confusion and concern. You turned over to face him, and instantly, you could tell something had changed. His eyes weren’t twinkling mischievously, there was no sly grin or playful wink. Instead, his brow was furrowed in concern, his hands hovering over you like he wasn’t sure if he should touch you again.

“Steve?” you whispered, your voice hesitant, scanning his face. He looked… like himself again. That quiet, gentle warmth was back, the one that had been missing yesterday.

“Yeah, it’s me,” he said, still looking concerned. “Are you okay? You jumped like I startled you.” He reached out to brush a strand of hair from your face, his touch soft and careful, nothing like the bold, confident gestures from the day before.

You blinked at him, your mind racing. The contrast between today and yesterday was stark. Yesterday, he had been all cocky smirks and teasing touches, constantly riling you up. But now? Now, Steve seemed completely aware of what had happened, but wasn’t letting on.

“I—uh, I’m fine,” you stammered, still trying to process it all. “You just… caught me off guard.”

Steve frowned, clearly still confused by your reaction. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to,” he said softly, his thumb brushing gently over your arm as he studied you. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

You nodded, but your heart was still racing. "Yeah… you’re just… different from yesterday."

His brow furrowed further, but now there was something else behind his eyes. He looked like he was holding something back. “Different? What do you mean?” he asked, though you could sense he already knew.

You hesitated, biting your lip. “Yesterday, you were just… more… flirty,” you said carefully, watching his reaction. “Like, a lot more. You were… singing to me. Naked. With my guitar.”

Steve’s eyes widened in shock, his face turning red almost instantly, but there was something else—recognition. “What? I—I did that?” He didn’t seem shocked by the words, more by the fact that you were telling him.

You nodded, your own face heating up at the memory. “Yeah. And you were… really, really bold. Smacking my butt, picking me up, kissing me all over…"

Steve's gaze drifted down, and before you could even say another word, his fingers gently brushed against your neck, right where Johnny had left that bold mark. His touch was tender at first, but the moment his thumb traced over the small bruise, his entire expression shifted.

"That motherfucker! I'm going to kill him!”

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elexuscal · 3 months ago

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So just over a year ago, I made a resolution to myself to get better at Fitness, since I was getting older and i knew if i didn't, the Consequences would begin to manifest. One problem? Historically i have always hated working out.

i knew there were two main reasons why: 1. lingering trauma from the usual Fat/Neurodivergent Kid Mistreated In PE Class Experience 2. oh my god it's so so so boring i would rather do anything more entertaining.

So. I'm not an expert, and i'm definitely not a professional fitness instructor, BUT i have genuinely come to not just tolerate but actually enjoy exercise this past year. So if these are any problems you personally have contended with, these strategies May Help.

One: Remove Barriers

a lot of flavours of neurodivergence struggle with switching between tasks and executive function generally, especially towards something you don't find fun. So first you gotta identify any barriers keeping you from exercising, and removing or mitigating them.

For me, a hurdle i recognised is that if I could not easily access the equipment, I was unlikely to use it. honestly if i couldn't see it i would probably forget it was there. So my first order of business was making a Work Out Zone. I unrolled my yoga mat and gave it a near-permanent place in my room. my weights came out of the closet and placed on a low shelf where i could easily access them, as did my resistance band. now they were always Right there.

I also realised something I detested was the general feeling of sweaty clothes, and in particular, having to change out of them. So Gross. so i started scheduling my work outs for in the the morning after breakfast or right before my nightly showers, aka: when I am changing in and out of my PJs. I'll do my routine (mostly) naked and not have to contend with the extra steps and laundry that sweaty clothes bring.

two: secondary entertainment

like i said: i found exercise very boring. and while i've gotten better over the past year, and can find it meditative, i still prefer having something else to catch my attention.

i used to like to put on video essays. but then i realised i was so often pausing my work outs because the particular video ended, or the pace got slow, or the topic turned to something dark and depressing out of nowhere and killed the vibe, so then i had to stop to find something else--

No. You need something that will keep you in the zone, and won't knock you out of it. I didn't used to listen to music much, but this year i took advantage of a Spotify subscription my sister gifted me (😔) and started just putting on upbeat rock, hip-hop, and pop mixes. it doesn't need to be my favouirte music ever it just needs to Keep Going.

i do find the loud, rhythmic music is really good for keeping my pace up, but if music doesn't do it for you, you might find audiobooks or autoplaying favourite old tv shows/sitcoms might scratch that itch.

Three: Find Other Motivators

Or, "if you can't make your own motivation, store bought is fine"

Gameification is really good here. You might be someone who'll benefit from a pedometer or step-counter app. I have a friend who swears by the Switch Ring-Fit, and I've also heard of folks who use games like Just Dance, Zombies, Run! and Beat Saber to rely on the sweet sweet endorphins generated by hitting a high score.

(BUT: do beware the dark side of gameification, which is the risk of demotivation if you don't hit your goals. For example, after doing GREAT on exceeding my step goal for a month, I got hit with COVID. For about a week and a half I was barely moving beyond the kitchen and back. My step counts plummeted, there was no way to edit the record out, and that made it harder to get back into the groove. Be mindful relying too much on gameification!)

Even outside of literal games, there are ways to scratch this itch. I used secondary objectives as a way to encourage me to keep up with my daily walks. Walking my roommate's dog when he was working long days is an obvious one, but we don't always have a furry friend at our disposal. Then I would rely on mini-challenges like, "pick up 10 cool rocks to paint", "fill this bag with wood for the fireplace", "take 10 pretty pictures", or "get to the corner store to get more milk".

And of course, consider team sports! Many folks I've talked to feel having set training/play times with a team that relies on them crucial to keep them on track!

Four: Don't Measure Success By Weight Loss

I know. I know. Easier said than done. It does not help that like 80% of workout resources online are going to mention this. but above all else, you must resist the beast. (and while not as dicey, measuring success by visible muscle gain can fall into a similar trap).

The biggest benefits to exercise are invisible. it improves cardiovascular health, brain function, tissue regeneration, immune system function, lung capacity, energy levels, literally our whole body. no matter what external changes your body does or doesn't go through, you're still going to be benefitting from exercise, and you do not want to get demotivated chasing unrealistic/irrelevant goals.

Instead, to track your progress, focus on questions like these:

How is exercise impacting my mood? Do I feel less stressed or anxious?

Am I sleeping better?

Is my balance improving?

Is my stamina increasing?

Am I becoming more flexible?

Can I lift/carry heavier weights?

Is my breath control improving?

Over the last year, I've seen marked improvements in all of these. My joints don't hurt as much; it's easier for me to to get up and move; I don't get winded as easily; I generally feel more relaxed and cheerful. Those are all amazing outcomes, and I hope that everyone on their own fitness journey can find the same joy there as I have.

#fitness #exercise #fatphobia #there are definitely other tips i could give #but these i think are the ones that helped *me* the most

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futureplayboibunnie · 1 year ago

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Heartless Pt. 4

Mafia Boss! Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader

You and Miguel are married to each other…and it wasn’t because of love.

thank you for all the love so far! also this is my personal touch for this fic, but while i was writing it i was listening to the entire Honeymoon album by lana del rey (especially the instrumentals) i’d recommend listenting to it. it fits this vibe so perfectly, literally trying to encapsulate that feeling with this series.

