#actually I think I got them all two days ago

[hubbvrd]

Love letter | Quinn Hughes

summary — in which quinn is in love with y/n the social media worker for the canucks.

pairing — quinn hughes x reader

words — 2955

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

You couldn't choose who you fell in love with.

It usually happened so quickly that you hardly noticed and couldn't do anything about it.

It was actually a nice feeling to be in love. You had the feeling that the world suddenly became carefree and you walked around with a good feeling.

You were happy to see the person again and to be near them, while the warmth shot up your cheeks and your stomach tingled.

That's exactly how Quinn felt at the moment. He was in love.

A few weeks ago, he had fallen in love with the young woman y/n, who worked in social media for the Canucks.

In a joint video, in which the young woman had asked him countless questions to create content for the Canucks fans, the two of them had had a lot of fun and occasionally got a little closer to each other, so that the odd physical contact was inevitable.

Since then, Quinn had been thinking about the young woman almost constantly.

His teammates Elias and Brock would often catch him looking over at the young woman during training, who would take photos or videos and then post them on social media channels.

This was the case again today. Practice was in full swing as Quinn gripped his racket tighter and scanned the ice ring for the woman who was turning his head.

It took him a few seconds to spot her. She was standing there with a young man Quinn had only glimpsed so far and seemed to be laughing happily about something.

Every now and then, the stranger would touch her, causing Quinn to unconsciously tighten his grip on his bat and his eyebrows to furrow slightly.

"Hey man, you're staring again." Elias came to stand next to Quinn on the ice, so Quinn saw Elias adjusting his helmet out of the corner of his eye.

Quinn knew he didn't need to give Elias an excuse, because his best friend knew about the young woman and Quinn's feelings.

A few days ago, Elias had caught Quinn staring and then confronted him, but Quinn had folded not long after and told Elias everything.

After all, there were no secrets between the two best friends.

"You should finally ask her out."

Now Elias stood in front of Quinn so that he could no longer look over at the woman who had taken a liking to him.

"Elias, I-I..." Quinn began to give his team colleague another excuse, as he had done the last few times.

But he raised his gloved hand to indicate Quinn should be quiet.

As Elias began to speak, he gave the captain a serious look.

"Quinn, you have a different excuse every time. I can see how smitten you are. But the longer you hesitate, the less chance you have. I hate to say it, but I guess that guy over there is trying to get to her himself."

With a nod, Elias gestured over to the young woman and the red-haired man, who had come a little closer to her and kept grabbing her by the arm.

From a distance, Quinn couldn't interpret the expression on the young woman's face, as she was standing with half her back to him.

"And how am I supposed to do that? Just run over and pull her away from the redhead?"

A nervous expression formed on Quinn's face. The thought of simply walking over to her and approaching her made him start to sweat.

He wasn't good at approaching women, so the thought of talking to the young woman made him want to flee.

"That's actually how you do it, yes. But I have another idea." A grin formed on Elias's face as he stepped a little closer to Quinn and then whispered something in his best friend's ear.

And this idea appealed to Quinn so much that he decided to put it into practice.

"Good morning" a smile came to your lips as you greeted your colleagues and then slipped inside.

"Good morning, y/n! Good to see you." One of your colleagues, Lucy, ran up to you beaming and then pulled you into a tight hug.

Ever since you'd taken the social media job with the Canucks, Lucy and you had become instant friends.

Since then, you've been more or less inseparable. Lucy also worked for the social media team.

She usually took over the press conferences or was there for the post-match interviews, while you took care of the social media channels and shot the occasional content video.

The brunette put her arm around you as you walked side by side through the building to the small office where you had made yourselves comfortable.

The office wasn't very big, so only two desks fitted in opposite each other and two small, cozy armchairs had found their place at the other end of the wall.

Despite their small size, you loved the office more than anything, even if you spent more time on the road than in the office.

"What's on your agenda today?" You checked in with your colleague and best friend as you opened your office door and slipped into the light blue room.

On the wall behind your desk was a huge Canucks logo painted on the wall, while on the other blue-painted walls were some pictures of the team that you had taken yourself.

"I've actually just got some paperwork today and need to make a few phone calls for upcoming interviews, you?" Lucy dropped into her desk chair while you carelessly threw your jacket onto one of the chairs and then walked over to your desk.

Before you could even begin to reply, a white envelope lying on your desk caught his attention.

It wasn't unusual for you to receive mail in the morning, but this letter was different to the mail you usually received.

You could feel that directly. Slowly, you walked over to your desk as you answered Lucy curtly.

You didn't want your colleague to get suspicious.

Your name was written on the letter in curved handwriting. There was no sender or indication of where it might have come from.

This led you to conclude that this was a personal letter.

Your curiosity grew as you began to examine the letter, but made no attempt to open it.

Who wrote you a letter?

You carefully picked up the letter. It was quite light and you could feel a note through the thin envelope.

"Who did you get mail from?" You suddenly heard Lucy's voice, who had more or less caught you in the act.

"Oh, just from a customer, nothing important," you babbled and opened a drawer in your desk to carefully put the letter inside.

Your curiosity wouldn't diminish over the next hour, but you wanted to read the letter in peace and quiet, so you had to wait until Lucy left the office and you could finally be undisturbed.

But you didn't know how agonizingly slow the time would be until then.

Four agonizingly long hours passed before Lucy finally made the effort to leave your shared office to have a conversation.

After the door had slammed shut behind Lucy, you jerked out the letter, which you carefully opened and pulled out the neatly folded paper with your heart beating faster.

With trembling fingers and increasing nervousness, you unfolded the paper before placing it on the desk in front of you and began to read.

Dear y/n,

I keep looking at you, but can't touch you.

You don't know, how much l want to. want to be near you, want you to look my way.

A moment alone with you, would be beautiful. A moment alone with you, would feel eternal.

You skimmed over the words again and again. Your heart kept leaping in your chest as you read them.

You had never received such words before. In the past, you had always found it very cheesy when your friends told you that they had received love letters or wrote them themselves.

But now that you had your first love letter in front of you, it warmed your heart.

It was really sweet to read these words that were addressed directly to you.

You didn't know who this letter was from, but you wished it was a special person.

This one particular player called Quinn Hughes.

The first time you had made a video with him for social media, you had immediately noticed how well you Both got on and you had even gotten a little closer to each other at times.

Since then, you've often thought about the captain and occasionally caught yourself looking over at him and staring at him for a few seconds, lost in thought.

But what if the letter wasn't from Quinn at all, but from Alex? Alex had been very close to you recently and you had caught him looking for physical contact again and again.

Alex was a really nice young man, but you just wasn't attracted to him.

The thought that the letter could be from Alex made your face contort slightly and you put the letter aside.

Your fingers reached for the envelope, which you began to shake and shortly afterwards a small Post it note in the shape of a heart fell out.

You had completely overlooked the post it so far, so you reached for the pink note with a pounding heart and turned it over to reveal the writing.

If you're brave enough to find out who I am, meet me in the parking lot at 7 tonight.

Once again, no signature under the message. There wasn't even a single letter that would have given you any idea who had written you this sweet letter.

Your heart was almost pounding against your chest as you glanced at the bottom of my computer screen to see what time it was.

By now it was 6:30pm and so you still had some time before you would meet the unknown love letter writer.

Nervously, you started to slide around a bit on the black office chair.

You were really curious to find out who was behind the sweet lines.

But even though the message was really sweet, you were afraid that it might just be a joke.

After all, the Canucks boys had the occasional challenge and banter amongst themselves.

But had you really become one of her victims? With the best will in the world you couldn't really imagine that, as everyone was incredibly nice to you and treated you as if you'd been part of the team for ages.

Of course, you never know what makes other people tick and even though you couldn't imagine for the life of you that this letter was just a joke, you decided to be careful.

But despite all this, you wanted to know who was behind the letter and so you decided to go to the place where it was said and find out who it was.

Your heart beat a little faster against your chest with excitement and nervousness.

You hadn't mentioned the letter to Lucy once, so you had to come up with an excuse to more or less get rid of Lucy at the end of the working day an hour ago, as she was desperate to have a drink with you.

The last hour that you had spent alone in your office had gone by rather agonizingly slowly, even though you had already prepared a post or two for the next few days on social media.

But now it was time to find out who had written you the letter.

With every step you took closer to the parking lot, your heart began to beat faster and faster, making you feel like it could jump out of your chest at any second.

You buried your hands, which had become sweaty again, deeper into your jacket pockets, where your right hand played with your bunch of keys.

You were incredibly nervous, so your hand needed something to do and you were a little more distracted.

When you arrived at the parking lot, your eyes wandered nervously back and forth.

In addition to your car, there were four other cars in the parking lot, but you couldn't identify their owners.

Since you didn't know exactly where to wait in the not-so-small parking lot, you positioned yourself a little more centrally in the large parking lot so that the unknown person could easily spot you.

A glance at your cell phone display showed that it was still five minutes until 7 pm.

You used the time to take a few more deep breaths and try to calm yourself down as best you could.

Luckily, it wasn't a dark time of year, so you didn't have to be afraid of the parking lot, which was usually only dimly lit by a few lanterns in winter.

Although the weather was pretty gloomy today and the clouds were increasing, it was bright enough that you had a good view of all the creepy corners and only had to run a few meters to your car if necessary.

Your eyes scanned your surroundings and every time footsteps came closer, you looked hopefully in the direction they were coming from.

But none of them paid any attention to you and shortly afterwards, all but one of the other cars pulled away.

So the last car, which was not too far away from yours, had to be the car of the man who had written you the letter.

A few more minutes passed, during which the nervousness began to creep up inside you again.

And then suddenly the time had come.

From a distance, you could recognize someone. The person was wearing a dark blue hoodie that clearly stood out.

His hood was pulled over his head and his gaze was slightly lowered, so you couldn't tell who it was yet.

On his shoulder was a sports bag, on which you could see the Canucks logo from a distance.

So it was a player, you thought, as the stranger came closer and closer to you and your nervousness grew so much that your heart began to pound in your chest again.

He seemed to be moving in slow motion and took forever to get to you, so you started moving without thinking twice and ran towards him.

When the two of you finally came face to face, the stranger slowly lifted his head and pulled the hood off his head, revealing thick brown hair.

And your heart literally skipped a beat as you struggled not to clasp your hands over your mouth.

Because standing in front of you was none other than Quinn Hughes.

The man you had gotten a little closer to some time ago.

The man you got on well with straight away.

The man who made you laugh.

The man you couldn't stop thinking about.

"Quinn..." His name left your mouth in an almost whisper.

The person opposite you nodded in response, a shy smile on his lips and he began to clutch the handle of his sports bag like a lifeline.

Suddenly he seemed so shy and embarrassed. Very different from your video shoot.

He cleared his throat. "Hello, y/n."

"The...the letter...it's from you?" To be on the safe side, you checked again. There was a little fear in your voice because you wanted the letter to be from him.

"Yes, I wrote the letter."

Embarrassed, Quinn looked at you and ran his free hand through his thick hair, brushing a few strands that had fallen into his eyes out of his face.

"Wow...I mean...those words really touched me" You babbled on, which made Quinn's cheeks turn a light shade of pink.

"Really?" he asked hopefully. He couldn't seem to believe that you were reacting so positively.

You began to nod eagerly.  "Yes, really!" 

Quinn began to almost beam and seemed to spend some time searching for the right words, which made you slightly nervous.

"I'm not really good at talking, that's why Elias gave me the idea of the letter. I thought you thought this was just a joke and you weren't even going to show up, but I'm really relieved you're here."

Now it was Quinn who was babbling nervously as his left hand moved to the back of his neck, where he began to scratch himself in embarrassment.

"Really? I thought it was a joke too, since the name wasn't signed. But I was too curious and wanted to see who was here."

A nervous laugh leaves your lips, causing Quinn to start laughing as well.

"Wow...that's really something."

Quinn smirked slightly before gathering all his courage and finally the sentences he would have loved to ask you already left his mouth.

