#flutter video player

[flutter4u]

Flick Video Player for Flutter

Flick Video Player is a video player for flutter. The video_player plugin gives low level access for the video playback. Flick Player wraps video_player under the hood and provides base architecture for developers to create their own set of UI and functionalities. Features Double tap to seek video. On video tap play/pause, mute/unmute, or perform any action on video. Auto hide…

[desturns]

──── favorite position. m.s.

warnings. none :) just fluff and a curse here and there . not proofread! <3

part two

୨ৎ

“are you fuckin’ goin’ through the early stages of cataracts or somethin— like what is the problem here?”

feeling a slight vibration against your chest and hearing the hushed sounds of matt trash talk his brothers through the headset as they all played fortnite together, the pure irritation in his tone as chris just couldn't land his shots, was enough to make your eyes slowly flutter open.

you had come over earlier to just hang out with the boys after they were done filming a car video. after going out to eat and coming back, the four of you decided to play a couple of rounds of fortnite together. you weren't the best player ever by any standards, rarely playing games by yourself whenever you had little downtime to spare, but you found yourself where you'd always find yourself when you were willing to play with them; on matt's lap in his desk chair.

it wasn't weird or anything. it was easier for the both of you since he always allowed you to use split-screen, something neither chris and nick were willing to do since they complained it ‘made it difficult to aim’, and if you sat anywhere else you definitely wouldn't be able to see anything. you never sat on him inappropriately, either; you'd always pick a leg and sit sideways on him, curling into a little ball against his chest since that was the most comfortable.

not that matt cared if you were on one thigh or practically straddling him. he didn't mind one bit. in fact, matt lived for the moments when you'd agree to play fortnite with him and his brothers because then he knew he'd get you in his favorite way. with him. curled up against his chest with an arm wrapped around your waist, practically enclosing you into his embrace as both hands gripped his controller.

you guys were friends, sure, and maybe friends shouldn't like the feeling of their friends on their laps. but matt relished in the feeling and he'd be lying if he said he felt guilty.

shortly after three rounds of the game, he felt your body get slightly heavier, heard your breathing even out where your head was resting under his chin, your grip on the controller practically nonexistent as it felt onto his lap. you'd fallen asleep and matt just didn't have the heart to wake you up. how could he? you were in his favorite position against him, at your most vulnerable, your most trusting. this was an opportunity far too good to pass up.

unfortunately, matt got very competitive when it came to playing more than two hours worth of fortnite. like right now.

chris wasn't landing his shots, nick kept fucking with the build tool, and he was trying to win against two other players who seemed to have been playing fortnite since its release date. all of his sudden jerks and tensing up whenever he'd die or lose combined with his hushed criticism eventually lead to now.

you waking up with your face pressed against the crook of his neck, close enough where you can hear chris respond back to matt in an equally annoyed tone.

matt felt a feather-light touch on his skin, your eyelashes brushing up against his neck as you started to open your eyes, and tensed up as his own eyes went a little wide. shit, fuck she's waking up, was all he thought as he gently pulled back enough to look down at you.

“shh, it's okay, you can go back to sleep,” he murmured softly once catching sight of your eyes in a squint, his hand reaching up to mute his mic as his focus was no longer on winning.

he could hear chris in his ears immediately start bitching once he dies, calling him a hypocrite, but he ignored it.

“n-no, i’m—” you pause so you could let out the small yawn that you were apparently holding up before letting your eyes close briefly, rubbing them so you'd wake up. “—shit, sorry, i didn't mean to knock out on you.” you'd never accidentally fallen asleep on him before, never slept around him really unless it was a thirty minute nap on their couch and he was sitting close by. for all you know, he was hiding his annoyance from you so you wouldn't feel bad.

“eh, it's fine. i don't mind being a human body pillow,” he shrugged his shoulders and softly smiled, his eyes taking in your freshly awakened features. the way your lip pouted slightly, the way your eyes were still droopy… there were so many things he wanted to say to you at that moment, yet couldn't.

you softly yawned once more and started to shift so you could get off his lap and at least go to the couch, but then you realized his arm was still around your waist, still holding his controller, essentially trapping you in his embrace still. before you could ask him to let you go, he spoke up first.

“hey—stay with me, will you?”

he wanted you to stay with him? like this?

“are you sure…? i mean, i know i’m not exactly the lightest person ever—”

“don't start that bullshit. just go back to sleep, yeah? i’ll try to keep it quiet so you won't wake up... again.”

you had to admit, you were still pretty tired and being held like this by matt was sort of… comforting, in a way. you weren't much of a cuddler but there was something there that made you nod your head to his wishes and rest back against him, burying your head right under his chin into his chest where you could hear him exhale like he was waiting for you to say no.

a small smile found its way on matt's face and he unmuted his mic once more, making sure to keep his volume close to a mumble so he wouldn't disturb you.

and so you went back to sleep. and matt continued to enjoy you just how he liked you.

-----------

desspeaks! sigh i'm a sucker for a good lil fluff moment, what can i say? slowly figuring out my aesthetic yall this is so much fun why didn't anybody tell me tumblr was this much fun anyways until next time

[kinichval]

cw: cockwarming, blowjob, penetration, implied exhibitionism, implied breeding.

pro-valorant player!kinich loves having you sit prettily on his cock while he plays video games with his friends. you're just there, head nuzzled in his neck, arms falling from his shoulders to his back, and pussy warmly wrapped around his dick.

it's so hard not to bounce on it when you can't keep think of anything else but to have his attention, you feel like dying at every second that pass without movement.

kinich is way too occupied with fighting for victory, he's not a loud gamer, but when he drops a few curses here and there—it's sultry and deep, fuck, it makes your pussy flutter and soak his dick with more of your fluids.

each click of his keyboard when his fingers press certain keys burn into your ear drums as if any more of those sounds will send you off the edge and start grinding. sometimes you loathe those noises because why aren't his fingers plunging in you instead? but no—you must resist the urges.

maybe the thick air of heat and undying need to be fucked makes time slower than it actually is, but lucky for you, kinich won't let you wait any longer because when he sees 'victory' on his screen, he relishes on his reward and allows you to finally (and happily) bounce on his cock.