“I'm in the middle of something.” You piped up nonchalantly, like being half naked and dripping with water in front of men was a completely normal occurrence. “Well, now that you're here, it would be nice if you were helpful by getting my bags.” You said with a wry, and slightly pissed-off smile. He just observed you with darkened eyes and a grinding jaw, if he pressed harder you would practically hear the bones crunch together. The look you gave him was an urging one. “So what will it be? Gaping at me blankly or being mildly helpful?” Your tone was aggravating, grating the inside of his head- your glib comments were making him realize that you were actually capable of disrespecting him.

Miguel didn't know what to make of you in his room like this, acting as if it were your own. It wasn't. But you were married now. Technically, what was his was yours. He didn't like it. He sneered, his features merely angry slashes contorting up his face. “I'm not your sniffer dog.” He barked, storming out of the room and slamming the door so hard that it closed and sprung back open. You rolled your eyes at his outburst, but you had to admit, it was a little unnerving to see him lose his temper that quickly. Miguel huffed, grabbed your stupid bag, and slammed the door open like a bull in a china shop. “Here, and get out of the room. It's mine.”

“What? I was in here first.” You protested in vain, you were the one who was dragged away on a honeymoon, you were the one who was being ordered around like a stuck-up child. The least he could do was let you sleep wherever you wanted to sleep.

“Well, I own the fucking building.” Miguel bit back deadpan, his voice flat and so sadistically arrogant, like money was all that made him. It was an insult to the whole idea of humanity to rely on something as belittling as money.

Miguel's head was storming, dissecting every single premonition about you and how you could so easily flip on him, he would tolerate your disrespect for now, you hadn't properly settled in yet, but if you made it a habit, he'd make you regret it. It should be funny, Miguel was so proper and particular about his women. There were things he liked and didn't like on women. He hated flats. He only liked certain colors. He hated jeans. He liked skirts and dresses for...easy access. He liked his women easy, and you were definitely not easy. You were making it difficult for him on purpose now. But for some reason, defiance suited you more than nonchalant complacency. It was more entertaining than the graceful, polite facade you shirked up.

“Can I put my clothes on now?” You objected, snapping him out of his pondering, looking like an idiot just glaring at you like this.

Part of him wanted to say ‘Well. No. I'd prefer you with nothing on actually.' His steely resolve almost broke at the realization, but he shook his head and pushed it down. Yes, you were attractive but your personality was a mystery for him, he was battling his own personal mysteries, and he didn't have time to psychoanalyze anyone elses.

You slept...okay. Miguel didn't disturb you or actually force you out of his room which was odd. He probably had enough of this senseless bickering, you'd probably just go back to ignoring each other, maybe at least try to independently enjoy this stupid 'honeymoon.’

The sun woke you up sweetly, and the soft gentle breeze billowed through the open curtains, offering the hum of salt air whispering through the room. You wanted to avoid Miguel as long as you could, so you decided to just go in the garden, sunbathe, read a book, do something meaningless to just forget about the fact you're married to one of the most dangerous men you've ever met.

You practically jumped out of bed, went to the bathroom, splashed your face with water, brushed your hair, and put it up in a claw clip with the speed of an Olympic runner. But what was all the hurrying for when you were completely stumped on what to wear? You tossed out your clothes and put them all away, you ultimately decided to wear a bikini and on top a cute mid-thigh sundress, you weren't going anywhere too fancy, the back garden wasn't exactly Paris fashion week. When you glanced outside the terrace, you were happy to see that the garden was adorned with carefully cut shrubs, willowing trees, orchids, and chrysanthemums. Considering Miguel rarely leaves for leisure, it was a surprise that is was being kept up - it must have meant a lot to him then. You grabbed your things and opened the door quietly, wanting to sneak out as soundlessly as possible in order not to attract attention from Miguel, or worse, be the reason to wake him up.

You padded away barefoot, feeling the warmth of the sun outside surround you as it seeped through every glass window.

Even though Miguel told you to get used to his lifestyle, you still hadn't settled in, something just didn't sit quite right with you. You were fortunate enough to come from a wealthy family but the way Miguel wasn't bothered by the sheer amount of blood money he acquired is...distasteful. Thinking of which, you peeked your head around the corner in order to see if Miguel was awake but instead you found something else. He wasn't in bed at all. He was asleep, his hands were crossed on the kitchen counter and his head was flat on his upper arm, fast asleep with his laptop open in front of him Jesus. He still hadn't changed. What was it with men not wanting to take care of themselves?

You shifted towards him, inching closer and closer to his sleeping form. Wow. He almost looked peaceful, not full of that mindless aggression he was known for. His copper hair was tousled and disheveled, his golden skin was creased but reflective against the light, and his breathing was slow and heavy- it was odd seeing him this relaxed when he wasn't even in a relaxing position in the first place. You raised an eyebrow at his disposition. Maybe Miguel wanted to outsmart and outwit sleep, he obviously had to succumb to its charms. You worked your way around the kitchen island, unable to stop looking at him like this, you grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl and just stood and stared at him like a creep. You really should leave before he wakes up, but you didn't want him sending his capos combing the entire complex for you, so you just left him a note.

In the garden.

Miguel heard a gunshot.

It reverberated in his ears.

More gunshots. Thousands of rounds smoking away.

His eyes widened, and the sleep left his bones. His head spun around, shifting erratically, and he almost fell off the fucking chair. A tight anxiety squeezed the color out of his face, the heavy breaths wouldn't bring any solance to any of the fragments falling at his palms. His chest filled with panic, and the first thing that came into his head to find was you. He eyed your note and rushed down as fast as he could. He needed to get you out of here.

But then all he heard was silence when he stepped out onto the patio. A muffling silence. Then the sharp hum of wildlife, the birds chirping, the distant sounds of the beach, the flattening waves. The crickets trilled and the leaves rustled, the nostalgia of the oddly familiar sounds crept up on him like a disillusioning shadow. An itch he couldn't scratch. A never-ending nightmare he couldn't end. A man with everything he could ever want, but no clear consciousness, no clear mind. He was blind and tortured.

You were lying on a sunbed, and Miguel only caught onto your back and a little bit of your side profile. His eyes were dead set on you, contemplating you...and there you are, emerging in his eyeline. Those flashes of skin become a painting, a jigsaw puzzle coming together. He was slow in his movements, finally viewing you as you were. You were lying there, glowing in a small bikini, taking in the sun like a nymph. Your body was so….

Miguel frowned.

The apple you bit into was stuck to your teeth, you stopped everything you were doing, pausing for your eyes to follow from Miguel's thighs to his face. This was the moment where he saw you as if you were like a deer in headlights, like a naive girl who tries to hide behind back-talk and retaliation. The wide-eyed look you gave him, pupils glazing over, revealing no thought behind your eyes. But he saw you. He saw you being affected by his presence. He felt himself loom over you. Your eyebrows creased in pensive irritation, Miguel's face was hard and steely in something he couldn't quite define. You finished biting into the apple, chewing and just giving him a nonchalant look. Reverting back like second instinct.