"Y/n I know this might be risky because you work for the same team as me. I don't know exactly what the contracts and agreement are here, but I think you realize there's something between us too, don't you? Would you...would you go out with me?"

His eyes looked at you with an almost hopeful expression, while your heart stumbled again and you began to feel the warmth rush to your cheeks.

And it actually didn't take you long to give Quinn a suitable answer.

Because the answer has been on the tip of your tongue for a long time and you were finally able to say it out loud.

"I would love to go on a date with you, Quinn."

[jrow]

May Prompts (5)

Day 4 here.

Awkward

“This part is a bit awkward. Sorry, John.”

He’s been aware of the nurse doing various checks on him, but this is the first time she’s spoken. When he feels her his gown and start doing something around his cock and balls, he feels obliged to say something. From his perspective silence only makes this more awkward.

“So, I have a cath then,” he croaks out, opening his eyes halfway. It’s so damn bright in here. He’s suddenly keenly aware of how thirsty he is. He’s also keenly aware that he doesn’t really know what’s going on.

“Well, hello there!” the nurse says, brightly. He recognizes her voice—did he talk to her before? “You’re awake!” She continues to do her work under his gown, and John can feel his cheeks redden. “And yes, of course you have a catheter. Standard for this kind of thing, as you well know doctor.”

He’s about to argue that he actually doesn’t know what kind of thing is even happening but decides the need to drink is more pressing.

“Thirsty,” he rasps. He turns his head and winces. His head is pounding and he feels awful. It's bad enough that he can't be bothered to continue feeling embarrassed that a random woman is currently cleaning a tube shoved up his urethra.

“Of course,” the nurse says, lowering his gown. In a flash she is by his side with a cup of water. John shifts to drink and notices a familiar feeling under his arm. He looks down and his blood goes cold.

“Sherlock,” he says, alarmed, water (and his own discomfort) entirely forgotten. “Where is he?” Even John is smart enough to deduce he’s in a hospital, but he has no recollection of why. If he got hurt, there’s a non-zero chance that Sherlock did too. Why else would his coat be here? John feels his heart rate accelerating and a machine starts beeping loudly. He has another, equally terrifying thought. “And Rosie, where’s Rosie? Are they okay?”

Think, John. Remember!

"Calm down, it's okay, nothing happened to them,” the nurse says, resting a hand on his shoulder. "I assume Rosie's your daughter, then? Mr. Holmes left to a few hours ago to take care of her. Said he'd be back after he dropped her off at nursery." She chuckles. "He was a bit of a mess last night, but he took the time to rant at me about the substantial empirical evidence that routine is crucial for young children, even more so in times of crises.” She leans closer and lowers her voice. “To be honest, I think he was trying to convince himself. I suspect he felt guilty about leaving.”

Warmth fills John's chest. "That sounds about right. And err...sorry about him. He can be difficult when he’s a …. mess.”

"No apology needed," she replies. "He was a bit of an arse between the tears, but," she drops her voice again and whispers, "only to the doctor, really, and he deserved it. He’s good but he has a touch of an ego.”

“So does Sherlock,” John says with a chuckle and then grimaces as pain radiates across his chest. God, his whole body hurts.

“I noticed,” the nurse replies, with a wink. “Two egos like that … well, let’s say it got a bit tense.” She leans back. “Now drink and then I’ll see about getting you something for the pain.”

John complies, focusing on the feeling of cold water moving down his throat. When he’s done, the nurse pats him on the shoulder and puts the cup down.

“I’ll go fetch your doctor,” she says as she looks at her watch. “And your Sherlock should be back soon. Hopefully they’ll be able to answer all the questions I can see you have.”

“Good,” he says through a yawn. He closes his eyes, suddenly very tired.

The nurse makes a sound of agreement. “You can rest now if you like.”

John thinks he will.

@calaisreno @raina-at @totallysilvergirl @meetinginsamarra @lisbeth-kk @jolieblack @friday411 @helloliriels @safedistancefrombeingsmart @keirgreeneyes

Let me know if you want the added or removed from the tags!

[lillikitty]

Can I request a scenario with Chuuya in which the Reader acts very irritated and childish when she's sleep-deprived (who is a member of the Port Mafia)? Like they both have feelings for each other, but they haven't confessed yet 😔 (skill issue)

This is a fun idea! I hope I do your request justice! I did this right as I woke up so apologies if it’s not the best.

Chuuya x Sleep Deprived! Reader

The port mafia is not a place for the weak. Most can go several nights without sleeping and still be at their best. However, that doesn’t mean that lack of sleep can’t get to the best of them. Everyone needs sleep after all.

But you don’t believe that. You’ll sleep when you pass out and so far, you haven’t passed out. You got sent on a late night mission 3 nights in a row. You haven’t slept for 3 days and it’s starting to sink in on your brain. Thinking you might be able to finally get a night off, an emergency happened at one of the mafia’s weapon facilities that had you staying up for another night.

You and Chuuya got sent to the facility to wait and see if the culprit who’s sabotaging the transfer of these weapons comes back. You were dragging your feet as your eyelids felt heavy but you knew you had to stay awake. “Chuuyaaaaa, do we have to?” You whine, breaking the comfortable silence that had fallen between you two.

“Yeah, we do. The boss said so. So stop whining.” He scoffed a bit as he looked at you. You grumbled at him, “Well sorry if I don’t wanna do some stupid mission.” Chuuya is a bit taken aback as you aren’t one to usually call any mission stupid. He looks at you and takes in your demeanor. “Are you tired?” He asks. “Psh, no. I’m not tired, you’re tired.” You say as you stick your tongue out at him. A small smile forms on Chuuya’s face before he chuckles. “I think you are tired. You should’ve said-“ Chuuya was cut off by you tripping him. He caught himself before his face hit the ground and he looked up at you. “See? You’re the tired one.” You hum as you keep walking.

Chuuya picked himself up and followed after you. “Y/n, when was the last time you slept?” He asks with a bit of worry in his voice. “I dunno, 3 or 4 days ago or somethin’.” You’re words have been coming out a bit slurred and Chuuya is probably the only one who’d notice. He frowns a bit at that as this mission is supposed to last all night. It’s a stake out to make sure whoever was at the facility doesn’t come back.

Once you and Chuuya get to your position to watch the facility for the night he looks over at you and watches as you sway a bit, your eyelids fighting the urge to close. He sighs as he takes off his jacket and wraps it around your shoulders before pulling you into his side. “Hey! What’re you-“ You start to protest but Chuuya shushes you. “Just shut up and get some sleep. I’ll wake you if something happens.” He says as he looks away to hide the blush that’s rising to his cheeks. “Nuh uh! I told you I’m not tired!” You protest vocally but your body curls up next to Chuuya’s as your head rests on his shoulder. “I don’t need to sleep.. I’m fine..” A yawn is followed shortly after your protest and your heavy eyelids finally win their battle and close, you were out in seconds.

Chuuya sighs as he looks down at you. He’s never seen you act like this before but he found it rather cute. He brushes some of your hair out of your face as he just holds you close to him. He has no intentions of actually waking you up. He’s just gonna let you sleep as long as you need to.

Nothing happened that night at the facility. Once it was dawn, Chuuya called up Mori to let him know that nothing happened but you and him were taking the rest of the day off. Mori understood and let you both have the day for yourselves. Chuuya ended up carrying you back to his place as you were still out cold. While sleeping, he found you quite peaceful. It was very different from how daring and crazy you were on the battlefield. He unlocked the door to his place and carried you to his room. He laid you down on his bed and was about to take his jacket from you when you grabbed the jacket in your sleep and held it. The blush he had before came flooding back and he just let you be and went to the living room to just relax for the day.

Around 2 PM your eyelids finally fluttered open. You yawned and sat up as you stretched your body out. When you finally took in your surroundings you realized you weren’t in your room, then remembered the stake out mission you panicked. “Oh shit- What happened?” You quickly got up and ran out of the room to only pause when you smelt some food. You peaked around the corner and saw Chuuya cooking. He glanced over his shoulder then smiled. “Good morning sleeping beauty.” He says with a smirk.

“What happened last night? The mission, was everything okay?” You choose to ignore his comment even if it did make you blush a little. “It was fine. Nothing happened. This morning I told Mori to let us have the day off so you could sleep, for 14 hours.” Chuuya chuckled. You went wide eyed. “14 hours? Why didn’t you wake me?” “Because you needed sleep. Now sit down and eat.” Chuuya set a plate of food on the table and pulled out the seat for you to sit down. You sighed and took a seat and looked at the food. You didn’t even realize you were hungry until you started eating, and damn was it some good food.

Once you had your fill you looked at Chuuya who had been eating as well. “Thank you..” You mumbled. “For letting me sleep.” You finished a bit louder that before. Chuuya looked at you and smiled, “Hang out with me more when you’re sleep deprived. You’re funny.” He chuckles. Your face reddens as you can’t quite remember what you said or did and you worry you did something embarrassing. “Oh shut up! I think you just want to be my knight in shining armor again.” You tease, hoping to get him back. Chuuya then grabs your hand and gives it a gentle kiss, “I always will be, and next time I’ll wake sleeping beauty with a kiss.” He teases back. You’re face gets and even darker shade of red as you weren’t prepared for that. However a small smile forms on your lips as you wouldn’t mind being woken up by a kiss from him.

[megamindsecretlair]

Runaway Lover, Part 3

Pairing: Professor!Big Stunna x Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. SMUT. ANGST. PWP, cursing, PIV, oral (female receiving) teasing/mocking, size kink, dirty talk, praise kink, possession kink, all consensual. Power imbalance. Spoilers for the Red Rising Saga by Pierce Brown.

Summary: Having to see Stunna day in and day out is physical torture. So much so that you have to take matters into your hands. However, once Stunna learns that, he has an alternative to benefit you both.

Word Count: 7,193k

Part 1 | Part 2

A/N: WHEW, I needed this in my life. They're so cute, I can't stand them. Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! Artists need it for their enrichment.

Taglist: @planetblaque @blackerthings @browngirldominion @we-outsiiiide @thecookiebratz @iv0rysoap @notapradagurl7 @sevikasblackgf @miyuhpapayuh @xo-goldengirl @kindofaintrovert @flydotty @judymfmoody @slippinninque @soufcakmistress @henneseyhoe @westside-rot @melaninpov @twocentuar @blackpinup22 @babybratzmaraj @theyscreamsannii @kiabialia @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @nworbaij @hopefulromantic1 @lesbiantreehugger @longpause-awkwardsmile @badassdoll @kholdkill @blackpinup22 @cardi-bre91 @blowmymbackout @jay-mach @sageispunk @yourofficialgal @liyaah02 @monaeesstuff @amethyst09 @harmshake @satoruya @theunsweetenedtruth @ciaqui

If there were nine circles of hell, you were most certainly in the tenth. Stunna walked in thirty minutes ago wearing a delicious black outfit. It was simple. A black polo shirt, black slacks, no show socks, and white tennis shoes. He wore a few rings, gold bracelets, and a gold necklace peeked out from his collar.

He was, in a word, completely sexy without even trying. And it was absolutely wrecking you. True to your word, you didn’t wear anything provocative. You didn’t wear dresses or skirts, just a heavy rotation of leggings and graphic T-shirts.

But you thought that he was still checking you out. That you caught little glimpses of him smirking or his eyes roving over you. 

Stunna did not keep his word, however. He continued showing up to class like he was being interviewed for television that day. All of his outfits had been cataloged thoroughly by you and likely by every other person in the class. 

The first week without him was torture beyond compare. The second week felt like your chest was getting cracked open. You saw him a few times a week and you had agreed to not text him. To not call him. And try like hell to not think about him. 

That lasted for about…two classes. Before you were running back to your dorm in the middle of the day and letting your vibrator work off some of those nasty thoughts from class. The vibrator was good but paled in comparison to the size of his massive dick. 

It couldn’t compare to his hands running over you, manhandling you, or to his filthy words whispered in your ear. You looked away from him unless he saw the look all over your face. But just like with everything else, he seemed connected to you on a deeper level.