or sometimes pro-valorant player!kinich would love to have you sucking on his cock under his gaming desk while he's fighting for his life (and rank) on a ranked game.

this was a fantasy come true, you were way too shy in admitting this one, but thankfully kinich is just as enticed with the idea as you. the next thing you know, the underside of his desk is cleared up only for you claim residency in.

the pleasure from your mouth is like a wave through his body. his fast paced fingers were slightly offbeat when all that dominates in his mind is how good you feel around him, how pliant and submissive you are as you suck him off; now, it wouldn't be a nice trade if you give him the best head of his life, but he loses this round, no?

he could read the complaints from his teammates that his gameplay is amiss, they don't know if kinich is slacking off or the opponents are actually stronger. but he doesn't care—maybe a little bit, his goal is to reach radiant—when his pretty girl is bobbing her head on his dick and glancing up to him with your pretty doe eyes, it's your way of supporting him as you were not into gaming as much as he does.

the tension in his lower body competes with his beating heart. adrenaline rushes through his veins for two reasons: one more win and victory is theirs, and fuck, he's close to cumming.

and goodness gracious was it a scene out of a movie when 'victory' comes up on his screen as he cums inside the warm cavern of your throat. fuck, that was the best head of his life.

however, when 'defeat' is flashed on his screen right at the last win needed for him to finally get out of immortal, pro-valorant player!kinich wastes no time in putting you in between him and his computer set up. your hands on his desk, shirt bunched up, bottoms down on your ankles, and he's seeking for the comfort of your pussy. but damn, his thrusts are hard and mean, a reflection of his frustration from that bitter loss.

your whines and moans get louder as he hits your sweet spot over and over again. his mic may or may not be still on, but that's the least of your worries right now.

"fuck, can i come inside?"

[yanadolls]

KISSIN' AND HOPE THEY CAUGHT US!

||| FEATURING: NAGI SEISHIRO X FEM READER (IMPLIED RELATIONSHIP)

||| 18+, MDNI ── .✦ risky sex, unprotected sex, praising, petnames, messy sex, groping, slight choking, fluff to smut

||| SUMMARY: nagi met you at the beginning of bluelock. now, he's on a team with barou and isagi, and you come to visit his room while the other two are out. secretly, nagi was yearning for you >.<

(btw this is an older version of bluelock- i was trying to aim for like 20 yr old players so ig it's an adult program now? sorry if that's confusing i just loveee the concept of the facility so i wanted to use it 'n the second selection was so silly<3)

ᯓ☆

nagi was playing on his phone, enjoying the couple hours of silence he was finally getting. no more arguing with barou..for now, at least. his mind was blank as he got headshot after headshot in his game, growing tired by the second. just as he was about to take a nap, it was then that he heard the doors open, but to his surprise it wasn't his current teammates returning.

instead, it was you, his lovely girlfriend.

he met you about 5 months back through reo, and overtime the two of you had gotten closer- so close, you even started dating. nagi had never been in a relationship before you, which was what made you even more special to him. at first, he thought relationships were a hassle, but you had proved him wrong and changed his perspective on love entirely. nagi sat up, shutting his phone off and placing it aside while you greeted him with that bright smile of yours that seemed to always make his day a bit better- no matter how shitty it could've been.

"hey babe! isagi told me you were in here, so i thought i would visit you. how's it going?"

"s'going alright."

nagi shrugged lazily as he watched you climb up onto his top bunk, sitting in front of him. even if his nonchalant expression stayed, he was secretly happy to see you. even after dating for a while now, you still made him feel strange. when you were close, his heart raced. when you kissed him, he had the urge to pull you closer and never let go. when you smiled, it made him want to smile back- something he hardly ever did.

nagi had never had a crush in his entire 20 years of living prior to you, so he was shocked when he got feelings for you so quickly. you were just so cute to him, how could he not? not to mention, your affection was too irresistible.

"..are you doing alright? with your new team, 'n stuff. they aren't causing you problems, right?"

you were honestly pretty flattered he asked, since he wasn't really the type to check up on people. you just had the special pass since he liked you so much.

"aww! sei, you're actually asking? how sweet!" you gushed, pressing a kiss to his cheek before replying. "things are decent. i just wish i was on a team with you still, but y'know? maybe it's for the best. i get to see different play styles this way. and no, they're actually pretty respectful."

"mmh, true. glad you aren't having any trouble."

nagi laid back again, but scooted over more so you could crawl beside him. nagi adored your clinginess, smiling just a tiny bit when you instantly attached yourself to him. he let you lean against him as he started playing his game again, trying to ignore your addicting scent filling his nostrils, messing with his senses. he enjoyed having you at his side, gently wrapping an arm around your shoulders to pull you closer before placing his hand on his device again.

"to your left, baby. i saw a guy running into the building."

"hm? oh, you're right.. die."

HEADSHOT!

"nice shot! you're so talented, you know that? it's not fair you get to be good at both soccer and video games!"

your praise made his stomach flutter in slight nervousness, but it didn't show on his face. he kept a relaxed and lazy manner as he felt his attention drifting from his game, and more to you.

nagi couldn't help himself. the feeling of your chest against his and your breathing against his neck was starting to really get to him. he shifted awkwardly as he felt a throb in his pants, a sigh escaping his lips. he felt as if he couldn't avoid this situation anymore- he wanted you. nagi wasn't one to get aroused so easily before meeting you, but once again- you had changed that part of him, raising his sex drive. what a hassle..

without even thinking, his hand snaked from your shoulders to the bottom of your tank top, slipping under feeling your bare skin as he trailed his fingers higher.

"uh- sei..?"

your cheeks flushed as one of his hands was still on his phone, but the other was gently groping your breast. it wasn't the first time he had done something like this, of course you both had gotten intimate before, but you weren't expecting him to do it at bluelock. nagi didn't even have a conscious of what he was either doing until you spoke, breaking his focus.

"huh? oh, sorry.. just wanna fuck you now."

"what?!"

his abrupt confession had you shocked- like..shook. nagi just had to be so blunt all the time, huh? your boyfriend's words went straight to your core as his hand rested on your boob, like it was a normal thing to do and not lewd at all. nagi put his phone down, redirecting all his attention to you as he stared into your dolly eyes, slowly tilting his head to the side with a frown.