“Did you rush out here to gawk at me again? Or to blame me for your lack of sleep?” You breathed out judgementally, but at that moment, the way your eyes connected sent a strange chill down your spine, even when you were lying out in the sun. Miguel felt it too. The scorching, pulsating beat behind your gaze was a never-ending maze, an attempt to figure out who was going to break first. Neither of you was willing to back down. It was sizzling…as wellias unsettling.

Miguel didn't know how to answer your question. He couldn't exactly tell you that his nightmares of the most traumatic thing that's ever happened to him tricked his head into believing he was hearing the remnants of it in real time. Part of him wanted to say yes to both. His sleep schedule was a nightmare in itself and the woman who is the bane of his existence has to be looking so...delicious when he was absolutely not in the mood. He wanted you with nothing on, maybe force you to look at him the exact same way he just found you...with his hand between your thighs.

Miguel shook the annoying, sleep-induced thought away. He was acting like every other man, their mind wandering to hell when they see any attractive woman- he won't fall for it. He won't. But you weren’t any other woman were you?

Miguel watched you bite into the apple and instinctively, he just grabbed it from your mouth, almost pulling at it. He watched your face flit into a multitude of different emotions at what he did. You opened your mouth to say something but you just huffed instead, glaring a hole into his face. Miguel took a bite out of it and tilted his head to contemplate you. He knew he shocked you.

You were really fuckable.

Extremely fuckable.

It was an objective statement.

But he still won't play into it. Nah. You wouldn’t be able to fix him. He was too damaged for you. He wouldn’t mind the primitive pleasure of fucking you. He just won’t do it. You weren’t as nice as before. You’d grown a smart mouth.

“Hm.” That was all he could say to you. “I want my room back.” His fingers reached out and tilted your chin up a little, he felt you flinch just a millisecond and that expression on your face was unamused, dead set looking up at him. It felt like you were holding your breath. He took another bite out of the apple. "Happy sunbathing carino." He yelled behind him as he walked away.

taglist (giggles) : @deputy-videogamer @aisyakirmann @idolautism @residentialcryptid @bunnyrose01 @hqllcheers @minalovesyoubabes @amelialysm @moonvoidpng @ahano @hanberkkk @lavenderslemonade @mynameiswilliamblake @gejo333 @leahnicole1219 @iite-cool @zaunsin @kkchgee @yujyujj @hazelnutbitch @hiraya1802 @leo-lvr @sh4nn @watyousayin @siidmm @ciwywt-com @death-moth-art @ihateuguys @enmuhusben @berry-potchy @s0lm1n @amelialysm @migueloharastruelove @lauraolar14 @tashames @soymiguelsesposa @noblesavagex @miguelsslutprincess @lilipads (sometimes i hate this fkn app it literally doensn’t let me tag other ppl why)

#spiderman 2099 #miguel ohara #miguel o’hara angst #miguel o’hara smut #atsv miguel #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara fluff #miguel o’hara x reader #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara

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babybratzmaraj · 3 days ago

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When we getting yo spin on Aaron Pierre frenn 👀👀👀

the time has come. YOU SHALL BE BLESSED

Any Time, Any Place

Aaron Pierre as Terry Richmond

You as Yourself

Summary: You just had to fuck around and find out on this one particular night, the same night you and Terry go out!

Warnings: Possessiveness up the ass, breeding kink if you squint, rough sex, size kink, established relationship, im missing some but my coochie is rawring.

A/N: Now listen, ik you asked this like 2-3 months ago, but i told you it was coming! megan! um i thank ms big bertha for helping me finish this, i owe her one😏

This man, this man is something else. You and Terry went to his former military friend’s homecoming party! The vibes were great and everyone was nice to you! even got a ‘I see you nephew’ from one of the older ones.

But something about his glare, his hands feeling on you in public and more sultry in private, his kisses on your cheek leaving you flustered, too flustered to even finish the conversation with some of his friends. But you managed, tonight was a good night! The vibes were good, the music was amazing, even got new shit to add to your playlist! Your hair was dyed, fried, and laid to the side, the curls bouncing with every move you took, and the wind having the right amount of umph to blow it correctly, felt like a Disney princess. Too much of a princess, it wasn’t long till you two were pulled up behind a family dollar with your legs in the air, his eyes looking like what boiling water would feel like.

The whole night he was giving you glares, was to warn you, the hands that traveled your body, were to warn them, the private kisses were to remind you, but you didn’t pick up on nothing, poor you, you didn’t know! You were just enjoying people being friendly.

“I’m sorry!” you managed to cry aloud, his hands at the perfect spot to hold you in place, the faint but still strong scent of Gin tainted his lip, his strokes matching the mighty smell.

“I bet you are ma, but I can’t have you being friendly to these niggas.” he said ever so sweetly, slowing his strokes to match his tone, the feeling of feeling him twitch inside you drove you mad, the kisses he gave you trailing onto your neck once you couldn’t keep contact.

“I wasn’t trying to be niceee,” you tried to plead your case with tears of pleasure stinging your eyes, threatening to fall but it’ll mix well with the sweat that ruined your hair, it wasn't the only reason though. “Then what were you?”

You attempted to answer his question, jarring your lips to fix up a sentence, but you were too slow.

Terry slammed into you continually, each and every slam and thrust he gave you found a new place to dig out. His eyebrows furrowed as he lingered for your answer, knowing good and Christ juice you couldn’t answer. this nigga was evil.

He slammed into you once more resulting in you screaming, staying still in an attempt to not cum inside you, but you just looked too exquisite at this angle, the soft white light emitting from above shined across your face, your eyebrows scrunched, and your mouth permanently ajar.

“You can scream but can't answer? I said,” he began to repeat, slowly rocking his hips into you. “I don't know!”

“At least you're honest, that shit ain't cutting it.” He told you, maintaining his pace exactly where and how it was. His tone is mean yet delicate, his eyes still burning into your skin leaving different patches of hotness until your whole body warms up again.

“This my pussy right?” You nodded, “And Nobody will ever get it right?” you nodded your head obediently, “And nobody’s gonna take what's mine?” his voice nearly going primal, his pace quickening at the idea of someone attempting to take what was his.

“Nooooo,” You slurred on your words, drunk off his loving, high off this moment, rolling your eyes back to see your own little sky with stars with a biggg shooting star as your orgasm washed through you, your body jerking around violently as Terry held you steady, giving you two more pumps before sliding out, leaning back to watch you melt further into the backseat.

When you came to, you looked down to see Terry slowly stroking himself, “Knees.” He commanded, your knees buckled as you could hardly move but you obeyed, perking your ass up in the air, teasing him a little.

His hefty hand landed on your cheek a few times, each time leaving a pleasurable sting behind. You heard him shuffle behind you, lining himself up with your entrance, swiping your pussy with his dick making you clench over nothing.

“This your dick right? Show me.” Terry insisted, pushing only the tip driving you madly in love.

You slid down on him with ease, a guttural moan fleeing the two mouths as the feeling of being together again, feeling the chemistry oozing off of each other, it was something that couldn’t be replaced.

You grabbed a hold of the driver’s seat as you threw your ass back onto him, arching your back some more, the clapping intensified times ten.