His eyes found yours and his jaw flexed. You clenched your thighs and shifted in your seat. Catching on, Stunna cleared his throat and moved across the floor towards a podium. He got everyone’s attention.

“I hope you all did the reading assignment because I want you to break into smaller groups and share your thoughts about the latest chapters. We have enough for about three to a group, I’ll let you pick since you’re adults. But please, if you’re going to partner with friends, actually discuss something about the book,” he said. 

That caused a few giggles but your stomach only sank. You didn’t truly have friends in this class. You weren’t the type that was friendly to everyone simply because you were taking the same class.

“Wanna be my partner?” The strawberry blond girl next to you said. You were pretty sure her name was…Samantha? 

“Sure,” you said. You didn’t really. You didn’t want her to spontaneously start talking about Stunna. Sitting through his class was bad enough. But pretending like his initials weren’t sewn into your heart was another level of acting that you weren’t great at.

She had recruited someone else, a boy named Khalil that almost rivaled Stunna in good looks. He was lighter with a fade, strong jaw, and a football player build with big arms, narrow waist, and powerful legs. If you weren’t already spoken for, you’d be crushing on him. As it were, no other guy did it for you now. 

You introduced yourself formally to him and he smiled. His smile was cute. But nowhere near as devastating as Stunna. 

For the next couple of minutes, you discussed the book from the homework assignment. You talked about what you liked and didn’t like about the characters. You heard Stunna moving about the room, checking in with groups and posing challenging questions. 

You dreaded the moment he made it to your group. “What you think about using Reds as an entire labor force? Keeping them ignorant, dumb, and too stupid to see that they weren’t getting any closer to the dream?” Khalil asked.

You turned your head to him, confusion likely flitting across your face. You didn’t mean to be biased, but you hadn’t thought he’d have something intelligent to say. He was as quiet as you and you saw him doodling most of the class. 

He smirked. “I’m not all good looks,” he said. 

You rolled your eyes at the joke and shook your head. “I find it funny that a lot of these sci-fi authors can understand using people for labor is wrong, highlighting the conditions they’re under, and the sheer insidiousness of oppression, but lack any real Black people in their books.” 

“Then again, do you really want the Reds to be Black? They damn sure ain’t gonna have any Black golds,” Khalil said.

You laughed, because sadly that's the truth. The Red Rising Saga was an interesting series, but honestly, adult sci-fi writers bored you to tears. They were so stuffy and too into their own wordy prose that they lost the whimsy. The excitement of exploring a new world. 

You didn’t need to know every single soap at a market when the more interesting story was about the two main characters who had to find common ground. 

Samantha looked completely lost, turning a shade of red that you didn’t think was possible. You stared at her, wondering if she would say anything. You weren’t going to do the work for her or give her an easy out. Khalil seemed of the same mindset as he looked at her as well.

“Well, I find it extremely noble that Darrow did all of this for his love,” Samantha said. 

Coward. “Yeah but in this day and age, are we really still fridging women?” You asked. 

She was saved from answering from a delicious aroma preceding an equally delicious man. Stunna interrupted, leaning against a desk near your group. He asked what you were discussing and you finally lifted your eyes to meet his.

Huge, huge mistake. You could get lost in those eyes of his. Like sitting underneath a dark night sky looking for stars. You smiled briefly at each other before you turned your attention to Samantha who turned a darker shade of red. Seriously, you were starting to get a little worried.

“We were…um…” She faltered as Stunna looked at her. 

Again, jealousy reared its ugly head as she hemmed and hawed her way through a bullshit answer. But you saw the way that she tossed her hair back, batted her eyes. Giggled even though there wasn’t a damn thing funny about the book or your discussion.

“We were talking about the role of women in the book. How Io was fridged and even though there are other women, they are distinctly cold and calculating most of the time. In a society based heavily on Roman culture, it’s a wonder he bothered to put any women at all in it,” you said. 

Stunna leaned back, turning his attention back on you. Whoops. You should have let Samantha fumble through her answer. Or better yet, have Khalil come to her rescue. Black dudes usually did after about five minutes of second hand embarrassment. 

“I’m sure the author would have gotten flack for not including women or sending the dangerous message that women can’t perform in war games,” Stunna said. 

“I’d rather they not do it at all. That’s better than having to sit through ten pages of pining because one of the main girls followed the winning side,” you said.

Just like that, it seemed like you and Stunna were the only two in the room. He listened, which was rare, but he seemed to genuinely think about what you were saying. 

“So say you were there, fighting and trying to win the war games. What would you have done?” He asked. 

You smirked and launched into all the things you would have done differently. The war games funneled down to a rivalry between two men who got personal. War wasn’t personal. Not when one of the qualifying tasks was killing someone and being let out into the wild with the survivors of their matches. 

Stunna listened with rapt attention. You felt like beaming under it. He made you feel like the sun and your body warmed the more he asked more questions. He was clearly the more professional of the two of you, because he included Khalil and Samantha in the discussion as well. 

“Good work, this is a good group,” Stunna said. He moved on to another group, passing by you once more. You gasped as he moved as if it were a physical weight on your heart for him to go too far away from you.

Samatha sighed loudly. “He must think I’m a total idiot. You two were so prepared. And me? Ugh. ‘Um, I think I would have aligned with Darrow’,” she said, mimicking her own voice. 

“Your answers were just as good, don’t be so hard on yourself,” Khalil said. And there it was. Like clockwork. Goodness forbid she put herself down and has to live with it.

“Do you think he would even go for a student? Obviously not someone in his class, that’s wrong. But like…after?” 

Khalil laughed and shook his head. “No, I doubt he’d risk his job for something that stupid. You have thousands of appropriate guys to choose from at this school,” Khalil said. He gave you a look, like he couldn’t believe Samantha was serious. 

You smiled and shook your head. There was no way that Stunna would breathe in Samantha’s direction. Because he was already breathing in yours. Once more, you felt the weight of all that transpired in Punta Cana. 

You had no way of knowing that you were boning your teacher, that couldn’t be held against you. The second time though…you still had flashbacks of getting bent over his couch and possessed. Owned. The way he staked his claim and made sure that there were no doubts in your head. You were sprung, in the worst way, and you didn’t know if you could make it to the end of the week without him. Let alone another ten. 

Class winded down and Stunna congratulated everyone on their ideas and going deeper. Your cheeks burned. You were never going to think about anything else all day.

You had been sitting in a puddle of your own arousal since Stunna walked into the room. You needed to get to your daily sesh as soon as possible. Because the gold gleaming off of his skin was making you drool. You had already cooked up a pretty nasty fantasy in your head and you needed to get it out of your system or risk going crazy.

“I just want to remind you all that my office hours are open. Scheduling is preferred but if you need extra help, there’s nothing wrong with that.” Stunna said. Oh, make that two nasty fantasies in your head.

He let class out and while you packed up your things, Khalil got your attention. “I just wanted to say that I really liked what you were talking about in class. I know people start to roll they eyes when it comes to the role of women in books, but you’re right. Darrow wouldn’t be doing half that shit if his wife was still around,” he said.

“Thank you! I just kept thinking that the entire time I was reading. Like ugh. To be fair, the way she died was horrific as shit. That’d call anyone to drastic action.” 

“See exactly! I..um,” Khalil said and licked his lips.

The class was nearly empty by now. You zipped up your bag and threw the strap over your shoulder. You were nearly bouncing with the desire to get with your vibrator. In a short amount of time, Stunna turned you into a sex fiend. Desperately chasing the high of having him inside you and soaking you with his cum. 

You tilted your head at Khalil. If he didn’t spit this shit out, you were going to run him over. 

“Is everything okay here?” Stunna asked. 

You gasped, feeling caught or exposed. You wondered if your horniness was written plain as day on your face. The way you wanted to climb him in this outfit. You could see his skinny ass ankles and now you very much understood every regency show you watched. That bit of ankle was killing you. 

“Yeah, yeah. Just talking about the book. I’ll, uh, see you later,” Khalil stammered and then disappeared so fast, there should have been smoke on his heels. 

And now you were alone with Stunna. Dangerous. Dangerous territory. 

“He seems nice,” Stunna said with a small smile. 

“Don’t tell me you’re jealous,” you said, opting for a tease. You knew it was wrong. You had no reason to doubt the way Stunna felt for you. But being apart from him was killing you. You had no way of knowing if the time apart made him realize how inappropriate this was. If it was better to cancel the 12 week waiting period and move on. 

The silent gasp stole all the breath in your lungs. Thinking about not being with him instantly made you dizzy. 

“If I was? Would it change anything?” He asked. 

“No,” you said, your voice small as you looked at him. This shit sucked. It sucked, it sucked, it sucked. You wanted to scream. You wanted to cry. You wanted to throw your arms around him and hug him at least. Damn. You couldn’t even touch him without risk of it leading to rumors. 

“I miss you,” he said softly. 

“I miss you,” you said. 

You stood and stared into each other’s eyes, a mirror of loneliness and wanting. 

“You don’t have to be jealous. You know that,” you said. 

Stunna ran a hand down his face, looking weary. You hated this. You hated that you couldn’t comfort him. You wanted to hold his hand and walk across the beach again. 

“Doesn’t change the fact that I am. That he’d be more appropriate than I would,” he said.

You swallowed around the huge, dry lump in your throat. You didn’t want to call attention to the elephant in the room. You didn’t want to think about the end. Your anxiety leapt off with all the implications of his words. 

“Are you…saying that we…” God, you couldn’t even get the words out. Tears were already burning and you were not an easy crier. 

“No! Fuck no! Hell no!” He said. He sighed and folded his arms across his chest. There were too many conflicting emotions. You needed your brain and heart to line up. Because while you were sad about a possible ending, you couldn’t help admiring the cut of his arms across his black outfit. 

“I bought a calendar to mark off the end of class. You’re mine and I meant that,” he said.

You giggled to cover up how much you were desperate to hear that from him. “Good. Because so did I,” you said. 

He laughed but it ended quickly as you went back to sharing and communicating without words. You ached to ask him what he’s been up to, what he’s been reading. You had a lifetime of his to catch up on and you wanted to know every single detail. But you didn’t have that kind of time. 

“I should probably…” You said.

“For sure. My bad,” he said. He stood up, letting you pass. You smiled at him and took a few steps, that chain connecting you two growing taut. 

“Can you come over tonight? I…miss you so fuckin’ much,” he said. 

“I can’t…” You said.

“I know. I’m sorry for asking. That's not fair,” he said. He nodded and avoided looking at you.

You sighed. You needed to walk away. You needed to think about the bigger picture. If you two slipped, even once, it would spell disaster. All it would take is one person overhearing you, one person asking too many questions, one person catching the way you two looked at each other…

Your chemistry was a physical thing. You felt it every time you looked at him or thought about him. You weren’t sure if it was the same for him. If he felt this all consuming urge to run to you and never let you go. You were sure that his feelings were strong. But how strong? 

Strong enough to survive a public scandal? He just got here. You refused to be the cause of him losing his job, ending up a national joke, or have this following him around for the rest of his career. He was just getting started. You couldn’t stand in the way of that. You wouldn’t. 

Armed with that knowledge, you had just enough self-preservation to leave the room without another word. The shit hurt, like it always did. But then again, you and pain weren’t strangers. You said hello to your old friend, letting the ache wash over you and remind you that this was for Stunna. He would always come first.

“Dammit,” you huffed. You made it one month with no physical contact from Stunna. No text messages or dirty pictures to tide you over either. Just your imagination, horniness, and ole reliable. Until ole reliable stopped working mid sesh.

 You clicked the button but the damn thing was gone. Finished. You really needed to get a rechargeable one but you would die trying to plug that thing in somewhere for a few hours. Stella and Angela would never let you live it down. 

You tossed it on your bed and tossed on the nearest bottoms, a skirt that covered what it needed to. You went looking through your room for spare batteries. You just needed a little more time. You were soaked with sweat already, feeling like the nasty girl Stunna praised in Punta Cana. 

Stunna gave a rare lecture today. Finished with one of the books on the list, he swerved into poetry. He talked about plays as well, Shakespeare and Christopher Marlowe. He heard everyone’s groans, thinking Shakespeare was so high school.