"what, is it really that shocking? you're my girlfriend and i find you attractive."

"w-well i mean, you just said it so randomly! and.."

nagi interrupted you, "you aren't bothered, right? do you want me to fuck you?"

"..no, i'm not bothered.. and i mean, i wouldn't be against it but-"

nagi took that simple sentence as an okay to lean in and connect your lips with his, moving his hand to the back of your head as his other groped your breast more roughly. you reciprocated almost immediately despite your better will, letting him touch you in whatever way he pleased. nagi had always loved your tits, whether he was sleeping on them for his naps or sucking and biting on them during sex.

he was so lazy, so unmotivated, and yet- you were still utterly charmed by him.

nagi suddenly separated as the kiss was just getting more passionate, your hand tugging at his sweatpants. you couldn't help but pout at the loss of feeling, but nagi found it adorable.

"why did you stop?"

"come. wanna do this on barou's bed."

his words perplexed you. barou's bed? you figured it was for comfortability since the top bunk bed wasn't the most ideal place to fuck, but you were very wrong. the two of you climbed down the ladder as he spoke.

"he's being annoying, you know?" nagi started, gently pushing you onto the single bed and getting on top of you. "always going on about how everything needs to be clean and neat. pissing me off so badly- not to mention he stole this bed from me.."

even in this situation, nagi pouted childishly. he had such an immature reason for swapping beds, but honestly? you couldn't give less a fuck, pulling your tank top over your head and tossing it hastily on the floor. nagi took it into his own hands to strip off your shorts, taking care of his own clothing next.

"gonna make that fraud king regret it. besides, it's a win-win situation since i get to fuck my cute girlfriend during my revenge.."

nagi pressed his lips against yours, hands travelling all over your smaller body as a very obvious heavy bulge was in his boxers. you made out with him, all teeth and tongue clashing together as you tugged at his hair with whines leaving your lips. soon, he pulled away from your mouth, a string of saliva connecting your tongues together as he pushed your panties aside and tugged his boxers down to his legs, lazily kicking them off.

"sei.." you gasped as he rubbed his dick between your folds, the muscular man shuddering at the friction. you were so wet for him already, and he had hardly touched you yet; it boosted his ego more, knowing he could get you so needy without trying that hard.

"mh.. y'so cute."

he grunted as he pushed his fat tip inside you, slowly beginning to stretch you out so deliciously. the familiar mix of pain and pleasure was overwhelming still even after all this time as he filled you up inch by inch, eyes locked on your expressions at all times. nagi felt so connected with you, in more than one way. when he thought back to how he was gonna spend his evening, fucking his girlfriend was not on the list. however, some changes can be hassle free he learned.

nagi was huge- both in length and width. he was was long and thick, and the feeling of his veins rubbing against your gummy walls as he pushed deeper had you breathless. even after having sex with him more than once, you never seemed to get used to how big his dick was.

soon enough, nagi was pounding into your tight hole, holding you down against barou's bed as he shamelessly fucked you in his teammate's group room. it was risky, you both could easily be caught at any moment especially since isagi and barou were already gone for two and a half hours prior to your arrival, so their training and bathing would surely be done any time now. did the lazy man care, though? absolutely not.

"haaah.. s-seiii, feels so good! you're so big..!"

you cried, nails digging into his back as he slammed in and out of you at a pace totally unlike his lazy self. you just happened to bring out new sides of him, one that learned to love and one that become passionate with you. he was determined to make you feel good, determined to make you cum.

"shh, baby.. someone could hear us from outside."

nagi's hand flew to your neck, lightly squeezing. it wasn't enough for you to lose air, but it still had you gasping and it added to the pleasure by a lot. your walls clenched around him, letting him know that what he was doing was affecting you in a way as your eyes rolled to the back of your skull from how good he was fucking you. his tip kissed your cervix with each thrust, and you just couldn't stay silent.

the sound of skin slapping and your breathless moaning filled the room, nagi's pace never faltering for even a second. he kept brutally pounding into you, heavy balls smacking against your ass with each slam.

"shit.." he groaned lowly, "so perfect. so happy you're mine.. you're such a good girl f'me, taking me so well."

a twisting feeling in your tummy indicated that you were getting close. your mind was foggy, the only thing you could consciously think about was how good his cock felt ramming into you relentlessly, and how his larger hand covered your entire neck, holding you down. it felt like way too good to stop, way too good to keep quiet.

so what if someone caught you two fucking? it was in nagi's private room, so it's not anyone's business what goes on inside.

"aah, mmhh! seishiro, i-i'm close! so, so close!"

his hand moved from your neck to your cheek, stroking it soothingly as he kissed your forehead. the lazy genius was so gentle with you, despite fucking you so hard at the same time. nagi was getting close too, dick throbbing inside you as a shaky moan escaped his lips.

"g..gonna cum inside, m'kay pretty girl? is that fine? you deserve to be filled up nicely."

"yes! o-oh please baby, need it so badly!"

it was all you had to say before his hips stuttered, cock burying deep inside you as ropes of hot cum filled up your womb while he groaned into your neck. your back arched off the bed as you came all over his length, a loud pornographic moan leaving your lips.

you both breathed heavily as you came down from your highs, looking into each other's eyes with flushed cheeks. nagi slowly pulled out, diverting his attention to the way both of your cum spilled out of your stretched hole, dripping onto the now messy bed.

great! not only was the blankets crinkled up and falling off the bed, one pillow even on the floor, but the sheets were covered in sweat and cum. it was perfect.

"so good, baby. love you so much."

"love you too, sei.."

nagi hummed at your reply as he changed back into his clothes, helping you do the same. he was happy, even if it didn't show. he missed you a lot considering how much time you both have been spending away from each other due to being on different teams, so it was nice to do this with you rather than just texting you from across the building. he gently patted your lower back before giving you a kiss on the head, ushering you out the room before isagi and barou could come back with the promise that you both would hang out and cuddle tomorrow.

then, he crawled back into his own bed, pulling out his phone and opening his game as if nothing happened.

the doors opened 10 minutes later, and in came in barou and isagi. instantly, the pair noticed the mess.