“Fuckk,” Terry cursed lazily as he fucked you back, giving each cheek a little smacked turning that spot more redder, caressing the right one as the left one was left to die, that asshole!

You felt Terry's presence grow closer as his chest rested on your upper back. His left hand snaked around to keep your face to his as he attacked your lips, the taste of gin deepening your taste buds as you savor the flavor of him, moaning into his mouth.

His left hand released your face, kissing your back before pinning your face down onto the seat, his right hand placed in the small of your back, bending your back in a way you didn’t think it could bend.

He moaned deeply, his languidish strokes reminding you of one thing: This pussy was his and to never let another nigga think he has a chance. Truly, you learned from this experience but will try again when you recover from this in 7-10 business years.

You felt a familiar sensation forming in the pit of your stomach, Terry sensed this and evilly went deep, hitting all new spots as he damn near bottomed out in you. “I want you to cum on this dick and I want you to cum now.” but little did he know you were waiting on his approval.

You erupted into a screaming, shaking mess, the sounds of squelching and slapping of skin drowning out the music.

Terry gave you three sharp thrusts before nutting in you, painting your walls like you were a canvas, and it created a beautiful scene. Terry collapsed on top of you, breathing heavily into your ear feeling accomplished that he was able to go through with his ‘Punishment’ beating the last score of 3 to 7.

“I love you,” Terry said innocently, kissing you gently, whimpering as he slowly pulled out of you. “But Don’t do that shit again.”

You flopped onto the backseat as you stuck up a thumbs up, your arm flopping back down as you heard him laugh.

Fin ♥️

Youve got Mail!📥 @megamindsecretlair @theebaddesttt @thecapodomme @henneseyhoe @planetblaque @kindofaintrovert @blackerthings @harmshake

#bratz got a ask!#told by bratz #aaron pierre #terry richmond #terry richmond x reader #x black reader #x plus size reader #Rebel ridge smut

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ynbabe · 7 months ago

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Come Through ୨୧ George Russell x Rockstar! Reader

Is rockstar the right word? idk I just know bro is crazy bts, the white boy with Excel persona is fooling NO ONE Georgie boy. Also, Reader has vibes of the Weekend song, hence the fic name.

Lando thinks it's all a joke. He hadn't been crying, screaming and manifesting for the past three years only for his celebrity crush to be dating someone else, another driver that too.

"WHO-" He yells as he storms into Max's room, where most of the drivers had collected, they hadn't decided but they all just gravitated towards the blonde with sweet blue eyes who listened to the vent and gave the best hugs, "AFTER ALL WE WENT THROUGH- WHO IS DATING Y/N L/N?"

All eyes were on him, Max lying on his bed, Charles, Carlos and Daniel with him. Lance, Esteban and Pierre were on the sofa, playing FIFA on Max's PS5, George and Alex were sharing the smaller two-seater, Zhou and Yuki were passing a tennis ball to each other and Logan and Oscar were sleeping, cuddling close on the floor surrounded by pillows, but were now woken up by Landos yelling.

"Lando stop screaming," Charles yelled back.

"No," he simply replied and made his way to the bed where he jumped on top of Carlos and Daniel, the older of whom groaned and grumbled something about his back, but Lando didn't care, he pushed his phone in Max's face, blurring his face in Carlos's neck.

xoxof1

xoxof1 Y/n l/n an infamous British rockstar most famous for her multiple dating scandals and most recently an arrest is rumoured to date a F1 driver.

username MOTHER WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE 😭😭😭

username girl... knowing her it's like Lewis or someone

username fr like hasn't she 'dated' a dozen older guys not to mention her record with women username girl why are you hating like a man, she's iconic and we all know it

username just lost my wife to a vroom-vroom man no one talk to me

Max began laughing, looking up from the post to the distraught Lando currently getting his hair played with by Carlos.

"Mate, I don't think you're her type," he threw the phone back to the whining boy.

"Yeah? And how would you know? I look exactly like Edward!" He pointed to the bassist of the band you were a part of.

"Kelly loves her music..." he muttered, looking away much to the younger man's amusement.

"HAH!" He shrieked, "SHE'S NOT YOUR GIRLFRIEND ANYMORE!!" He laughed to which Carlos pushed his head down, eliciting an 'oomph'.

"I've been told many times," Max muttered to himself and turned to Lando to hear the rest of his rant, though loud and fast, the boy was the best source of entertainment they had.

"Max, look at her band, she's so coooool," he groaned, passing the phone to him again.

Cupidd

Cupidd THANK YOU LA!! We'll be back with 'young, numb and brunette' after this short break!!

y/nl/n My old man said I had to be in Shangai this weekend 🫡 but trust- I will be back to piss y'all off with Eddie asap

edwrdnotcllen MY WIFE HAS LEFT ME FOR A TWINK HELP y/nl/n shut up Eddie your the twinkiest twink I know username I love that they have had multiple partners in the past yet still always call each other husband and wife username I pity her boyfriend 😭 imagine having to compete with a man who looks like Edward

username SHES GOING TO A RACE????

username nooooo pls my parents

username girl they have never dated, both y/n and Edward have had multiple partners and relationships with men and women in the past. Leave them alone, they're adults username FOUND Y/N'S BFS ALT GUYS!!!

"She's coming to China?" Max asked no one in particular but Lando took it as an invitation to freak out.

"Bro please, please, please let me win this one, I'll owe you forever, bro please," Lando tried his puppy eyes on Max but Max jumped out of bed calling his girlfriend, walking out the room trying his best to convince the older woman to not attend the race.

"I have so much work to do," Lando gasped and followed Max out the room.

The race was one to remember, with Max winning but George a close second and Lando barely a tenth away on the third.

He hadn't been able to find the girl anywhere but at least he got points for the team. He went to the McLaren team party and forgot about the other celebration taking place.

xoxof1

xoxof1 The unexpected couple have been revealed in a series of leaked pictures of the private f1 party after the driver George Russell had a podium finish for his Shangai race.

username Mr.Russell I was unaware of your rizz, forgive me sir.

username WHITE MAN DOES IT IN ONE DAY 😭😭😭

landonorris When i catch you george when I catch you

username LANDO??? username he's one of ussssss username bbg you get me 😮‍💨 in ways no man ever has

George woke up with the worst headache he ever had in his life, he was sure he'd never get over this hangover but then he saw y/n next to him, hair tussled wearing the white shirt he was wearing last night.

"Y/n, darling, wake up," he pressed a kiss on her shoulder.

"mmhm," the woman groaned, turning to the blonde next to her and kissing him, the taste of vodka still fresh in her mouth.

She melted into his touch as he deepened the kiss, " Mornin' G," she whispered to him, voice hoarse from the night before.

He smiled in return, placing one last kiss on the corner of her lips. She searched around for her phone, finding it fallen amongst their haphazardly discarded clothes and opened Instagram to thousands of notifications.