But then Stunna had to go on and start reciting some of the words to Romeo and Juliet. He went on about how it really shouldn’t be taught to teenagers. Not because it was too complicated, but because teens needed to do a little growing up to appreciate Shakespeare’s words. 

There needed to be a little heartbreak before it sunk in just how much these two wanted to be together but were separated by circumstance. God. He had the entire class melting with that one. 

You especially. You felt like he was talking directly to you. The pining, the yearning of Romeo and Juliet. There was a reason that story had endured for hundreds of years. There was a reason he had to be the one to teach it. 

“There’s beauty in yearning, isn’t there? Humans love to torture themselves but never more so when it comes to matters of the heart. Unrequited love, loving the wrong person, giving in to things that you know you shouldn’t. Indulging in something so bad but it makes you feel so good. That is why poetry exists. To shine a light on these moments,” he had said and fuck, you wanted to push him down on the desk and suck the soul out of his body. 

You couldn’t get out of the classroom fast enough. Too keyed up. Too horny. Burning with the need to jump his bones but unable to do so. And now your vibrator wasn’t working and there wasn’t a damn battery in the fucking dorm. 

You searched Angela and Stella’s rooms, not finding a shiny fucking Duracell. Does no one need batteries these days? You longed for the junk drawer at home that was always good for one more battery. It was magic and you missed it. 

“Fuck,” you said. You went back to your room, leaning against the doorway. You had a very important executive decision to make. Your next class wasn’t for some time, but you didn’t have that much time. You needed to get off and had a hard time cumming with just your fingers. 

You could walk away, but then…why deny yourself that pleasure? You were already denying yourself riding the tilt-a-whirl on Stunna’s dick and you couldn’t handle these thoughts in your head any longer. 

It was a miracle you made it a month. You made sure not to linger after class anymore. You were weak. You could feel your resolve crumbling every time Stunna looked at you. Every time he spoke, joked, or engaged a different student in a friendly debate, you felt like stripping down, bending over, grabbing your ankles, and letting him have his wicked way with you. Other people in the room be damned. 

Shit. You already answered your own question. If you couldn’t have him, then you needed Little Stunna. Yes, you named your vibrator after your incredibly hot and untouchable teacher and you’d take it to your grave. 

You slipped into flip flops, grabbed your keys and wallet, and headed out of the dorm. You had time. You had time. You repeated this to yourself as you left the dorm building and headed across campus towards the bookstore.

It wasn’t the first time you’d gone commando but you felt like everyone could look at you and see what a horny pervert you were. You felt a spotlight burning into your back, broadcasting that you were just neck deep in a fantasy where you were a confused girl lost in the woods and Stunna was a half naked jungle man helping you find your way, with a pit stop on his dick. 

Listen, Brandon Fraser pretty much ruined you for all other men until Stunna came along. You watched George of the Jungle one too many times. So much so, you had the campfire song from the movie etched into your memory. 

I’ve been waiting for you all my life, hoping for a miracle

I’ve been waiting day and night, day and night

Would there ever be a moment that you didn’t relate absolutely everything back to Stunna? Probably not. 

The bookstore was clean and fresh, somehow giving off an incredible Academia aroma that couldn’t be achieved anywhere else. It smelled like learning. Like school spirit. 

It was blissfully empty and you made a beeline towards the technology section. You scanned for double A batteries, eyes lingering on other stuff. You debated if you should get another pack now or when you needed it. 

You still had three more months to go. “Fuck,” you sighed. Three more months. They might as well tell you that you really were in the tenth circle of hell. You’d believe that an eternity at college, studying the same shit over and over, and staring at your untouchable hot professor was a punishment designed particularly for you. 

Fuck it, you’d come back later when you weren’t a delicate mess at the moment. You couldn’t handle one more fucking thing…

You backed into the aisle and into someone solid. “I’m so sorry!” You screamed, turning around and staring up into Stunna’s beautiful face.

“I’m very sorry, I wasn’t looking,” he said. When it clicked that it was you he bumped into, he immediately stepped closer. His warm hands hovered around your arms like he wanted to steady you but knew he couldn’t touch you.

“I’m fine,” you squeaked. You wanted to die. He was the last person you needed to see at the moment. The absolute last.

You still had images of him in nothing but a loincloth fresh in your mind. Surrounded by dozens of animal pelts. You butterball naked and spread open for him. You rubbed your forehead. This shit wasn’t normal. 

“You don’t seem fine,” he said, lowering his voice. “What are you picking up?” 

You hid the batteries behind your back. You didn’t know if he saw them already, but best to pretend anyway. Pretend that you were here for something innocent and not because you were slutting him out in your fantasies. 

“I got a little bored in between classes and thought I might pick up a book,” you said, totally making that shit up on the fly.

“A book,” Stunna repeated.

“Yup, we are in a bookstore,” you said with a nod, to prove your point. 

“What kind of book?” He asked. He straightened up, clutching his own book to his chest absently. He smirked. You ought to have seen it for what it was and not encouragement to continue with your obvious lie.

“You know that one…mystery author I love,” you said, waving your hand around.

“Really? What’s their name, maybe I’ve heard of them,” he said. 

You looked around for help, but you were at the back of the store. The academic bookshelves were behind him and faced horizontally. You could only see the end caps from where you were and there were no leisure books listed. 

Those were all the way at the front of the store. Fuck. “Brain freeze,” you said and shrugged. You were painfully aware that you didn’t have any panties on, likely still had some of your essence between your thighs, and Stunna was right there. 

He wore a plain olive green shirt, a cream sweater, and light brown pants. Once more his ankles were exposed, and his huge shoes. He looked damn good. 

He checked you out as well, nose flaring at the skirt. He lifted an eyebrow to you. You folded your arms.

“I didn’t think I was going to bump into you. You can’t dictate my clothing choices all the time. I told you to dress like a bum,” you said. 

“I gotta stay fly. What are the batteries for?” He asked. 

Heat flooded through you, making the bookstore swelter even though air conditioning pumped out of the vents. You looked down at your folded arms and the batteries. 

“Remotes. You know, you can’t have too many backups. Those damn things are constantly going out,” you lied again. 

Stunna smirked and stepped forward. He towered over the short shelves. “What’s it really for?” He asked. He said your name and it sounded like both a plea and a demand all wrapped into one. 

“For something I don’t wanna tell you about,” you said. Your cheeks were burning and your stomach did somersaults. It would win the Olympic gold medal four events in a row if it could. 

“Why not?” He asked. He sounded so patient. So demanding. So in control that you couldn’t help the tiny sigh escaping. 

“It’s crossing our line,” you said. 

“Tell me anyway,” he said.

You couldn’t look at him as you finally said, “My vibrator ran out of juice while I was fucking myself with it,” you said. 

The heat of his gaze made your body flush. “You’ve been using a vibrator? For how long?” He asked.

Dangerous, dangerous territory. But you were tired of fighting. Of being good. “Since about the third class,” you said. 

He leaned back, running a free hand down his face. “You really thought a vibrator could replace me?” He asked.

“No! That’s why the fucking batteries are shot to hell. I’ve been using it so damn much, I could be a spokeswoman for it,” you furiously whispered. 

His eye traveled lower to your skirt and the way that you stood with your legs practically crossed. His eyes continued to move and you were starting to get nervous. What was he seeing? What was he putting together in his head? 

“Did you finish?” He asked.

“Stunna…” You warned. You already crossed so many boundaries. You were in public. You were discussing this shit in public, as if you were ready to throw your degree down the tube. Ready to throw his career down the drain before he had a chance to get started. 

“Did you finish?” He repeated, a lot slower and a lot lower. It wrecked havoc on your lower body. 

“No,” you answered. 

“Office. Meet me there in five minutes,” he said. 

He brushed past you before you could say anything else. Before you could list the ways in which this was a terrible idea. Your mind helpfully offered all the ways in which this could go wrong. You stood there for a beat too long, staring at the batteries in your hands. 

If there was a chance for the real thing…no, no, no, one of you had to be an adult about this. Had to stick firmly to your side of the line and not cross it. But you were tired. Weary. Fighting a mental battle every day as well as a physical one. You needed him. You just plain wanted him.

You still bought the batteries because you weren’t that fucking stupid.

You rushed over to his office, pretending like everything was fine. You were not on the way to do something incredibly dumb and immature. But fuck you needed him inside of you. You needed his hands on your ass. Spread open over his desk, chair, couch, or the floor. Wherever. 

You were absolutely an addict for Stunna. You could admit it now that you were on the way to do this. You didn’t know why people continued to lie and say, “It just happened”. No. There was always room for doubt. For second guessing. A moment where you had to stop and use your brain. 

You were using your brain. It was just telling you to, “Ride that dick”! In the English building, you took the elevator to the admin floor where teachers had their offices. It seemed empty, most of the offices open with the lights off. 

You still drifted until you found his office. He was seated behind his desk, looking pensive. You could leave. He didn’t have to know you were here. It was a momentary lapse. Nothing more. 

Before you could back away, Stunna looked up and caught you in the doorway. He stood up, pulling you inside. He checked the hallway before closing the door and locking it. 

“Stunna, you know we can’t…especially not in here,” you said. You widened your eyes. Tried to give voice to all the reasons you couldn’t do this. 

He didn’t respond. He just crossed the room, grabbed your face, and crashed your lips together. 

“I just want to help,” he said. He went back to kissing you, to providing you with the much needed oxygen you had been missing for the past month. 

You moaned into the kiss, dropped your keys, wallet, and batteries on his desk and then hugged him to you. You couldn’t stop your hands from roaming, searching, seeking, and re-learning his body all over again. What made him sigh, what made him hiss, what turned him on. 

You bit his lip and he gasped, moaning. His tongue played with yours. Your teeth scraped together. You never felt more complete, more whole, than standing here in his arms once more.

The month disappeared in your eyes. You were transported back to that night in his hotel room. Like no time had passed at all. You were back in his apartment, two bodies meeting each other over and over again. 

His hands went down to your skirt, but he didn’t push. He toyed with your naked ass, squeezing the globes, and fingers skirting closer and closer to the middle. You shook violently in his arms, dripping with arousal already. 

You’d have thought some ancient beast possessed you and made you a vessel of horniness. You just wanted to be filled up. Connected. 

Stunna pushed you until your butt hit the desk. You sat down and spread your legs. He spread you even further. He kissed down your neck. “You gotta be quiet,” he whispered.

Yeah, right. He kissed down your neck before dropping to his knees. He flipped your skirt up and looked his fill at your glistening pussy. He gave you a nasty wink before he dived in, licking the seam of your pussy lips before finding your clit.

You arched and gasped on his desk. One of his hands came up around your throat, trapping any sound you would make. He used his other hand to drape your leg over his shoulder, opening you up to where he could get all of you.

He suckled on your clit like a starving man. Slurped and licked every inch of your pussy. He dipped his long tongue into you, shallowly fucking you. You gripped the edge of the desk, immediately feeling like you were going to burst out of your skin.

It only took a few more licks for you to burst completely, cumming on his tongue. You made tinny, airless cries and he had to apply pressure to your throat to keep you from screaming out like you wanted. 

You shook and twitched on his desk and he continued eating you out like he wasn’t finished. On the heels of the first, you were plunging right back into a second orgasm. Or maybe this was a delayed continuation of the first. Whichever it was, you were out of breath by the time it ended.

Stunna stood up, wiping his mouth and using his tongue to get the rest off of his lips. He kissed your forehead, leaving a wet spot there that you never wanted to clean. You melted, sighing into him, wrapping your arms around his waist.

“Fuck, I needed that,” you said. So much better than your vibrator. 

“I needed it, too. I’m sorry I crossed our line, but that skirt…hearing you been taking care of yourself…” He bit his lip and you wanted to know what the hell he was thinking. 

“I’m pretty sure you’ve been taking care of yourself. I seem to recall some filthy words about a shower?” You asked.

“The shower, the bed, the kitchen, the table. There’s a lot of surfaces in my apartment,” he said. 