"..what the fuck?"

isagi blurted at the state of barou's bed, cringing at the sight of the cum only half dried on the bed- as if it were being proudly displayed. while his reaction was relatively tame, barou's was..

"WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO, NASTY HASSLE MAN?! I'LL KILL YOU!"

well, it looked like the self proclaimed king was about to murder him.

"dunno what you mean."

oh yeah, nagi would definitely being doing this with you again.

AN: AHH THIS WAS SO FUN TO WRITE i lovee nagi sm <3 i can imagine barou trying to force nagi to clean it up himself but he just doesn't listen kekw

[ch0llies]

EARNED IT | MATTHEW STURNIOLO. PT.3

read pt. 1 and pt. 2 here

brothersbestfriend!matt x innocent!reader

You're an 18-year-old high school senior, the innocent little sister of Matt's best friend. Which means off-limits in every way.But 22-year-old college hockey player, Matt can't ignore the way you cling to him, asking dangerous questions with trusting eyes. You don't understand the fire you're playing with- but Matt does. And he's burning to teach you what happens when you get too close.

story warnings: fingering in public, talk of religion, lowkey corruption kink (if u squint), brothers best friend, pet names (sweetheart, angel), age gap (four years), etc. all characters are of age. If any of these topics upset you...don't read!

word count: 5k

ib: @ariestrxsh's young god

The glow of morning sun filters through your sheer white curtains. You stir beneath the covers, your body still plagued with sleep, stretching slightly as your fingers blindly search for your phone on your nightstand.

Your screen lights up with unread notifications, but one in particular makes your stomach flip.

Matt.

You rub your eyes, still groggy, and slide on your glasses before clicking on his name. Your heart stutters when you see the unread message- an attachment.

A video.

Your brows furrow as your fingers hover over the screen. Matt never sends you videos. Hell, he rarely ever texts you.

You tap it.

And the moment the video starts playing, you freeze.

The dim glow of the bathroom light casts sharp shadows across Matt’s bare chest, his abs flexing, his head tilted back slightly as he breathes heavily.

Your breath catches.

You don’t understand what you’re watching at first.

His hand is wrapped around himself, moving in long, languid strokes. His muscles tense and flex with every movement, his lips parting slightly as a low, wrecked groan slips past them.

You swallow hard.

His pace picks up, his body shifting slightly, his grip tightening as his head tilts further back, exposing the sharp line of his throat. His abs tighten, his thighs tense, his chest heaving with every ragged breath.

“Fuck, Y/N-”

Your eyes widen, your stomach flipping so hard it makes you dizzy.

That was your name.

He moaned your name.

Your thighs press together instinctively, a warmth curling deep in your belly as the video continues.

You can’t look away.

Matt’s body jerks, his chest rising and falling rapidly, his groans deep, strained, desperate. And then he tenses completely, a sharp, shuddering breath leaving him as his muscles lock tight.

And then- release.

Your face burns, your entire body flushing hot as you watch the final moments. Watch as his hand slows, his stomach slick and messy, his breathing uneven, his body wrecked.

Your fingers tremble slightly as you clutch your phone, your breath short, shallow, confused.

Because you don’t know what you just watched.

But you know it made you feel something.

Something warm.

Something needy.

Your thighs squeeze together again as you stare at the screen, your lips parting slightly as your chest rises and falls unevenly.

Your heart pounds against your ribs as you stare at the screen, completely dazed, your breath coming in shallow, uneven bursts.

Matt had sent you this.

On purpose.

Your body is warm, restless, tingling with something, something you don’t quite understand.

You knew this feeling when you were around Matt and when he would touch you. But you’ve never felt it… by yourself.

Why did he send you that?

Your thighs press together again as your stomach flutters, heat pooling low, spreading through you like something dangerous. You can still hear him. Can still hear the way he moaned your name, the way his breath stuttered, the way his body shook before he-

Your face burns.

Your fingers tighten around your phone as your mind races.

You remember how he made you feel.

Your stomach twists, heat curling low, and before you can think, your free hand drifts lower, ghosting over the hem of your oversized shirt.

Your breath catches as you shift beneath the covers, slowly spreading your legs, mimicking how you had been sitting when Matt was between them the night before.

You don’t know what you’re doing.

But you try anyway.

Your fingers skim down your stomach, light, tentative, tracing the same path his had.

Your breathing hitches when you reach the waistband of your underwear, fingers slipping just beneath, barely brushing over the heat between your thighs.

A soft, startled gasp leaves your lips.

It’s warm.

Wet.

You pause, blinking up at the ceiling, your chest rising and falling in uneven bursts.

That’s what he said, right?

“When you get wet, my dick gets hard.”

You shudder.

Your fingers hesitate, hovering, remembering the way Matt had touched you, the way his nose pressed into you, teasing, flicking, rubbing-

Your stomach tightens as you try to mimic it, pressing the pads of your fingers against the same spot.

Your body jolts.

A soft, breathless whimper escapes before you can stop it, your legs twitching, your thighs clamping slightly before you force yourself to relax.

Your head tilts back against the pillow, your lips parting as you try it again. Slower this time, circling, teasing, just like Matt had.

The sensation is foreign, but intoxicating.

It’s not nearly the same- not as strong, not as overwhelming as when he did it- but it’s good enough.

Your breathing stutters, your body tense, restless, aching.

Your hips shift, pressing into your own touch, trying to chase that unfamiliar pleasure that still lingers from last night.

A soft, helpless moan spills from your lips.

Your entire body locks up.

You slap a hand over your mouth, your face burning, your heart pounding wildly.

Did you just-

Did you just moan?

By yourself?

Your legs press tightly together, heat surging through you as your chest rises and falls in quick, frantic breaths.

You don’t understand what’s happening to you.

But you know one thing for sure.

Matt was right.

It does feel even better than being on fire.

You’re still catching your breath, your body burning, heat thrumming low in your stomach when-

Knock, knock, knock.

Your entire body flinches, legs crossing together out of Instinct.