She was used to it by now, it was quite fun.

y/nl/n

y/nl/n If I speak... @/georgerussell

edwrdnotcllen @/yn/ln you are so welcome for not squealing as soon as I knew

y/nl/n girl you asked me if you could kiss him after??? edwrdnotcllen And I still am?? username WHAT-

username I just know Lando is fuming rn

username y'all need a third? a dog? a maid?

username it should be me instead of him!!!

username god I see what you've done for others 😭

"Darling, did you post-" George had just begun but his room was rudely broken into, running in he saw a hyper papaya-coloured blur followed by a very hungover Max Verstappen.

Lando gasped looking at the woman next to George, screeching at an inhuman pitch, "HOW'D THIS PIECE OF VANILLA FRAPPUCCINO WOO HER??!?!?" He pointed at Y/n, making the woman laugh.

George offended, scoffed at the boy, "Well if you must know, I met her at Nando's party-" he was cut off once again, this time by the Dutch man.

"That makes sense actually," he said and immediately grabbed Lando by the collar and dragged him out, "Sorry guys!" he yelled after himself.

"I like your friends," Y/n said smirking making the taller man blush and push the woman slightly, before collapsing back into bed, making a silent promise of never trying to out-drink the woman again.

#f1 #formula 1 #max verstappen #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #george russell x reader #george russell #george russell imagine #george russell x you #lando norris x reader #lando norris #max verstappen x reader #george russel x reader

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lupinqs · 29 days ago

Text

CHAPTER TEN ━━ Love Was The Law, Religion Was Taught

☆ ━ pairing: hopkins!paige x oc (dani callan)

☆ ━ word count: 5.2K

☆ ━ warnings: sexual content (oral—p receiving, car sex), religious guilt, internalized homophobia

☆ ━ links: my masterlist, take me to church masterlist

☆ ━ author’s note: lowkey realized that i never brought up dani’s mom lol so you figure out what’s happened in this chapter

THINGS HAVE… changed, since that night. Something’s different between them. Not bad, just… different. They’re not dating—at least, that’s not something they’ve actually talked about. But for the past month, they’ve spent most—if not all—of their free time together, sneaking into each other’s houses, constantly dodging Dani’s dad’s suspicion. They kiss a lot, and sometimes they do other things, though Dani’s always a little hesitant when it goes beyond kissing. Paige never pushes her, but it’s usually Paige taking the lead, her hands finding places on Dani that make her nervous and excited all at once.

Dani goes to all of Paige’s games, cheering her on from the stands, sometimes on the sidelines with her camera, taking pictures of the basketball team—but mostly Paige, if she’s honest—for the yearbook. Dani knows that what they’re doing, how they’re acting, is how couples act. But neither of them have actually brought it up. The thought of saying it out loud—of making it real—scares Dani more than she wants to admit. She doesn’t know if she’s ready for that, for all the weight that comes with actually dating a girl—even if it’s Paige. Even though, deep down, that’s exactly what they are. Dani feels guilty about it, too, wondering if all her hesitation makes Paige feel like she doesn’t care for her enough, or that she’s ashamed to be with her. But it’s not that.. it’s just difficult. Dani just needs time.

Tonight—Christmas Eve Eve, as Paige has called it—the pair are parked in an empty lot on the outskirts of town, sipping their half-finished milkshakes and talking about nothing in particular. The windows of Paige’s car are fogging up from the cold outside, but inside, it’s warm and comfortable. The only light within the car are the ridiculous rainbow car Christmas lights Paige bought and strung around the vehicle, telling Dani they “gave good vibes” after Dani made fun of her for it.

Paige finishes her shake first, always the chugger between them, and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand before glancing over at Dani. “Can I have a sip of yours?”

Dani rolls her eyes a little before leaning the cup towards Paige, the straw just in reach. Paige takes a sip, nodding in approval, her lips humming against the straw. She pulls back, murmuring, “Tastes good.”

“Mhm,” Dani replies, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips. She pulls the shake back towards herself, taking another sip as Paige’s eyes stay on her.

Paige smirks a little, her eyes glinting mischievously as she takes the cup from Dani’s hand, slipping it into one of the cup holders in the console between them. And then she leans forward, kissing Dani without warning, her tongue sliding into Dani’s mouth with the taste of milkshake still on their lips. It’s quick, teasing, before Paige pulls back and murmurs, “You taste like Oreo.”

Dani rolls her eyes, but the way her chest tightens at Paige’s words betrays her attempt at nonchalance. Without thinking too hard about it, she grabs Paige’s face in both hands, pulling her in for another kiss, unsatisfied with the shortness of the first one. Her fingers thread into Paige’s hair, the taste of cold milkshake lingering on both of their tongues.

The kiss deepens, and Dani feels that familiar pull in her chest, that mixture of wanting more but being too afraid to ask for it. Paige’s hands find her waist, fingers lightly squeezing, and Dani shivers—not from the cold, but from the sensation of Paige’s touch, the way it makes her feel safe and exposed all at once.

When Dani slows the kiss down, her tongue running over Paige’s bottom lip before taking it in between her teeth lightly, that seems to do it for the blonde. Paige’s fingers tighten in the fabric or Dani’s jacket, breaking the kiss, just barely, muttering against Dani’s lips, “Backseat.”

The word sends a little thrill through Dani, and she nods eagerly, already feeling heat rise in her cheeks. Paige is the first to move, and Dani expects her to step out and open the door to get to the backseat, but instead, Paige tries to climb between the two front seats. Dani watches with a smirk as Paige’s foot gets stuck awkwardly between the headrests. There’s a moment where Paige pauses, trying to wriggle free, and then—she falls face-first into the backseat.

Dani stares at Paige for a long second, before a bout of laughter bursts out of her, loud and uncontrollable. It echoes in the small space of the car, filling the air. She climbs over the center console much more gracefully than Paige did, sliding into the backseat with ease, still giggling as she watches Paige pull herself up from her awkward position.

Paige looks up, rolling her eyes but grinning, her face flushed with a mix of embarrassment and amusement. She grabs Dani’s hips, pulling her into her lap as the brunette continues to laugh at the look on Paige’s face. “Shut up,” the point guard mumbles, but there’s no bite in it. Her hand reaches out, gripping the back of Dani’s neck, pulling her down for another kiss.

Dani’s laughter dies on her lips as soon as they connect, her hands gripping Paige’s shoulders for balance. The kiss is deeper now, more urgent, like Paige is trying to make Dani forget about her little tumble. It might be working. Dani shifts in Paige’s lap, feeling the heat between them, and her hands slide from Paige’s shoulders down to her chest, steadying herself.

Paige’s hands roam, one trailing from Dani’s hip down to her ass, squeezing gently, making Dani gasp against Paige’s lips. It’s always like this with Paige—gentle, but insistent, just enough to make Dani’s pulse race. She tries to stay in the moment, to focus on the way Paige’s hands feel on her body, the way her lips move against hers, but that nagging thought creeps in like it always does: God wouldn’t want this. You’re disgusting. Your dad would be ashamed.

It’s a spiral that Dani’s far too familiar with. The guilt sinks in deep, twisting her stomach in knots, and for a second, she hesitates. But then she remembers—it’s Paige. She’s not doing this with just anyone. She’s doing this with Paige, the person she trusts more than anyone else in the world. The girl she’s loved for as long as she can remember.

With Paige, it’s different. It’s always been different. And somehow, when she thinks of it that way, when she remembers who she’s with, the thoughts get quieter. The guilt doesn’t disappear, but it fades, just enough for her to kiss Paige again and let herself get lost in it.