That only thrilled you. That he had been getting himself off to thoughts of you. “Not the same, huh?” You asked.

“Not at fucking all,” he said with a grin. 

“Well…you don’t have anyone coming for office hours?” You asked. You were already here. Already crossed that line. You might as well go for gold. 

“Nope,” he said, a wicked smile crossing his face. Perfect man with his perfect teeth. “We should behave though. These walls are thin as hell.”

“I can be quiet if you can,” you said. You hopped off the front of his desk. You grabbed his hand and led him around it to his side. You pushed him into his chair. He lifted one eyebrow at you, a smirk hovering on his lips. 

“What you got in mind?” He asked. 

You kissed him instead while you freed his dick from his pants. He helped you push them down enough so it wouldn’t interfere. You turned around, wiggling your ass a bit. You looked at him over your shoulder and the look he gave you….rooted you to the spot. 

You were both so deeply in love with each other. You just knew, from the crinkle in his eyes, that you were it for him. And he was it for you. 

You scooted into his lap, legs on the outside of his. You lifted up, grabbed his thick dick, and then slowly slid yourself down on it. You shared a quiet groan as he slid into place, slid right back home where he belonged.

It wasn’t the best angle for riding, but if you rode him cowgirl, you’d have to stare that love in the face. You acknowledged it, but it was still scary as hell. You used the desk to lift your ass and sit back down on his dick. 

Stunna grabbed your waist, helping you along. He cursed softly as he moved you a little faster. You meant to be the one doing most of the work, feeling only slightly guilty that you relied so heavily on his powerful legs to stroke into you. 

But he showed no signs that he was on that same wavelength. He only kissed the back of your neck, softly moaning in your ear. Wretched little sounds that drove your pleasure higher. 

Your mind sunk into a fuzzy comfort as you quickly rode him. “Perfect, fucking perfect. You’re perfect,” he stuttered in your ear.

Your pussy gripped onto him, sucking in the sheer massive size of him. He was thick, for sure, But he was thick everywhere. From the tip to the base, he had a consistent hardness that felt like you were really getting piped down. 

You bobbed on his dick as much as you were able to, both chasing an incredible high. You just needed…a little…

Stunna’s fingers moved forward, gathering up slick, and then played with your clit. His rough fingers flicked that little bundle of nerves until you were shaking and crying. He used his other hand to cover your mouth.

You tried, you really did try to stifle your moans. It was not easy. Not when every part of you wanted to let out a scream to rock the foundation of the building. You wanted to scream for everyone to hear that you were in the throes of a powerful orgasm.

Stunna cursed and then he was joining you, flooding your pussy with his cum. You would never get over the sensation of his hot, pulsing cum shooting out of him. You shivered, pussy clenching around him like it wanted to keep it all inside.

Stunna dropped kisses to your cheek and the back of your neck. “How the hell did we make it a month without this?” He whispered. 

“How the hell are we going to make it another?” You asked.

You fell into temptation. You finally made love to him again and fuck. Your fantasies were severely lacking. You needed to ramp them up. You had to build that wall back up between you. 

“You saying this becomes a monthly thing? Congrats on a month without sex, here’s some head,” he said.

You laughed softly. “I mean…” You weren’t opposed to the idea. You could hide one encounter. You could keep this off campus, at his place, like a dirty secret in the night. At this point, you had no self-respect. Not when it came to Stunna.

“No, no. We have to be good. This was…”

“Perfect,” he said. You giggled while he nibbled on your ear. Fuck, you missed him. Missed being in his arms, filled up by him. 

You wiggled your ass. “Quit playin’,” he said, injecting a level of dangerous warning in his tone. 

You wiggled your ass again. You were playing with fire, but hell, the heat never bothered you anyway.

You turned to look at him and give him a saucy wink when a knock sounded on his door. You froze.

Your heart rate jumped to a thousand beats per second, fingers glued to his thigh. Your stomach turned watery, fear unlike you’d ever felt thrumming through your veins. This was it. The moment you got caught.

You’d look back at this moment as The Moment. The Moment when your life came crashing down. You were literally caught with your teacher’s dick inside you. There was no way this wouldn’t be in the news cycle this very evening. 

You could picture the jokes. Getting Extra Credit. Oh, is that what the kids were calling it these days? A little Hot for Teacher.

Stunna’s hands went back to your waist, squeezing slightly. You looked back at him. His eyes were wide but he looked calmer than you did. He lifted a finger to his lips and you nodded. 

The knock sounded again, and then again before the silhouette in front of his door went away. Neither of you said a word for five minutes straight. 

Stunna was the first to blow a breath. “I think we’re okay,” he said.

You scrambled off of him, removing his softened dick, and then went around the desk. You needed a physical barrier between you at the moment. 

“I’m sorry–” You lifted a hand, cutting him off.

“I’m not mad, I-I’m really fucking scared,” you said.

“I know, I’d never put you through this…”

“I’m scared for you, you idiot. If they catch us, you could kiss working here goodbye. You just fucking got here,” you said. Unfortunately, there were no panties to indignantly pull up. 

You were still a bit wet with his cum dripping out. But now you were full of dread and worst case scenarios. 

“Me? Whoa, whoa, don’t worry about me,” Stunna said. 

“How could I not? I–” It was on the tip of your tongue to tell him you loved him, but you weren’t ready for that. Wasn’t sure when you would be. It was scary to love him after a short period, to look at him and know that he was your soulmate. You knew he felt similarly, but soulmate? Would that freak him out? 

Stunna stood up, stuffing his dick back in his pants. He fixed himself and came around the desk, invading your personal space. 

“I’m the one that dragged you here. I’m in the wrong. And if this were to get out, don’t you ever try to protect me,” he said.

“You get to protect me but I can’t protect you?” You asked. 

“No, that’s not the way this works. You protect yourself, always. I’ll protect you,” he said.

You laughed bitterly. “You’re so full of shit. You think I’m gonna stand there and let you take all the blame?” You asked.

“Yes, that’s exactly what you need to do,” he said.

You scoffed. You grabbed your things off of his desk. “Fuck you, Stunna. I’ll be damned if you fall on the sword for me. I’m an adult. I can make up my own mind,” you said. 

“Don’t you get it? I can’t live with myself if I fucked up your degree,” Stunna said. 

“And I can’t live with myself knowing I fucked off your job,” you said quickly. “This isn’t a game, Stunna. This is your life.”

“You are my life,” he whispered. 

You reared back as if he’d yelled at you. He stepped forward, cradling your head in his hands. 

“I know it’s sudden. I know it hasn’t been a lot of time. I know I’m probably scaring you. I just need you to be okay. I’ve been able to hold it together this past month because I know that in a few months, I’ll have my life back. But not if I jeopardize this for you,” he said. 

“Then how do you think I feel? How could you think that I don’t feel the exact same way?” You asked. 

Stunna kissed you softly, like you had all the time in the world to do so. You didn’t know how long he kissed you for, only that you felt loved and cherished the longer his lips were on yours. 

“We’re just two idiots in love then,” Stunna said. 

You smiled at him, all the wonderful, gooey feelings tangled in your gut. 

“Two idiots in love.”

Need more Stunna? The Secret Big Stunna Files

Part 1 | Part 2

[lily-fics-11]

The Girl Next Door: Chapter 6 (Hazel Callahan, Bottoms)

Fic master post here

Tag list: @avocifera, @academiareid, @fictionalgap @dynsdiary @sndixz @athenalive @lamoobsessions @eloud12

(feel free to comment to be added to taglist)

The Girl Next Door

You hadn't been close with your neighbor Hazel for years. But you find her beat up in the locker room after fight club and all of that changes

Chapter 6

Isabel and Brittany question you about Hazel. Your best friends can’t help but try and push you and Hazel together, and it seems to be getting to your head. It almost seems like Hazel is treating you like more than a friend?

Word count: 4.2k

CW: Profanities, not beta read

It’s Saturday night, at Brittany’s house, with her and Isabel. Brittany is painting your nails your favorite color when she notices the beaded bracelet on your wrist.

“H?” she questions. “Why the letter H?”

“Oh. The H. It’s for Hazel, actually,” you explain, avoiding eye contact and praying your face isn’t flushed.

“Are you guys like-” Isabel starts with clear excitement but you cut her off. “No, it's not like that. Like at all. Not even a little. We were always best friends, and now we are again.”

“Ok, fine, I guess. But we had no idea you two even knew each other until like a week ago. What happened between you guys because I’ve literally never seen you two interact with each other before now? Did you do something? Did she do something? Was it the both of you? Whatever happened had to have been bad, so why are things ok all of the sudden?” Isabel looks both confused and concerned. It makes sense why your best friend would be unsure of what to make of this confusing situation. You don’t even fully understand it yourself.

You take a deep breath before coming clean. “I’ve been in love with Hazel since middle school. But right when I realized I had feelings for her, she pushed me away, and I never knew why. I was in so much pain so I forced myself to move on. Make new friends, and eventually get into a relationship. But even though I had convinced myself otherwise, I’ve been in love with her the whole time. I found her bloody in the locker room after fight club one day and I couldn’t just leave her there like that. We ended up talking and reconnecting. I eventually confronted her, so she explained everything to me. I don’t want to share stories that aren’t mine to tell, but I will say that she just thought she was doing what was best for me. She apologized and I couldn’t help but forgive her. I know that Hazel never meant to hurt me, and I love her too much to pass up the opportunity to have her back in my life. All those years it felt like a piece of me was missing, and I finally had a chance to put things back together. I don’t have her the way that I want her, but it’s so much better than not having her at all.”

“Oh, wow.” Brittany takes a deep breath. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea you had been through all of that. But are you sure that this is worth it? Hazel is a sweetheart, and she would never do anything to hurt you on purpose, but are you going to be hurting yourself?” 

You run a hand through your hair and take a moment to think about it. This is kind of insane. You could potentially do some major damage to yourself. But there is nothing you want more than Hazel. “That’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

“Well if that’s the case I’m really happy for you. You guys would be so cute together.” Isabel claps enthusiastically.

You shake your head no at her. “Isabel, please, don’t get my hopes up like that. I have no reason to believe that she feels the same way about me. If anything I’ve got far more evidence for her not seeing me like that. I think she’s just happy to be friends again.”

“Hazel mentions you in the notes like all the time. Like way more than anyone else.” Brittany grins mischievously. You raise an eyebrow. “What do you mean?” 

“The notes she takes every meeting and emails to everyone. Do you not get them?” 

You wrinkle your nose and furrow your eyebrows. “I get them. I never noticed it. I'm sure you guys are exaggerating and didn’t even think about it until now.”

Brittany laughs. “We have been suspicious since the first time we saw you guys together. Do you not know what you look like when you look at her? Haven’t you seen the way that she looks at you?”

Isabel is quick to add “you guys started driving to school together even though you love your alone time, and remember that night you hung out at her house? You didn’t answer your phone for hours and that is so unlike you.”

Before you even get a chance to defend yourself Brittany throws at you what she believes to be some hard hitting evidence. “I have seen you guys fight each other. The sexual tension is so obvious. I have never seen two people pin each other to the ground so much. Especially not with that hungry look in their eyes.”

You are at a loss for words, so you close your eyes and flop backwards to lay down. Isabel pokes your leg. You don’t open your eyes but that doesn’t stop her from asking “were you there the day we were talking about celebrity crushes?”

“Nope.” You hear her giggle. “Well I didn’t make the connection until now, but you know that actress that everyone says you look like? That’s Hazel’s celebrity crush.”

You open your eyes and sit up, feeling defeated. “I’m sure it is just a coincidence.”

“You can believe what you want, but I’m still going to be shipping you guys so hard!” Isabel squeals.

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

Isabel and Brittany were not kidding when they said they would be rooting for you and Hazel. You appreciate their enthusiasm, but you would be mortified if Hazel noticed them giggling and watching you stand next to each other at the next fight club meeting. Isabel and Brittany’s eyes light up when you and Hazel are paired up for a fight. Your friend's stares were burning holes into the back of your head when you were on the ground straddling Hazel’s waist. This is only going to feed into their delusions. It seems useless at this point to hope they keep their eagerness in check.