“Hey! We’re going to church and then out for breakfast before we leave tomorrow. Get dressed!” Your brother’s voice is muffled through the door.

Your eyes widen, panic shooting through you as you scramble to sit up, gripping your sheets with trembling fingers.

“O-okay!” you stammer, your voice too high, too breathless.

There’s a pause.

“…You good?”

Your face burns.

“Yeah!” you blurt, way too fast. “I-I’ll be down in a sec!”

Another pause.

“Alright… just hurry up.”

His footsteps fade down the hall, and you collapse back against your pillows, mortified.

What the hell just happened?

Your phone is still beside you, the screen dimmed but still open to Matt’s text- the video.

Your stomach twists, and you shut your phone off immediately, as if that’ll erase what you just did. As if it’ll make the ache between your thighs disappear.

It doesn’t.

You take a deep breath, willing yourself to calm down, swinging your legs over the edge of the bed. You take off your clothes and grab your new ones, slipping into the delicate white floral dress, the soft fabric brushing against your thighs, followed by a light blue knit cardigan that falls loosely around your shoulders. The combination is sweet and innocent and soft.

The opposite of what you had just been doing.

You slide on your usual thigh-high socks before grabbing your coat, bundling up for the cold. A few final touches- light makeup, soft curls in your hair, glasses perched on your nose- and you almost feel normal.

Almost.

You take another steadying breath before stepping out into the hallway and making your way downstairs.

The second you hit the last step, you freeze.

Matt is already there.

And he looks straight out of a magazine cover- navy sweater, loose-fitting light-wash jeans, white sneakers, his hair slightly messy but effortlessly perfect. He’s leaning against the kitchen counter, hands in his pockets, looking so casual, so smug, so completely unaware of what he’s doing to you.

Except you know he’s aware.

Because the second his eyes land on you his lips twitch.

His gaze flickers down your frame, slowly, taking in your soft outfit, the way your sweater hangs off your shoulders, the way you can’t even look him in the eye.

His smirk deepens.

You swallow hard, suddenly hyper-aware of everything. The way your body still tingles. The way your cheeks burn just from standing near him. The way your thighs press together on instinct, as if your body remembers everything he made you feel.

And Matt? He knows.

His smirk turns into something wicked, knowing, teasing.

“You get my text?”

Your entire body locks up. Your breath catches, and you snap your eyes up to his, your face burning, heat rushing straight to your cheeks.

“M-Matt,” you hiss, voice barely above a whisper, panicked.

He just grins, tilting his head slightly, leaning in a fraction closer and invading your space.

Your stomach flutters violently.

“What?” he murmurs, so smug, so amused. “Just making sure you saw it.”

You swear your heart is going to stop.

“I-” You fumble over your words, completely flustered, gripping your cardigan tightly in your fingers.

Matt leans in even closer, just enough that his breath brushes your ear.

“Did you enjoy it, angel?”

Your stomach drops. Your thighs press together even tighter, your body betraying you.

C’mon, let’s go!” your brother calls from the front door, already halfway out toward the car. “We’re gonna be late if you two don’t hurry up.”

You jump, your stomach still twisting from the way Matt’s eyes haven’t left you.

You chance one last glance at him, still leaning against the counter, still looking so smug, so entertained by your reaction, before you force yourself to move, tugging your coat around you as you step outside.

The cold air is sharp, stinging your cheeks as you make your way to the car. Your brother is already in the driver’s seat, and you barely register Matt sliding into the back before you’re climbing in as well, pulling the door shut behind you.

Your brother doesn’t seem to make a big deal out of it since his hockey bag was in the passenger seat.

“Dude, you know you could’ve moved it?” He turns back and asks Matt.

Matt simply shrugs and buckles his seatbelt. “Seemed like too much work. Plus I thought we were late.”

Your brother simply nods and turns back, starting the car.

The drive is quiet- at least, for you.

Your brother is rambling about something, half-paying attention to the road, while Matt sits next to you in the back seat, far too relaxed, his arm casually draped over the back of your seat.

You don’t even realize you’ve been fidgeting with your hands in your lap until Matt murmurs under his breath-

“You nervous, angel?”

Your entire body locks up.

Your head snaps toward him, your breath catching in your throat.

“I-” You shake your head quickly, too fast. “No!”

Matt just smirks, his eyes heavy-lidded, unreadable, like he’s playing a game you don’t even understand yet.

You swallow hard, facing forward, ignoring him, ignoring the way your thighs press together again, ignoring the way your body still buzzes from the memory of his video.

Once you arrive at Church, the three of you settle into one of the long wooden pews. The service was already starting, the soft hum of hymns filling the high-arched ceilings. You sit at the end, Matt next to you, your brother on his other side, flipping through the program without much interest.

At first, you try to focus.

You really do.

The preacher’s voice is steady, warm, talking about grace, patience…. temptation.

Your cheeks burn.

You shake the thought away, gripping the hem of your dress, keeping your legs crossed tightly as the choir starts singing.

About halfway through the sermon, your brother shifts in his seat.

You glance over. He’s asleep.

His head is tilted slightly, arms crossed, breathing deep and even.

Matt notices too.

And suddenly the air changes. You feel it before anything even happens.

A shift. A weight. A slow, creeping awareness that has nothing to do with the sermon and everything to do with the warm hand suddenly resting on your thigh.

Your breath stutters but Matt doesn’t look at you. His gaze is still forward, casual, collected, unaffected.

But his hand moves. Slow and oh so deliberate.

His fingers drag up, tracing small, teasing circles just above your knee, making your stomach flip, your skin tingle.

Your grip on your dress tightens. You don’t dare move.

Matt leans in slightly, his voice barely above a whisper, dangerously close to your ear.

“Did you watch it all?”

You turn your head, eyes wide, lips parted in silent shock.

He still doesn’t look at you. His fingers slide higher. Your thighs twitch, a small, helpless movement, but Matt notices.

His lips twitch.

“You did, didn’t you?” he murmurs, his thumb pressing slightly into the soft skin of your inner thigh, just beneath the hem of your dress.

You nod, too flustered to speak.

Matt hums, his voice low, teasing, knowing.

“Did you like it?”