She shifts closer, her body pressing against Paige’s, and nothing else seems to matter. Not God, not her dad, not the expectations hanging over her head. It’s just her and Paige, tangled together in the backseat, sharing breath and warmth in the cold December night.

Paige’s lips move from Dani’s mouth to her neck, her breath warm against Dani’s skin, and Dani lets out a soft sigh, tilting her head to give Paige more room. Paige sucks a little, though Dani can tell she’s careful to not leave a mark, her tongue ghosting over Dani’s skin before soothing it with a kiss. And then Dani feels Paige’s hand slip from its spot on her ass, shifting over to her waist. Paige’s fingers toy with the waistband of Dani’s leggings, hesitant but lingering, testing the waters like she always does—never pushing too far.

Dani’s heart is pounding, and she knows she could let it happen. She wants to let it happen. But before she can even think about it too much, her hand instinctively moves to Paige’s, gently pushing it away. She doesn’t break the kiss, doesn’t pull back or say a word. Just a soft, unspoken no. Paige understands immediately. She always does. Without any complaint or hesitation, she pulls her hand back, sliding it up to cup Dani’s cheek instead, her thumb brushing softly along her skin.

It’s moments like these that make Dani’s chest ache. Not in the painful way she’s used to, but in a way that reminds her how much Paige cares. She’s always so patient, so understanding, never making Dani feel guilty for not being ready, for not knowing how to handle all the shit inside her head.

The thing is, Dani would love for Paige to slip her hand beneath her sweatpants, to feel Paige’s fingers on her, making her forget everything else for a while. But even thinking about it makes her feel a little sick—not because she doesn’t want it, but because she feels like she’s failing Paige. Paige has been so giving, always the one to take care of Dani, making sure Dani feels good. They’ve been like this for a while now, kissing, touching, but it’s mostly been Paige doing the giving, and Dani feels like she’s taking too much. The one time Dani did something for Paige—about a week ago, when she worked up the nerve to finger her—she had been terrified the whole time, not because she didn’t want to, but because it felt so much more real when she was the one doing it.

Admitting she’s gay—actually gay—still scares her. It’s one thing to have Paige do things to her, but being the one to touch Paige, to make her feel good, feels like crossing a line Dani’s been afraid to step over. If she’s the one giving, there’s no more pretending. She’s known she’s liked girls for a while now, but it still feels heavy, like a weight pressing down on her chest that she’s not ready to carry.

But Paige deserves more. Paige deserves to feel good too. And Dani’s tired of being scared. Tonight, she’s determined to push past it, to be there for Paige the way Paige has been there for her.

Without saying a word, Dani pulls away from their kiss, her lips trailing down to Paige’s neck. She feels Paige shiver beneath her, the sound of her breathing hitching just slightly. Dani’s hands slide up under Paige’s sweatshirt, fingers brushing the bare skin beneath her sports bra. She’s nervous, her stomach twisting, but the soft gasp that escapes Paige’s lips makes her push forward.

When Dani sucks at a particular spot on Paige’s neck, she hears Paige’s breath quicken even more, and Paige’s hand tightens in Dani’s hair. That little reaction is enough to give Dani the courage she needs to keep going, to let herself forget the fear for a second and just focus on Paige, on making her feel as good as Paige has made her feel so many times before.

Dani pulls away for a moment, hands at the hem of Paige’s sweatshirt. She yanks it up, pulling the sweatshirt over Paige’s head, leaving her in just her sports bra. Paige’s skin is warm beneath her touch, and Dani can’t help but linger on the way Paige’s muscles tense slightly under her fingers as Dani slides her hands down, keeping them on her abs. When Paige’s hands slip under Dani’s jacket, tracing along her bare back, it sends a shiver through Dani’s entire body.

She leans back in, her lips finding Paige’s again, hungrier this time, like she’s trying to pour all the things she can’t say into the kiss. Paige responds just as eagerly, pulling Dani closer, their bodies pressed together in the confined space of the backseat. Dani’s hands move lower, sliding down Paige’s abs, her fingertips brushing against the waistband of Paige’s sweatpants.

Paige pauses a little, murmuring against her lips, “Dani, you don’t have to—”

Dani pulls back just enough to meet Paige’s eyes, her heart racing but her voice firm. “I want to.” She pauses, her fingers hesitating just above the waistband. “Do you want me to?”

For a moment, Paige just stares at her, and Dani feels her nerves spike. She’s not sure what’s going through Paige’s mind, but then all of a sudden, Paige is nodding, pulling Dani closer and kissing her with a kind of intensity that makes Dani’s head spin. That’s all the confirmation Dani needs.

She carefully begins to slide Paige’s sweatpants down, her hands trembling slightly, but Paige lifts her hips to help, making it easier. The sweatpants come off, and Dani feels the heat rising between them, her breath catching as her lips move from Paige’s, trailing down her neck, across her collarbone, and lower. She presses her lips to the hem of Paige’s sports bra, then continues down her toned abs, each kiss slower, more deliberate.

By the time Dani’s kneeling in front of Paige, the weight of what she’s about to do feels heavier than ever. She glances up at Paige, and for a second, the vulnerability between them is palpable. Dani can see the flicker of nerves in Paige’s eyes, mirroring her own. But then Dani leans in, pressing a soft kiss to Paige’s thigh, and then another, inching closer.

Paige’s breath hitches, her hands tightening in Dani’s hair. Dani’s heart pounds in her chest, but she’s not chickening out of this. She gently hooks her fingers around the waistband of Paige’s underwear, pulling it to the side. With a deep breath, she places a gentle kiss there, on Paige’s clit, her lips lingering for a second before her tongue pokes out, tasting Paige.

Paige lets out a little noise in between a groan and a whimper as Dani’s tongue slides along her slit, slowly moving up and down before circling around her clit. She takes her time, getting used to it, letting Paige get used to it. She feels Paige’s grip tighten in her hair a little, and Dani flicks her tongue harder against her, a bit firmer.

Paige tastes good. Sweet, even. Dani doesn’t know why she thought it might be different—maybe because she’s spent so long believing this was wrong, that their bodies pressed together like this was a sin, something dirty. But there’s nothing wrong about how Paige feels beneath her. There’s nothing sinful in the way Paige’s body responds to her, the soft sounds that escape her lips. Dani presses her mouth even closer, tasting more of Paige, trying to let herself enjoy it.

Every shift of Paige’s hips, every tug on Dani’s hair sends a thrill through the brunette, and Dani doesn’t want to stop. She has no intentions to, either. Even if it’s wrong, even if God is looking down right now, disappointed and angry, Dani finds herself caring less and less. Paige feels good, and that’s all Dani can focus on in this moment.

Her mouth moves faster, tongue swirling and flicking. Paige’s breathing is ragged, her voice breathy as she murmurs Dani’s name again and then once more, like a prayer. A prayer that’s just for Dani, not for anyone else, not for God.

And maybe that’s what Dani’s starting to believe—that Paige might love her more than God ever could. Because in this moment, Paige is giving her everything. Every little gasp, every whispered word of encouragement, the way Paige swipes Dani’s hair away from her face—it’s all for her.