It didn't take long for them to try and set you and Hazel up with each other, they took the first chance they got. You were unaware of their scheming until they approached you and Hazel at the end of fight club to see if you guys would want to get ice cream all together. “A little sweet treat before we all have to study for that math test tomorrow,” Isabel offers with a smile.

Brittany makes an excuse to take you with her in her car. “You forgot your shirt at my house, I need to give it back to you.” There was no shirt. Brittany just wanted to prepare you for what definitely isn’t a date, even though she seems to think it is. 

Brittany glances over at you while she is driving. “Do you want to fix your hair?” She asks.

You squint your eyes at her. “Uhh.. why?”

She playfully rolls her eyes. “Don’t you want to look nice for your date with Hazel?”

That makes you laugh. “Brittany, it’s not a date if she doesn’t know that it’s a date.”

“You know what I mean. I have a hair brush in the glove box. There’s also some lipstick in there if you want to use it.”

“I’m not going to try and impress a girl who doesn’t want to be impressed”

“But isn’t it worth trying?” Without answering you pull the brush and lipstick out of the glove box and flip down the mirror. 

Upon arrival, you and Brittany meet up with Hazel and Isabel before going inside. You enter first and approach the counter to order. After scanning your options you tell your friends “I can’t decide between cookies and cream and chocolate chip cookie dough.”

“Hey same!” Hazel smiles at you. 

“If neither of you can decide between them, why don’t you just get both and share?” Isabel teases. God Isabel, right in front of Hazel?

“Oh… I, uh…” you begin but Hazel cuts you off. “Sounds like a good idea, right?” she asks expectantly. You just nod and force a smile. As much as you have protested it, you would love for this to be a date. But it's not, and you need to keep your expectations in check. Once the ice cream Hazel had ordered for the two of you is ready, you pull out your wallet only for her to step in front of you and pay for the whole thing without even asking. You blush and look away, accidentally making eye contact with Brittany who mouths “date” to you. Your palm meets your forehead. You really are grateful that your friends are trying to help you out, but you are going to have to explain to them that getting your hopes up will only make things worse in the end. 

You intentionally sit next to Hazel, it will feel less romantic than being across from her. Not being able to stare longingly into her eyes is for the best. However, that didn’t keep you from questioning Hazel’s every move. Yes you were sharing food, but why did she sit so close to you? Seats nearly touching, practically shoulder to shoulder, knees brushing up against each other if moving more than an inch. Even worse, why did she put her arm around the back of your chair everytime she sat back to talk? Hazel talks a lot. If you weren't paying attention she would do it without you realizing and her arm would end up slung around your shoulders. You would sit there, absolutely mortified, while Isabel and Brittany failed to contain their excitement, though Hazel was none the wiser. You did your best to avoid looking over at her, that award winning smile and warm gaze far too easy to get lost in. 

About halfway through the bowls of ice cream Hazel excuses herself to the bathroom. 

Once Hazel is out of earshot Isabel slams her hands on the table and leans forwards. “Sooooooo…”

“So what?” You sigh. 

“Come on, you know what she means,” Brittany crosses her arms and grins.

You put your hands up in the air like you have been cornered by the police. “I can’t say that I know what you guys are talking about.”

“This date!” The two yell in unison. 

“Oh my god guys, could you please keep it down? I hate to break it to you, but if Hazel and I are on a date, then you two are on a date with each other. Just two best friends, eating some ice cream, that's all.”

“You are sharing ice cream!” Isabel exclaims, gesturing to the bowl in front of you. 

You run your hands through your hair. “Because you suggested it.”

Brittany points to Hazel’s chair. “You guys are sitting so close together.”

“Well we're sharing the ice cream.”

“She keeps putting her arm around you!” Brittany sounds exasperated. 

“You can’t ignore the way she looks at you!” Isabel pleads.

You put your hands down on the table in an attempt to further assert yourself. “If you keep getting my hopes up it's going to hurt even worse when she finally gets a girlfriend or in some other way makes it clear that she doesn't feel the same way.”

Brittany looks so disappointed. “We wouldn’t be trying to set you guys up if we didn't think there was something there.”

“I want this so bad,” slips out of your mouth as wild fantasies dance through your head. 

“Maybe it's time that you give this a chance,” Isabel timidly suggests. 

“I wouldn’t be opposed to it, but only if she took the lead,” you admit, nervously twisting your bracelet and averting your eyes. 

Isabel and Brittany’s eyes wander behind you, so with panicked eyes you sharply run your hand past your throat, signaling that this conversation is officially being cut off. 

Even though there is no way she could have known what had been discussed while she was gone, you are paranoid that Hazel somehow heard everything. You worry that the feelings left behind are written all over your face. Fortunately,  nothing goes wrong as you all finish eating.

After cleaning up you are the only one to sit back down at the table. The other girls look at you, confused. You tilt your head back and groan. “I do not want to go home and study for this test. It's going to be miserable.”

“Well how much have you studied so far?” Hazel questions.

“Not enough,” you sigh. Hazel steps towards you and takes your hand. You can’t even imagine how unfortunate the look on your face is right now. She pulls you up to your feet. “Just think,” she tries to encourage you,”by this time tomorrow it will be over, right?”

“Yeah, I guess you are right.” You concede, expecting her to let go of your hand at that point, but she doesn't. Hazel holds your hand all the way to the car, and doesn’t let go until she has opened up the passenger side door and you have made yourself comfortable.

You can hardly believe it, but maybe Isabel and Brittany are onto something? Like this is absolutely mind boggling and insane. Is this even possible, or a mere delusion? Furthermore, are you actually starting to get your hopes up? You are playing a dangerous game, but you reap what you sow.

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

Last night you studied like your life depended on it, and it was exhausting. In the morning you hit the snooze button as many times as you can without the risk of being late, sacrificing a part of your morning routine each time you slammed on the button to make the blaring noise stop. In the end you walked out the door without a stitch of makeup in the sweatpants and sweatshirt you wore to bed.

You meet Hazel in your driveway. When you unlock the car’s doors she gets in right away. You open the door but stop to groan and pout. “I really don’t want to do this,” you whine to Hazel and she smiles and shakes her head. “Oh neither do I.”

“Then why don’t we just skip? We could stay home and binge watch something,” you suggest, half serious and half not. 

Hazel sighs. “I literally couldn’t want anything more.” Your breath hitches. “But, we both studied so much that it would be a waste to miss the test. Not to mention that your mom would kill the both of us if she found out that we skipped school.” Hazel leans over the center console and reaches her hand towards you. You take it and let her pull you into the car. You are very aware of how you keep finding your hand in hers. Are you unhappy about this test? Obviously. Are you slightly exaggerating because it means Hazel might hold your hand? That’s not even a question. 

You hesitate to start the car, so Hazel gently places her hand on your thigh. She tilts her head to the side, carefully observing you with a dreamy look in her eyes. Her hand placement was more than enough to snap you out of your mood. But the way she was looking at you? That just might make you risk it all. You fight off the urge to lean over and steal a kiss from the girl you love. 

When you turn the key in the ignition you are expecting Hazel to pull away, so you are pleasantly surprised when she doesn’t. Previously, you would have shied away from moments like these, but Isabel and Brittany have really gotten inside of your head. 

“If you want you can come hang out at my place after school. We can watch an old movie.” Hazel proposes. 

You look over and meet her gaze and a smile spreads across your face. “I would love that.”

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

Hazel catches up with you on the way out of class after your test, putting her arm around your shoulders, causing a shock to your system. Though it’s a pleasant surprise, it isn’t easy to play it cool.

“So, how do you think you did?” Hazel smiles at you, looking at your… lips? You look down at your feet because you fear internal combustion, though still able to feel Hazel’s lingering gaze. 

You are so nervous that you stutter when you answer her question. “I-I um think I actually d-did well. How about you?”

“I’m going to be honest, I was a little distracted. I was thinking about, well, things. But I still think I managed to pull it off.” Despite her claims of having been distracted, she sounds rather excited and you can’t miss the opportunity to see that look on her face, so your eyes wander back up to meet hers. That cute goofy smile is more than enough to put all the stress from this test behind you. In all honesty, Hazel could erase just about anything from your mind. You know that your own expression must be mirroring hers. “Well I’m glad that you made it through okay.”

Hazel nods at you. “I’ve got to go but I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah of course.” 

Hazel pulls away from you, running her hand down your arm. The light graze of her fingertips momentarily lingers on your hand before finally drifting away and waving as she walks off. Hazel continues to look back at you until she stumbles into someone and has to turn her attention ahead of her.

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

When you get to Hazel’s house Mrs. Callahan is delighted to see you, and invites you to sit down with her. Hazel rolls her eyes and leans against the doorway with her arms crossed. You smirk as an image of what Hazel would look like doing THE lean crosses your mind. When you sit down next to Mrs. Callahan she slides a magazine over to you. 

“I want you to have this. You don’t have to look at it now, but there is a spread that starts on page 17, it’s from one of my favorite designers and every outfit would look absolutely amazing on you! Check it out when you get the chance and definitely keep this in mind the next time you want to do some shopping.” Mrs. Callahan is beaming at you. Hazel has always been a tomboy so she loved talking about fashion with you and would join you and your mom on shopping trips.

You thank her and then Hazel clears her throat, so you start to get up.

“Can I ask you a quick question?” Mrs. Callahan asks.

“Of course.”

She leans and whispers, just low enough for Hazel not to be able to hear, “you’ve put that ex girlfriend of yours behind you, correct?”

Your eyes widen, taken off guard by the personal question. “Oh yeah, she's no longer a part of my life,” you explain, doing your best to keep your voice down because it’s clear she wants this conversation to be private.

Mrs. Callahan looks satisfied and you can only assume that your mother had divulged the details of your tumultuous relationship. She continues with her hushed tone “you deserve much better than the way that girl treated you, honey. I don’t think you will have to look too far to find the right girl for you.” 

“We should head upstairs,” Hazel calls over impatiently. 

“I’m actually heading out now. I won’t be back until pretty late.” Mrs. Callahan informs you. Hazel grumbles a goodbye and you wave before she walks out the door.

“I’m going to put my stuff in my room, I’ll be right back,” she tells you before disappearing up the stairs.

After entering the living room a feeling of nostalgia washes over you. There are so many memories here of blanket forts, movie nights, and playing games. After leaving your things in the corner you sit down all the way to the side of the couch, right up against the arm rest. It’s not long before Hazel appears in front of you, “Do you know what you want to watch?” You suggest a movie and Hazel thinks it’s a great idea. 

She takes a seat in the center of the couch, as if to give you some space, while also testing the waters of trying to get close to you. You aren’t quite sure how you feel about this yet, but decide to live in the moment. While looking at the tv, out of the corner of your eye, you see that Hazel is watching you. She looks a little dazed, eyes soft, biting her lip. When you look over to her she quickly snaps her head towards the tv.

The movie is lighthearted but anytime you and Hazel look at each other the eye contact is intense. Whether you are laughing at a joke or reciting a quote in unison you kept getting caught up in the moment. The part of the movie you were reacting to would pass, but you would still be gazing into her beautiful eyes, and she would be staring right back. Then, the two of you would realize what you were doing and regain your composure. 

You start to feel cold so you get up to get the sweatshirt you have in your backpack. 

“Where are you going?” Hazel questions, and you peer over your shoulder at her. There is disappointment in her eyes, seeing you walk away.

“Just grabbing my sweatshirt,” you reassure her.

“Are you cold?” She asks, looking concerned, and you nod your head. 

“I’ve got a blanket right here, if you want to use that instead,” Hazel offers, gesturing to a blanket hanging over the back of the couch. 

“Uh, sure. Thanks.” You take your spot back on the couch and Hazel passes you the blanket. 

“I think I’m actually cold too, would you mind sharing?” She inquires, fixing her hair even though it looks fine. 

You blink rapidly, a little taken back. “No, not at all.”

“Is it ok if I, uh, sit a little closer? It would be easier to share,” Hazel asks, looking down and fidgeting with one of her rings. 