Your face burns. Your fingers dig into the fabric of your dress, desperate for something to hold onto.

Matt’s fingers trace slow, lazy circles, inching up higher and higher.

Your thighs squeeze together, but it only traps his hand between them. Matt exhales a quiet chuckle.

“You’re always trying to hide from me, angel,” he murmurs, the edge of his knuckles brushing against the heat between your thighs. “Don’t you like the way I make you feel?”

You gasp, your breath shaky, your legs trembling.

Matt finally tilts his head toward you, his lips barely an inch from your ear.

“You’re so innocent,” he whispers, voice gravelly, low, sinful. “Did you even know what I was doing to myself in that video?”

Your breath shatters.

You don’t answer. You can’t. Your head shakes, your throat dry, tight, overwhelmed.

Matt chuckles again, his fingers teasing the hem of your dress, ghosting along the edge. “I figured.”

Matt’s fingers trace higher, the heat of his palm pressing against your inner thigh, sending sharp jolts of something warm through your body.

You can barely breathe, your chest rising and falling in short, uneven bursts.

Matt’s posture remains relaxed, unbothered, like he isn’t slowly pushing your boundaries, teasing you in the middle of church, with your brother sitting right beside him- completely unaware.

“So you liked it, didn’t you?” he murmurs, his fingers curling slightly against your skin, a slow drag upward. “You wouldn’t have watched the whole thing if you didn’t.”

Your thighs clench around his hand even tighter, a helpless attempt to control the warmth spreading through you.

A low, quiet chuckle escapes his lips, mocking, teasing.

“Dirty girl,” he whispers, his lips barely brushing the shell of your ear. “Letting me touch you like this-” His fingers drag higher, just under the hem of your dress. “-in church.”

Your entire body tenses, your face burning, your breathing shaky and uneven.

“Matty-”

Your voice comes out as a soft, breathless plea, barely audible.

Matt just smirks.

His fingers slide all the way up, brushing over the soft, bare skin of your hip-

And then he freezes.

You don’t understand at first.

His body goes completely still, his breath hitching, his grip tightening.

And then you realize.

His fingers meet nothing but skin.

No underwear.

Matt’s entire demeanor changes.

His smirk fades.

His breathing deepens and slows.

His fingers twitch against your skin, as if he’s restraining himself from doing something more. Something he’d regret.

A low, almost pained exhale slips from his lips, barely audible over the preacher’s voice.

“Fuck.”

It’s not loud.

But you hear it.

And the way his fingers tighten- how his thumb digs into your thigh, how his grip shakes just slightly- makes your stomach flip.

Matt leans in, his lips brushing just beneath your ear, his voice low, strained, wrecked.

“Angel,” he whispers, his breath heavy. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”

Your breath catches, your body locking up as Matt’s fingers still against your bare skin.

His grip is tight, his jaw clenched, his entire body tense beside you.

You feel hot all over, burning, heat flooding through you in ways that make your head spin.

“I- I…” Your voice stammers, weak, barely above a whisper. “I- I’m sorry, I didn’t- I didn’t have time- I was rushing, and I was- ”

You cut yourself off.

Your face burns, realization hitting you too late.

Your body betrays you, heat pooling between your thighs, dripping into the space where Matt’s fingers still rest.

His grip tightens, his breath slow, deliberate, dangerous.

His lips brush against the shell of your ear, his voice so low, so dark, so wrecked it makes your entire body shudder.

“You were what, angel?”

You can’t speak. You can’t move. You can only sit there, humiliated, mortified, so unbearably turned on you think you might die.

Matt leans in closer, closer, his nose brushing against your cheek, his lips barely grazing your skin.

“Tell me,” he whispers, mocking, teasing, his fingers dragging over your hip, pressing into your thigh.

“What were you doing… that made you get ready without any panties?”

You whimper, your legs shaking, your body betraying you again.

A slow, wicked chuckle rumbles from Matt’s chest, his fingers tightening, gripping, holding you in place as he feels the way you react to him.

Matt’s fingers stay still, his grip tight against your bare thigh, his breath slow and deliberate against your ear.

You feel trapped.

Not because you want to get away- because you don’t. Because you can’t. Because every teasing brush of his fingers against your skin sends a new wave of warmth flooding through you, pooling deep in your stomach, making it hard to breathe.

“You were what, sweetheart?”

His voice is low, dark, dripping with something dangerous.

You swallow, your throat dry, your body trembling beneath his touch.

“I- I was just- ”

Your breath shudders, your thoughts scatter, your hands gripping the hem of your dress tightly, twisting the fabric in your fists.

Matt’s lips twitch.

“That’s not an answer.”

His fingers move.

Just the slightest shift- his knuckles brushing higher, teasing the soft, sensitive skin of your inner thigh.

You whimper.

It’s quiet, barely audible over the preacher’s voice, but Matt hears it.

His grip tightens, his thumb pressing into your skin, his head tilting slightly as he watches you- studying you, unraveling you.

“You were what?” he repeats, his voice rougher, more demanding now.

Your thighs clench together again instinctively and you let out a whimper as it traps his knuckles right against your slit.

Matt exhales a quiet, mocking chuckle.

“You’re making this too easy for me, angel.”

Your body jerks, your breath hitching sharply, your entire face burning.

“I- I was- ”

You squeeze your eyes shut, your heart pounding, pounding, pounding.

But Matt won’t let up.

His thumb drags slow, lazy circles against your thigh, and his other hand- the one not ruining you beneath your dress- grips your chin, forcing you to face him.

Your eyes flutter open, and Matt’s gaze is already waiting for you.

“Say it.”

Your lips part, but no sound comes out, your chest rising and falling rapidly, your pulse hammering in your throat.

Matt’s fingers press into your thigh, gripping firmly.

His voice drops lower, almost a whisper.

“Tell me what you were doing.”

Your entire body is trembling, the heat between your legs growing unbearable, your skin burning under his touch.

And when his fingers shift just a little higher, his knuckles grazing so, so close-

It breaks you.

“I- I was watching your video and trying to… touch myself.”

The confession spills from your lips in a shaky breath, your entire body going still the second you say it.

Matt does too.