And Dani thinks that might be enough.

Dani feels it, then. Paige’s body tenses beneath her, her hips jerking up slightly with every movement of Dani’s mouth. Dani can tell Paige is close. So, she sucks harder, her tongue flicking against Paige’s clit, before sliding down into her entrance. Dani’s tongue pumps inside Paige for a moment before pulling back out, coating Paige’s clit with her own arousal and Dani’s saliva.

“Fuck, Dani—” Paige’s grip tightens in Dani’s hair, hard enough to sting, but Dani doesn’t stop. She glances up to see Paige throwing her head back, eyes squeezed shut, sweat glistening on her flushed skin. Paige’s lips are parted, her chest heaving, and it’s like Dani can feel the tension building in her, ready to snap.

Paige’s hips jerk up again, her body instinctively seeking more as Dani’s mouth keeps moving, her tongue and lips working together, sucking, flicking, doing everything she can to keep Paige on that edge.

“Shit—like that—” Paige’s voice comes out in a rush, shaky and breathless. “I’m gonna come, Dan—”

And then she does.

Paige’s body arches a little off the seat, her thighs trembling around Dani’s head, her hands gripping tighter, holding Dani there as she lets go. Dani doesn’t stop, her mouth still working, feeling every pulse, every shudder as Paige gushes against her. Paige groans, and it’s louder than before, more raw. Dani can’t help but smile against her skin, knowing she did this. She made Paige feel this good.

Paige’s hips finally settle back against the seat, her body going slack as the last tremors of her orgasm fade. Dani pulls back just enough to rest her head against Paige’s thigh, her lips brushing lightly over the damp skin. She stays there, catching her breath, watching as Paige’s chest rises and falls, her eyes still closed, her face soft and blissed out.

Dani feels Paige run her fingers through her hair, and when Dani looks up, the blonde is smiling down at her. “C’mere,” Paige mumbles, voice laced with warmth, guiding Dani up until she’s straddling her again. Their bodies press together as Paige leans in, capturing Dani’s lips in a kiss that’s slower, deeper—less about urgency now, and more about the feeling. It’s gentle and lingering, as if neither of them wants to break it.

Dani feels herself melt into the kiss, her body relaxing against Paige’s as their lips move together in perfect rhythm. Paige’s hand slips from Dani’s hair to cradle her jaw, holding her close, grounding her.

When they pull apart, Dani rests her forehead against Paige’s, their noses brushing as their breaths mingle in the close space. Paige’s eyes flutter open, and when Dani looks into them, she’s caught off guard by what she sees there. It’s a softness, a kind of tenderness that makes Dani’s heart skip, her mind racing to catch up to the emotions coursing through her. Paige is staring at her like she’s the only thing in the world.

Paige’s smile is small but sincere as she reaches up, fingers brushing a stray lock of hair away from Dani’s face, tucking it behind her ear with a kind of care that makes Dani’s chest tighten. She doesn’t rush; she lets her fingertips linger there for a moment, as if savoring the touch, before she finally speaks.

“I love you,” Paige says simply, her voice steady. The easiness of the words strikes Dani like a bolt of lightning, but instead of freezing, she feels something in her release, something that had been tied up for too long. The words aren’t new, but they haven’t been said since the night that everything shifted—since that heated confession in the summer before Dani’s dad found out and ripped their world apart.

Dani’s heart swells as she leans in, her lips brushing against Paige’s in the lightest of touches, a grin pulling at her mouth as she whispers back, “I love you, too.” The words tumble out easily, like they’ve been waiting there, just beneath the surface, needing to be said. And for the first time in a long while, Dani doesn’t think about God, or the crushing guilt, or her dad’s disapproving glare. None of that exists here.

What exists is Paige—her warmth, her love, the way her hands settle on Dani’s hips like they belong there. Dani presses her forehead harder against Paige’s, her fingers clutching at the fabric of Paige’s sports bra as she lets herself fully relax. She breathes in the closeness, the safety, the undeniable feeling that what they have is stronger than what they’ve been through. Paige’s thumb strokes the side of Dani’s face, their noses brushing together in soft affection, and Dani feels tears sting the back of her eyes—not from sadness, but from the overwhelming realization that, here, with Paige, she doesn’t have to fight anymore.

For the first time in a long time, Dani feels free. Free to love, free to be loved in return. Finally.

THE FEELING doesn’t last.

It’s Christmas Eve, and Dani stands in front of her mirror, adjusting the diamond-encrusted cross necklace that gleams against her chest. The red dress she’s wearing is velvet, and she’s paired it with black tights and black heels that give her a little extra height. Her hair falls around her face in carefully styled curls, each strand falling just right after she spent the better part of an hour fixing it. She should feel good. It’s Christmas, a time meant for happiness and celebration, and evening mass is awaiting her. She even looks the part—perfectly put together, dressed like the straight Catholic girl she’s supposed to be. But as she stares at her reflection, her fingers lingering on the cross, she feels like a fraud.

The necklace is supposed to mean something. It’s supposed to be a reminder of faith, of devotion. But all Dani can think about is how much she’s hiding, how far she’s strayed from the person her dad thinks she is—or wants her to be. From the person God wants her to be. Her eyes linger on the cross, a symbol of the God she’s supposed to love and trust, and all she feels is guilt. Not because she doesn’t believe, but because she’s constantly questioning. Questioning her wants, her feelings for Paige, and whether those feelings really makes her the sinner she’s been told she is.

With a heavy sigh, she pulls her gaze away from the mirror and heads downstairs. Her dad waits in the living room, dressed in one of his nicest suits, his expression as stern and composed as always. When he sees her, though, his features soften slightly, and he offers a rare smile, nodding in approval at her appearance.

“You look pretty. Like your mom,” he says, the words simple but weighted.

Dani feels her heart clench at the mention of her mother. It’s been years since she passed, but the wound never really healed, not for her or her dad. Her mom had been the one to keep everything together, the glue that held their family in place. Without her, things have felt wrong for the better part of a decade. Her dad’s harder now, more distant, and Dani knows it’s because the person who softened him is gone. And it hurts—hurts in a way that she doesn’t like to think about too often.

She forces a small smile, nodding. “Thanks, Dad.”

The moment hangs in the air for a second too long, both of them knowing it’s better not to dwell on the past. Her dad clears his throat, the softness in his expression quickly vanishing, replaced by his usual stoicism. They gather their things—Dani grabs her coat and gloves—and head out the front door, stepping into the crisp evening air. The snow is fresh from last night’s fall, blanketing the yard in a thick, undisturbed layer.

As they approach the car, Dani’s gaze is pulled next door, where she sees Paige, Drew, and Bob Bueckers in their front yard, building a snowman. Dani’s breath catches, her pulse quickening at the sight of Paige, bundled up in a thick coat and scarf, her cheeks flushed pink from the cold. Paige’s laugh rings out, bright and clear, as she tosses a handful of snow at Drew, who giggles and ducks away. It’s a simple, happy scene—one Dani wishes she could be part of.