You nod your head at her once again, feeling nervously excited. Hazel slides over and when she said close she meant close, she left no space between the two of you. Shaky hands drape the blanket across your laps. You feel your heart pounding in every part of your body. Isabel and Brittany’s idealistic thinking has infected your brain. Should you make a move to see how she reacts or wait and see if she does? You decide to wait and see if she takes any initiative. You meant it when you said you wanted 

Hazel doesn’t leave you waiting for long. She rests her arm behind you, on the back of the couch, like she is inviting you into her. You obviously take the bait. There was no space to close between you but you lean your weight into her and rest your head on her shoulder. Hazel then wraps her arm around your waist, holding you against her. It all feels like a dream, breathing in her scent, feeling the warmth of her body next to yours. You are buzzing from the way her hand is firmly planted on your waist. Her voice is like a melody and her laugh is like a warm hug. You savor every moment with her.

After the movie is over, and you are getting ready to go, Hazel puts her hand on your arm. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but what did my mom whisper to you earlier?”

“Oh, she just asked about my ex.”

“She asked you about what?”

“My ex.”

“Sorry, I heard you the first time, I just can’t believe she would bring that up, I told her not to.” Hazel sighs.

“What do you mean that you told her not to? Have you been discussing my love life Hazel Callahan?” You laugh at her. You aren’t mad, just intrigued.

“Your mom had told my mom about your break up, so she came to me to try and get more information. She was really worried about whether or not you were ok. I told her that I wasn’t totally sure, because we hadn’t talked much about it. But she knows that I wanted us to be, uh, friends again, so she was very hopeful that you were in the right place for us to start a- I mean start over. My mom would bring you up from time to time over the years, hoping we would be friends again. When I explained to her that it was hard to tell whether or not you were also in, uh, the right place for that, she told me that we are meant to be, I guess friends, so the opportunity would present itself.”

You smile, feeling a flush across your face, knowing that Hazel has always intended to get you back in her life. 

“Well, I am doing ok. I know a lot has happened between us, but I have a feeling that things are going to work out the way they are supposed to.”

[pinkandpurple360]

New happy ending for the Full Moon episode! So Stol/tz ‘breakup’ happens, Blitzo goes back to his apartment, upset and worn out. He gets a text from Fizz asking how it went (since Fizz lent him the sex toys or whatever) and goes over to Fizz’s place to return whatever it was he borrowed and didn’t use.

Fizz notices he’s upset and they talk. Now Fizz is feeling less insecure about his own relationship with Ozzie he doesn’t project the whole ‘you just hate him for being rich’ thing onto Blitzo this time and instead he just. Listens. He realizes in like a microsecond that Stolas is nothing like Ozzie - Ozzie cares about his comfort and his consent. Stolas cared about using Blitzo to get off, then blamed him for feeling used once he decided he wanted something real. He’s horrified and gives Blitzo a much needed hug, apologizing for making Blitzo feel like he was going crazy thinking something was wrong between him and Stolas.

Blitzo chuckles and says something else that makes Fizz’s blood run cold: Stolas is the noble Buckzo sold him to that day all those years ago and ever since it's been like he can't escape him. If only he hadn't gotten caught stealing that book... But Fizz doesn’t have much time to compute that before Blitzo follows up with: ‘but you’ve always been my real childhood friend. The whole time I just wished I was playing with you. I always wished I was with you.’ They both realize Blitzo has just said ‘I love you’ without saying it and Blitzo gets up to try to leave, panicked

For a second Fizz just watches him and Blitzo thinks he’s lost him for good & is juuuust about to start tearing up when Fizz's mechanical arm winds around Blitzo’s hand, stopping him.

Fizz tells him ‘you know… I bet Ozzie and I can make room for one more’. Blitzo turns back, now openly crying. Fizz pulls him in for another hug

Cut to Blitzo snuggled up between the two of them in the big love heart bed, post 'breakup' ice cream bowl in hand as the two of them just let him eat ice cream, cry and spill his guts about how awful the whole arrangement was until he’s feeling safer and happier

/end scene

Fuck that hits heavy

Imagine the character growth of fizz not being such a pushover for royals, Blitzø being the one to really get him to that point because of what happened with Mammon. Blitzø apologises for implying Ozzie was treating fizz some kind of way. But he still knew fizz was off. Saying things defensively in a way he never used to, defending abusive people out of his own insecurity, his denial that mammon was abusing him because sometimes you just want someone to be better than they are.

Blitzø shows him bruising on his scarred side where stolas likes to yank at his face whenever he got angry or got mad at Blitzø for being “too mouthy” or doing something uncouth. Which was often. Fizz says mammon always did that too, but always mixed it with compliments and nice sounding words. Causing confusion. Exactly like stolas calling Blitzø ‘darling’ before glaring at him with those terrifying, manic, glowing red eyes, so full of disdain.

They both promise not to call each other ‘fizzy’ or ‘Blitzy’ , so happy to not have to ‘perform’ monthly or annually in bed or on stage for nasty royal demons whims. It’s finally over.

Asmodeus actually is the jealous type. Very jealous. A third would have to be someone really special, who he trusts. And he really does trust. When he sees them curled up together though, he doesn’t feel mad, he sees fizz in a calmer state than he’s ever been, this Blitzø is someone Ozzie has always known was important to fizz. He never shuts up about him. Now he knows their love for each other is even older than his own and he respects that. They’re both just so darn cute. And they’re both so happy he helped them reunite. With the three of them together that big bed doesn’t feel so big anymore, and it’s twice as warm as it used to be ❤️💚💙

[hergrandplan]

Wille's Month 2024 Day 4 ( @youngroyals-events) : Revolution

In cleaning up their home, Simon and Wille find something from their past.

Read below the cut or on ao3 (warning: tooth-rotting fluff. You may want to call your dentist)(1.4k, T)

Their living room is filled with half-empty boxes. Soft pop music plays in the background as they work through the piles of stuff they gathered, both softly humming along, sometimes singing. Sometimes, they chuck something in them without asking the other for a second opinion. Other times, Simon holds something up to get Wille’s approval to throw it out – or (less often) vice versa, when they’re not sure if it should go or not.

In packing for their trip to visit Simon’s family they realized they had a lot of stuff. Like, a lot.

Though their suitcases are barely packed, they decided that now, a few days before their trip, was the perfect time to start decluttering their home (they have a few days left anyways). It turns out two people can accumulate a lot of stuff in five years of living together.

The do realize quickly that Wille is the culprit of why they have so much – Simon has long ago learned to live with the fact that his boyfriend likes to keep everything, like the receipt from the first time they went to the movies together).

It’s a slow but steady process. They have a rhythm, they crack jokes and laugh. They remember too. Now and then they find something that makes them drop everything, letting another 10 or 15 minutes slip by as they flip through another photo album, or they find a notebook from their high school years.

It doesn’t matter that they’re going slow though. They’re happy to reminisce. `

“Oh my god,” Simon suddenly exclaims loudly.

Wille looks up from an old book he’s found to see him holding up a cassette tape.

He thinks he recognizes it instantly, but he still asks to be sure, “is that…?”

Simon nods, giggling almost. “I think so.”

They scramble to find cassette player – another thing they maybe should have got rid of earlier, but now Wille’s all the more glad that they still have it. Maybe, an hour from now when Simon insists on throwing something out Wille wants to keep, he’ll use this as leverage. You never know when we might need it.

Simon puts the cassette in the player. It’s old, it crackles a bit, which is unsurprising. It was already old when Wille gave it to him for his birthday, years ago.

Most people would have made a Spotify playlist, but Wille finds there’s something more romantic about giving an actual physical copy. And so, for his boyfriend’s 17th birthday, he’d given him a mix tape, filled with songs that reminded him of him, but most importantly of them. Of Wille and Simon.

The first song plays – Aaliyah, “At Your Best (You Are Love)”, smooth R&B filling their messy living room, the notes falling and landing and staying in between the boxes.

Wille, filled with the need to take in every little detail of Simon’s being, turns to look at Simon only to find that Simon is already giving all of his attention to him. His gaze so full of love it’s almost overwhelming. Wille doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to it, the way Simon just looks at him. Giving Wille his full attention, his utter devotion.

Then again, he looks at Simon, the exact same way. Even after all these years.

Wille is no longer afraid he’s going to lose any of this, he refuses for that to ever happen, not again, but he still savors every single moment with him, his beautiful boy. He looks and touches and feels, he knows the map of Simon’s body even better than the back of his own hand. The phantom memory of Simon is always at his fingertips when they’re apart, always quick to get back home as soon as possible.

And once again, Wille is filled with the need to take in every little detail of Simon’s being, with the need to never take his eyes off of Simon again.

Wille stands up, offers his hand out to Simon, who takes it without hesitation.

Wille pulls him to his feet, slowly, eyes never leaving Simon’s face. He sees the same question that’s been spinning around his mind reflected in Simon’s eyes – how did they ever get this lucky?

He places his hands on Simon’s hips, pulling him just a bit closer. Simon wraps his arms around Wille’s shoulders and gazes up at him, so lovingly, and Wille stares right back. This, he realizes with a flash, is it. This is the man he’s going to marry.

As Aaliyah sings that there’s no need for make-believe (and Wille, in this moment couldn’t agree more), Simon decides that they are not close enough. He pulls himself closer to Wille, burying his face in the crook of his neck, nosing at the soft skin there. Wille hums, moves his arms up, finds a home for them on Simon’s back, holding him tight.

Their dance turns into a shuffle, both men too tangled in each other to be able to move any more. There, between the boxes and the suitcases and all the evidence of a lifetime spent together, the promise of many more years to come, they hold each other.

The song finishes, the music softly fading away. Wille tilts Simon’s chin up, stares into those dark eyes that he will never get enough of. His heart so full of love that he can’t do anything but catch his lips with his, to feel his body flush against him, ever part touching and connecting, souls intertwined. Right now, he’s sure that their hearts even beat in the same rhythm.

There’s a moment of rest in between songs, as the cassette rolls until it lands on the next one. Wille has forgotten what songs he put on there – it’s been, after all, 10 years since he’s made it.

Then the tape hits the next song. A soft piano sounds. Wille feels Simon go still in his arms, as he too tries to figure out what song is playing. Then, all of a sudden, it’s Simon’s voice that fills up their living room. But the sound doesn’t come from the man standing in his arms – it’s coming from the cassette player.

They look at each other for one, long second as realization sinks in. Then, they break out into a fit of giggles, Simon burying his head again in the crook of Wille’s neck.

The song that’s playing is one very near and dear to Wille’s heart – after all, it’s literally named after him. Well, Simon actually never gave it a name, but he’d titled the file Wille. ‘Wille’s song’ is as close to a title as it gets.

Neither of them has heard this song in years – there was a time when Wille played it to death. When he first received it, and he thought this was the final piece of Simon he’d ever get, the only way he would be able to hear his voice.

Simon’s shoulders shake with laughter as the first chorus start, and Wille only pulls him tighter against him.

“I still can’t believe you put this on there,” Simon groans into his shoulder, his voice muffled. Wille’s sure that if he were to look at him now, he’d see Simon’s cheeks burning in embarrassment.

“I think it’s sweet,” Wille says, barely able to contain his laughter, which only makes Simon groan more.

“It’s so cringe.”

“You were sixteen, of course it’s cringe.” Wille brushes a soft hand through Simon’s curls. “And it convinced me to abdicate so…”

Simon finally looks up at him, indeed with cheeks flushing, but he’s grinning too.

��I guess I did spark a little revolution, huh?”

“At least in my heart.”

Wille leans down to press his forehead against Simon’s. His lips find Simon’s again, soft and warm and right. He smiles with Simon’s lips still on his. Simon moves his hands up to the nape of Wille’s neck, fingers buried in the soft hairs there.

Then Wille says the words he’s said a million times already, words he never tires of saying. That he never tires of hearing either. Because no matter how many times he says them, he never feels like it’s enough to convey what he feels for Simon.

“I love you,” he says softly in the space between them. They stay there, linger there, as Simon’s eyes open to gaze at him.