For a moment, he just stares at you, his jaw tight, tense, his chest rising and falling in slow, measured breaths.

Then, his lips part slightly, and he smirks.

“Good girl.”

And then his fingers move again.

You watch him carefully, your breath shaky, your fingers still gripping the hem of your dress like it’s the only thing grounding you.

Matt exhales a quiet chuckle, his other hand still gripping your chin, tilting your face toward him, his thumb brushing softly over your cheek.

“You’re so tense, angel,” he muses, his fingers skimming the soft, warm skin between your thighs.

Your breath shudders, your entire body on fire, heat pooling low, twisting into something thicker, heavier.

His thumb teases the hem of your dress, dragging the fabric up just slightly- just enough to make you gasp, your body trembling beneath his touch.

He leans in, his breath warm against your ear, his voice low, dripping with amusement.

“Are you shaking, sweetheart?”

You are. And he knows it.

Your thighs twitch, your body helplessly reacting to every slow, torturous movement.

His fingers finally, finally meet the heat between your legs, just barely, the lightest brush-

You suck in a breath, your hands gripping his wrist instinctively, unsure if you’re trying to stop him or pull him closer.

Matt hums, his lips tilting into a smirk.

His fingers press, just the slightest amount of pressure, just enough to make your stomach tighten, your breath hitch, your body betray you.

A soft, mocking laugh.

“You’re already so wet for me, angel.”

Your face burns, humiliation and something deeper, needier curling in your stomach, spreading everywhere.

Matt’s fingers press more firmly against the heat between your thighs, his touch still light, still teasing, but undeniably there.

His hand is warm, his fingertips tracing slow, lazy circles, barely touching, barely giving you anything- but just enough to make your thighs tremble, your breath shudder against the still air of the church.

His other hand stays firm on your chin, keeping your face tilted toward him, forcing you to feel every shift of his breath against your skin.

His movements are painfully slow, his fingers pressing against the soft skin at the apex of your thighs, feeling the warmth seeping through.

His breath stutters.

His fingers shift.

A slow, testing drag.

His hand moves again, his fingers spreading, cupping, pressing the warmth of his palm flush against you.

His lips brush the curve of your jaw, his voice low, gravelly, wrecked.

“You make me crazy,” he murmurs, his thumb stroking the inside of your thigh.

His fingers flex, pressing a little harder, feeling the heat there, feeling how much you need him.

His breathing shudders, his chest rising and falling in measured, controlled movements- but his fingers are anything but controlled.

Another slow, torturous drag.

His thumb presses down, tracing a slow circle through the warmth, feeling the way your body reacts to him, melts into him, gives into him.

He chuckles, deep, quiet, mocking.

“You like this, don’t you? Touching you in front of everyone?”

His hand stays, fingers taunting, teasing, his other hand finally leaving your chin, moving to rest on your thigh, spreading you wider.

His mouth hovers just over your ear, his breath heavy, his voice darker now, heavier, raw.

“Tell me how much you like it, angel.”

Matt’s fingers never stop moving.

His thumb circles and presses and teases your clit. His other hand holding you firmly in place, keeping your thighs from snapping shut around his wrist.

Your body betrays you, hips tilting forward, chasing the friction, desperate for more.

His lips curl into a smirk, his thumb pressing down just right, rubbing slow, taunting circles against that one spot that makes your thighs tremble.

“You’re so sensitive, angel,” he murmurs, his voice low, teasing, his breath hot against your skin.

Your breath stutters, your fingers gripping the hem of your dress, your knuckles turning white as you try and hold back sound.

Matt watches you closely, his lips brushing your jaw, his fingers picking up the pace, pressing just a little firmer, a little faster.

Your body tenses, warmth coiling, tightening, a pressure building so quickly it makes your breath catch, shudder.

Matt chuckles, his grip tightening.

“You gonna cum for me, sweetheart?” he murmurs, his fingers never stopping.

Your thighs shake, your breath hiccups, your body arching slightly, the heat curling tighter, tighter-

Matt leans in, his voice rough, knowing, taunting.

“Let go, angel,” he whispers. “I know you want to.”

He presses down just right.

The pressure snaps.

Your body shatters, warmth crashing over you all at once, waves of heat and pleasure rolling through you, your thighs trembling, shaking, squeezing around his wrist as your breath catches, breaks, shudders.

Matt doesn’t move away.

He stays right there, his fingers easing you through it, his breath steady, controlled, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as a satisfied smirk pulls at his mouth.

“There you go,” he murmurs, his thumb stroking one last slow, teasing circle before finally pulling away.

His fingers slide back to your thigh, squeezing gently.

His lips press a soft, slow kiss against your cheek.

Matt pulls his hand away, his smug smirk growing as he watches your chest rise and fall in uneven bursts.

His eyes drop to your dress.

And his smirk vanishes.

His pupils darken, his jaw tightening as he takes in the mess.

The fabric is damp, sticking slightly to your thighs, the evidence of what he just did to you clear, visible, undeniable.

His fingers twitch, his entire demeanor shifting as something darker, something possessive, flickers behind his gaze.

A deep, low groan. “Fuck, angel.”

Your face burns.

Your hands fly to your lap, trying to cover it, trying to hide the humiliating proof of your pleasure, but Matt doesn’t let you.

He catches your wrist easily, effortlessly, his grip firm but gentle, his thumb stroking the inside of your wrist.

Your breath stutters.

Your legs press together instinctively, your whole body burning, humiliated, mortified.

“Matt- ” you whisper, your voice barely audible, shaky, wrecked.

He hums, pleased, amused.

Then, before you can protest, he guides your hand down, pressing your palm firmly over the thick, hard evidence straining against the denim of his jeans.

Your fingers twitch, feeling the heat, the thickness, the length, the way he’s pulsing under your touch.

Matt groans again, low, raspy, wrecked. “This is what you do to me, sweetheart.”

His fingers flex over yours, pressing your palm more firmly against him, letting you feel everything.

Your stomach flips violently all over again, your thighs clenching, your fingers trembling.

Matt smirks, tilting his head, watching you unravel.

“Made such a mess of yourself,” he murmurs, his voice mocking, taunting, dripping with amusement. “Right here in church.”