Paige seems to sense Dani’s eyes on her, turning to make eye contact almost immediately. Dani feels a rush of warmth and guilt all at once, the connection between them so strong it’s impossible to ignore. But she forces herself to look away quickly, her heart pounding in her chest. She can’t let her dad see her staring—can’t let him sense anything that might raise suspicion. Instead, she glances over at him, watching as he observes the Bueckers family with a look of disdain.

Dani’s heart aches as she watches the way her dad’s mouth tightens, his jaw clenching ever so slightly. He’s never been too fond of their neighbors, though he originally tolerated them. But once he found out what exactly was going on between his daughter and Paige, all he is is disgusted of the family, disapproval scathing him. And seeing them now, carefree and happy, only seems to fuel his bitterness.

Bob catches sight of them and, ever the friendly neighbor, grins and waves. “Merry Christmas!” he calls out cheerfully, his breath forming little clouds in the cold air.

Dani’s dad barely acknowledges him, giving a curt nod that’s more rude than polite. Dani feels a familiar sense of unease stir inside her. She wants to say something—wants to return the greeting, to be polite, to go over and even join the family, leaving her father behind—but she doesn’t. She knows better than to risk upsetting her dad. So instead, she glances at Paige, offering a small, apologetic smile. Paige catches it, her eyes softening in understanding, but there’s a sadness there too. Dani looks away quickly, the guilt creeping up her spine again.

Without another word, Dani climbs into the car, the biting cold following her as she shuts the door behind her. Her dad settles into the driver’s seat, starting the engine with a low rumble. They pull out of the driveway, heading toward the church in silence. Dani presses her forehead against the cool window, watching the snow-covered world blur past, trying to ignore the tightening in her chest.

Her mind drifts back to Paige, like it always does. And Dani wonders, not for the first time, what her mom would say if she were still alive. Would she have been like her dad—stern, unyielding, sending her off to conversion camp the second she found out? Or would she have been different? Softer. Would she have tried to understand? Would she have let Dani be herself? After all, she always adored Paige.

The thoughts swirl around in her head, heavy and unanswerable. Dani’s hand drifts to the cross necklace around her neck again, fingers tightening around the cool metal. It feels like a chain, pulling her in two different directions—toward the person she’s supposed to be and the person she is. And no matter how hard she tries, she can’t make those two versions of herself fit together.

As they approach the church, the glow of the stained glass windows and the sound of Christmas hymns filling the air, Dani closes her eyes and prays. Not for forgiveness or guidance, but for the strength to get through one more night of pretending.

THE MASS is beautiful. Dani can admit that, even as she sits stiffly in the pew beside her dad, staring at the soft glow of candlelight flickering against the stained-glass windows. The choir’s voices rise, sweet and reverent, songs of praise. Incense curls through the air, familiar and comforting in a way that reminds her of all the Christmases past, of sitting in this very spot with her parents when she was a kid, back when her mom would pull her close, hold her hand, and sing along quietly to the hymns.

But tonight, Dani feels nothing but emptiness.

No matter how beautiful the service is, no matter how much everyone around her is wrapped up in the joy of the season, Dani can’t shake the hollowness inside her. To these people, to this religion, to her God, someone like her is nothing but a sinner. It doesn’t matter how many times she comes to confession, how often she kneels and begs for forgiveness, or how hard she tries to repent. Her sin isn’t just sin—it’s love. And love is supposed to be pure, isn’t it? It’s supposed to be good and true. But her love, the love she feels for Paige, is something this church sees as wrong, as twisted and disgusting and impure. And it makes everything so much harder.

As the priest delivers his final blessing, Dani lowers her head, mouthing the words to the closing prayer but not really hearing them. Her heart is too heavy, weighed down by guilt and fear and longing. When the congregation rises to leave, Dani stands with them, moving in a daze, following her dad out of the church without a word.

They step out into the freezing night, the air crisp and biting against her skin. Dani pulls her coat tighter around herself as they make their way toward the cemetery behind the church. The snow crunches beneath their feet, the cold nipping at her exposed skin. She can see her breath in the air, little clouds of warmth vanishing into the frigid darkness.

When they reach her mother’s headstone, Dani stops beside her dad, staring down at the grave. The name etched into the stone seems to shimmer beneath the thin layer of snow, the years since her mom’s death feeling both like a lifetime and no time at all.

It’s silent for a few minutes, neither of them knowing what to say. Dani feels her throat tighten as she stands there, her eyes fixed on the headstone. She wonders if her mom knows—if, somehow, from wherever she is, her mom can see the truth. If she would have understood. If she would have fought for Dani when her dad sent her away.

The silence breaks when her dad finally speaks.

“She would be so proud of you, you know,” he says, his voice quiet but firm.

Dani swallows hard, her chest tightening at the words. She doesn’t look at him, just keeps her eyes on the headstone, blinking against the sting of tears she refuses to let fall. She’s not sure she believes him. Not sure if her mom would be proud of the person she’s become, or if she would be disappointed in her, just like her dad always seems to be.

He turns to her, placing a hand on her shoulder and squeezing it. “I’m so proud of you,” he tells her, and the sincerity in his voice makes Dani’s stomach twist.

She turns to stare at him, the words unfamiliar and strange coming out of his mouth. He’s never said that to her before. He’s always been critical, cold, his disappointment palpable in the way he’d look at her like she was something to be fixed, something wrong. But now, standing here, he’s looking at her with something close to affection, admiration even, and it confuses her. It hurts her.

“I’ve watched you face so many demons, overcome so many sins,” he continues, his grip on her shoulder tightening slightly as if to emphasize his words. “And you’ve come out the other side stronger. A good Catholic girl, just like your mother would have wanted. A good saint.”

Dani’s heart clenches painfully at the word saint, at the way he speaks as if she’s become someone to be admired, someone who’s found her way back to the light. The irony of it all makes her want to scream. He thinks she’s rid herself of her sins—thinks she’s free of the darkness that plagued her when she was with Paige. But the truth is, she’s only happy now because she’s back with Paige. The sin he believes she’s overcome is the very thing that’s saved her.

“I’ve seen how happy you’ve become,” her dad continues, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You’re different now. You’ve found peace.”

Dani almost laughs. She’s different because she’s finally allowed herself to be with Paige again. She’s happy because Paige is the one person who makes her feel whole. And yet her dad is standing here, congratulating her for turning away from the very thing that makes her happy. The disconnect between what he believes and what she knows is so sharp it feels like it’s splitting her in two.

“You’ve done everything right,” he says, his tone filled with pride. “Your grades are good, you’re focused, and you’ve got a good boyfriend in Beau. I know your mom would’ve been proud of the life you’re building. And I’m excited to see where you go next, Dani. You’re gonna go far.”

Dani feels like her throat is closing up. She hasn’t told him that she and Beau broke up over a month ago. She hasn’t told him the truth about anything. And now, as she stands here, hearing him talk about how proud he is of the person she’s become, all she can think about is how none of it is real. None of it is her. If he knew the truth—if he knew about Paige—he wouldn’t be saying any of this.

“Thanks, Dad,” Dani manages to murmur, her voice tight, the words barely making it past the lump in her throat.

But inside, she feels like she’s falling apart. Because all of his pride, all of his admiration, is built on a lie. And that fucking hurts more than anything.

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