“I love you too,” he whispers back, and pulls him into another kiss.

[materassassino]

For the prompt ask: hoodie for Joe/Nicky 😉

This one got a bit long, actually... It works though.

One word prompts!

---

Somewhere in the Altai Mountains, 1402

They are travelling east again, weary of the never-ending woes of the Mediterranean and Europe, and because Quynh wants to eat what she calls ‘proper food’ again – there is only so much Nicolò can do with imported spices that have lost their potency from travel (when they can afford them). Why they chose this accursed northern route instead of some sensible ship from Jeddah Yusuf will never understand, but Andromache mistrusts the sea in general, and Quynh will go where she goes, which means Yusuf and Nicolò have little choice. She also wants to show them Karakorum, which they have yet to see.

Winter is not close, but there is a chill on the air, especially now evening is falling and the shadows lengthen. Andromache scouts them a place she deems worthy for camp that night (though she is rarely very discerning, and Yusuf would swear she could sleep on a bed of gravel with no complaint), and they settle. Yusuf joins Quynh to fetch water, Andromache tends to the horses and Nicolò starts their fire and starts to prepare their food. It is a well-worn, familiar routine, each night in the wilderness the same as the one before.

Quynh is busy telling him about the time Andromache got herself in a spot of bother with some Gauls in Armorica when they get back to camp, and Yusuf is trying very hard not to trip over he chokes on his own laughter. Andromache scowls, and if the light were better, Yusuf would wager he saw the slightest embarrassed flush on her stoic cheeks.

“Not that one again,” she grumbles, removing her horse’s saddle and blanket. Quynh grins, something sharp-fanged and delightfully wicked.

“You just hate it because it ends with you in a pig sty!” she says. Yusuf wheezes helplessly.

That is when Nicolò sneezes.

Yusuf stops laughing immediately, sets down their filled waterskins and puts his hands on his hips.

“I told you to wear your cloak!” he grumbles. Nicolò has the cheek to roll his eyes, even as he wipes his nose on the back of his hand.

“I am fine,” he retorts, turning back to the fire. He sneezes again.

“God give me strength,” Yusuf mutters, raises his eyes to the heavens and waving his hands beseechingly. He stomps over to their pile of saddlebags and begins rummaging, but he soon stops.

“Nicolò,” he asks, “where is your cloak?”

They all see the way Nicolò’s shoulders tense, creeping up guiltily by his ears.

“Come to think of it,” Quynh says, pursing her lips, “I have not seen it since the village we passed through two days ago.”

Yusuf levels Nicolò with a long glare. “Nico?”

Nicolò rubs the back of his neck. “I think… I think I forgot it. At the inn.”

Andromache guffaws. Yusuf groans. Nicolò is usually so meticulous, but in fairness they had beaten a rather hasty retreat after Andromache got into a fight with a merchant over the treatment of his horses, so it is entirely likely it was simply lost in the whirlwind madness.

“We might not see another settlement until Karakorum itself,” Andromache says, drumming her fingers on her knee. “And it will only get colder the further up we go.”

Yusuf sighs, getting to his feet and fumbling with the clasp of his own cloak. He throws it over Nicolò’s shoulders and sits heavily beside him.

“Do not be stupid, Yusuf,” Nicolò says, shrugging the cloak off. “You need it!”

Yusuf waves him away, dismissive. That causes Nicolò to scowl.

“Well, if neither of you wants it…” says Quynh edging around the fire with a sly look.

“Leave it!” the two men snap in unison, and she darts back, hands raised defensively even as she laughs.

“Share it, you idiots,” Andromache snaps, shaking her head. “We’ll turn one of the spare blankets into a new cloak tomorrow.”

Yusuf and Nicolò both look at her, and then at each other.

“That… seems wise,” Nicolò concedes, and Yusuf muffles a snort of laughter.

They end the evening beneath the same cloak, huddled close together. There is, Yusuf muses archly, little difference with the night before.

--

Geneva, August 2022

The clouds roll in from almost nowhere, spilling down from the mountains. They don’t herald rain, but they cover the sun and an uncharacteristic chill shrouds the city. They’ve been scouting out potential new safehouses – it’s good to add to the rotation, and it’s time Nile got a few under any of her various shiny new aliases. The prices are eye-watering, but there’s always something to be found somewhere, especially further outside the city.

There’s a slight bite to the air now, just enough to cause some goosebumps. Nile tugs on the cardigan she’d draped over her shoulders that morning, covering her bare arms. Andy does absolutely nothing, because she refuses to let the whims of Mother Nature bother her overmuch. Nicky untie the hoodie from around his waist – unfashionable, as always – and zips it up, sticking his hands in its pockets.

Joe sneezes.

Nicky looks at him, in his optimistic breezy linen shirt and shorts, and raises his eyebrows. He doesn’t even need to say anything as Joe scowls at him.

“It was sunny until a moment ago!” he protests the unspoken accusation.

“Yeah, but the weather lady said it would get cloudy!” Nile pipes up, withering slightly under Joe’s glare.

“Should’ve paid more attention,” is all Andy says with a flippant smirk.

Joe simply folds his arms petulantly and stomps on ahead, attempting to brave the sudden chill. He doesn’t last long before he’s rubbing his arms, and the walk back to the hotel is thirty minutes.

Nicky sighs, and unzips his hoodie again. He drapes it over Joe’s shoulders, completely ignoring Joe’s pout.

“I don’t need it!” he says, about to shrug it off and hand it back like a stubborn fool. Nicky levels him with another long, hard look, and Joe meekly puts it on properly. He allows Nicky to adjust it fastidiously and zip it up, his resigned façade cracking entirely when Nicky plants the most fleeting of kisses on the tip of his nose.

“Oh my God,” Nile says. “That’s so adorable it’s disgusting.”

[scekrex]

Hey first time requesting a prompt but maybe a Sinner!Adam x Incubus!Reader story? Maybe he hired reader to try to explore his sexuality and ends up liking his vibe so they hang out outside of sex and either of them end up catching feelings maybe?

Okay so I assume you wanted fluff, what you get though is hurt, frustration and an open ending lol I got carried away so if ya want fluff instead just lemme know and I can make that happen

I love it - you son of a bitch

pairing: Adam x male!reader

warnings: language, hurt - no comfort

note: not beta read bc fuck you I don't have beta readers

When Adam had first paid for your services he had never expected for the night to end with cuddles. But there he was, laying in his own messy sheets that stank of sweat and cum and you were curled up against his chest, taking deep, long and steady breaths as you slept.

He had never been the guy to cuddle - that was not entirely true though. Back in Eden when it had been just him and Lilith there had also been cuddles. He had hugged the woman, had held her head close to his heart to let her listen to the steady beat of it pumping blood through his body for her and only her. But that had been long ago and after the blonde babe had cheated on him with God’s favorite and had left him because she had chosen hell over life with him, he had never let a person get close enough to hurt him like that again. No angel he had fucked in heaven had ever wanted to stay the night, neither had he ever spent the night at his hookups’ places.

But now that he was trapped in hell, surrounded by sinners he saw no point in following and obeying heaven’s rules anymore, not when Lucifer’s kingdom granted him free will. He had thought that a stranger would do well to experiment with his sexual interests. The first man had always found men attractive in the way he found women attractive, he had just never acted on it. Back in the early days in Eden, back when Lucifer had paid him visits because the king of hell had felt pity for the human - Adam had been so alone after all, back then he had told the former angel how majestic he had thought the blonde looked.

You mumbled something that the brunette was not able to understand as you inched closer to the taller male, seeking warmth. When his golden wings wrapped around you to keep you warm, Adam questioned not only his sexuality, he also questioned his emotions and their stability. Because why in God’s holy name was he allowing a sinner to touch his divine body so softly, almost lovingly? Why didn’t he kick you out when he had the chance to do so? For Christ’s sake, you had even offered to leave. Adam had basically invited you to stay the night. And deep down he knew that this would always remain the first but never the last meeting of you and him.

-

The brunette had invited you over quite a few times after your first hookup, he had always assured you that it was just because the sex was good. Yet ‘just sex’ meetings turned into you and him ordering take out, watching movies and cuddling again more often than they ended in sex. Adam knew he was getting attached and while you sent him signals that clearly showed you were honestly interested in him in the same way, the first man found himself quite scared of the new feelings that were slowly growing stronger.

Your routine that concluded Adam calling you to book your service, you coming over to his place late at night and you two doing whatever got crushed when you sent him a quick text in the middle of the day, asking the former angel if he was interested in grabbing a smoothie together and just go on a walk afterwards.

The brunette’s hands were shaking when he read those few words over and over again, not able to fully understand them, yet he responded ‘sure’ before he pocketed his phone and left his home to meet you outside.

“Sup, big bitch, didn’t think you’d actually fucking agree,” you greeted the first man with a confident smile on your lips as you leaned against the dirty wall of the building Adam lived in, the brunette only rolled his eyes at your comment as he tried to play it cool. “If someone’s anyone’s bitch here then you’re my fucking bitch,” he countered, you did not let that slide though. The former angel headed into the direction of where the store you wanted to visit was, expecting you to simply catch up to him - and you did. “Yeah?” the shiteating grin on your face was telling Adam a lot, yet he did not address it, “‘s that why you moan my fucking name loud enough for your cunt neighbors to complain about all the fucked out noises you make?” Adam side-eyed you, he decided to remain silent though, anything he wanted to say would blow his cover, would force him out of the closet and into the pit.

His silence made the vibe change though, he noticed you getting a little more serious as you spoke up again, “Y’know that you don’t fucking need to pretend that you just like the motherfucking sex, right? Like bitch, I know I’m good, probably the best you’ll find down here, right after Angel Dust, but that fucking amazing that it causes you to casually wanna hang out with me? Sweetface, even my dick isn’t hellish enough to fucking do so.” That caused the taller brunette to stop in his tracks and look down at you. His usually neutral eyes were filled with so many emotions, too many for you to read any of them. His voice matched the look in his eyes though, he sounded desperate, hurt even, yet his voice also held anger and frustation, “The fuck do you wanna hear? That I caught feelings for a cheap slut? That I could’ve had the most fucking heavenly dick ever before those cunts left me? That I fucking hate that the most amazing person I’ve ever met is fucking dirty demon filth? Do you wanna fucking hear that?”

His words left you speechless, you weren’t sure how to respond at all, Adam felt like a ticking bomb and every word you might speak would get him closer to explode. So you just looked in his eyes and said, “I want you to cut your bullshit act and tell me the goddamn truth, Adam.” You had never said his name before, not when he had introduced himself, not when you had watched movies with him, your head in his lap.

Adam didn’t want the truth though, he was scared of the truth, he was scared of his feelings. He hated that he had developed feelings for unholy filth like you, he hated that you treated him with respect even though he was the most respectless piece of shit in all of hell, he hated that he loved you on so many levels. “The truth? The truth, motherfucker, is that you’re a fucking bitch but I still somehow ended up fucking falling for your slutty, bitchy self.”

[shiro-fanarts]

[vampirebiter]

ive been a dick about horror since childhood. i distinctly remember being a kid watching the nightmare on elm street movies and being like "wow these arent scary at all and i dont really like them" even when i had basically no point of comparison besides reading goosebumps and scary stories to tell in the dark. i did still watch all 8 of them though.

[schnaf]

.

[icewindandboringhorror]

Various images from the past year or so... posting my evil little photo diary collections once again..

[designernishiki]

status update on my mission to 100% and platinum yakuza 0: completion list is at 99.2% and would’ve been finished today if not for pool (carom/combo shots- i made enough money from it though) and batting. my most significant peaks today were probably beating both so and jo amon on the first try miraculously and at one point i got like 34 points in expert koikoi

[majesticmagics]

gender is a game of snakes and ladders and buddy i'm right back at square one

[48787]

So, as it turns out, my capacity for tyranny is actually fuckin huge and I'm really fucking good at it

I have so many more things to put in my book now

Peace Through Tyranny will be real circa 2048 and it'll still be sued by fucking Hasbro