Your face burns hotter, your fingers twitching in his grasp.

Matt leans in, his lips brushing softly against your temple, the contrast between his filthy words and his gentle touch making your stomach turn inside out.

“Such a dirty, dirty girl,” he whispers, his voice low, thick, knowing. “Letting me touch you like this, letting yourself fall apart for me like that.”

His thumb strokes your wrist, his voice turning softer, more dangerous. “And you loved every second of it, didn’t you?”

Your lips part, trembling, lost, breathless. Matt just smirks against your skin, kissing your temple again- slower this time, softer.

His fingers squeeze over yours, still pressed against him, still feeling the proof of how much he wants you.

His breath is steady, controlled- but his body isn’t. He’s aching for more. But for now? He’s going to make sure you feel every second of what just happened.

Your chest tightens, your breath coming in short, shaky bursts as the reality of what just happened hits you all at once.

The mess in your dress, the evidence of everything Matt just did to you, is obvious, the fabric damp and clinging to your thighs, completely undeniable.

You have to stand up soon. Everyone will see.

You swallow hard, your fingers gripping Matt’s sleeve as your eyes sting, your vision blurring slightly.

Matt just watches you, his gaze dark, unreadable, amused.

Then, when he sees the way your lips tremble, the way your wide, doe eyes gloss over, the way a single tear slips down your cheek in quiet humiliation- He smiles.

Not to mock you.

But because he’s in pure disbelief over how innocent you are, how sweet you look even after everything he just did to you.

He exhales softly, shaking his head, still so incredibly turned on.

“Oh, sweetheart.”

His voice is softer now, soothing, teasing, but gentle.

He cups your jaw, his thumb wiping away the stray tear, his fingers lingering against your cheek.

“It’s okay,” he murmurs, voice low, warm, steady. “I’ll take care of you.”

Before you can say anything, Matt pulls back, slipping off his navy sweater, leaving him in just the button-down underneath.

He hands it to you, the fabric still warm from his body.

“Put this on.”

You hesitate for a second, still trembling, still overwhelmed, before you quickly slip it on, pulling it down over your dress.

It falls past your waist, completely covering the mess.

You exhale shakily, your fingers clutching the sleeves, the heavy fabric smelling like him, calming you just slightly.

Matt watches you closely, his gaze dark and pleased, his lips still twitching with amusement as the sermon finally ends.

He nudges your brother awake, grinning when he grunts and blinks groggily.

“Dude, service is over,” Matt says, leaning back, his voice casual, easy, like nothing just happened. Like he didn’t just have you crumbling beneath his fingertips only a couple feet away from him.

Your brother stretches, yawns, rubbing his face before standing up, completely unaware of everything.

You hesitate for just a second before following, your legs still weak, wobbly, unsteady.

Matt stays close, his hand hovering near your back, watching you with pure satisfaction as you walk ahead of him.

The moment you climb into the car, settling into the backseat with Matt, your brother turns in the driver’s seat, his eyes narrowing slightly.

“…Why the fuck are you wearing Matt’s sweater?”

Your stomach drops, heat flooding your face. Your fingers tighten around the fabric, pulling it closer as you struggle for an answer.

Matt just leans back in the seat, smirking, completely unbothered. “She was cold,” he says easily.

Your brother squints, clearly suspicious, but doesn’t say anything- until his gaze drops lower.

His brows furrow. His lips part slightly in confusion.

“…What the hell?”

You freeze. Your entire body locks up. Because he’s looking at your dress. The part of it that isn’t fully covered by Matt’s sweater. The part that still has a very visible, very obvious wet spot.

Your face burns red, panic rising in your throat, but before you can react-

Matt laughs, reaching out to shove your head playfully, pushing you against his shoulder in a way that makes it seem like nothing.

“She spilled water on herself,” he says easily, completely effortless in his lie. “You know how much of an airhead she can be.”

Then, grinning, he pulls at the edge of the sweater.

“And she was freezing.”

Your brother blinks, glancing at you, still confused.

You nod quickly, going along with it.

“Y-yeah,” you stammer, forcing a weak smile. “I just- spilled water. It’s fine.”

Your brother just shrugs, turning back to the wheel.

Matt smirks. And when your brother isn’t looking he leans in, his lips brushing your temple, his breath warm against your skin.

“Close one, huh?” he whispers, just for you to hear.

Your stomach flips violently.

Matt just grins.

After getting home, lunch is uneventful. Your brother talks about hockey, your dad chimes in occasionally, and Matt sits across from you, watching.

You can’t even look at him.

Every time your eyes flicker to his, his smirk deepens, his knee bumping against yours under the table.

So, the second you finish eating, you excuse yourself, practically rushing up to your room.

You slip out of your dress, peeling away the evidence of what happened in church, and quickly pull on something more casual, more safe- a soft white camisole, paired with tiny sleep shorts, delicate lace tracing the edges, still innocent, still sweet- but dangerous in a whole different way.

You sit on your bed, exhaling slowly, trying to breathe, process, forget-

A loud curse echoes from downstairs.

“FUCK!”

You jump, blinking, listening as your brother’s voice booms through the house.

“I broke my fucking stick,” he grumbles, his voice frustrated, stressed. “I need it for tomorrow. I meant to grab another at the banquet, but I forgot.”

You hear Matt’s voice next, casual, lazy, so unbothered compared to your brother’s stress.

“Damn,” Matt mutters.

Your brother groans. “The only store that sells the right ones is two hours away.”

A beat of silence.

“Dude,” your brother huffs. “That means I’m gonna be gone for like four hours.”

Matt whistles lowly, like he’s amused.

“Brutal.”

A pause.

“Matt, come with me,” your brother says suddenly.

Matt laughs under his breath. “Yeah, I’d go, man, but I’ve got homework due when we get back.”

“Dude,” your brother groans. “Come on.”

“I’m serious,” Matt chuckles, still casual, easy. “I really gotta finish it before tomorrow.”

“Fine,” your brother grumbles. “I’ll bring my dad. We’ll be back in like four, five hours.”

The front door slams shut.

Silence.

The air shifts.

Something changes.

You sit up slowly, your stomach twisting as you hear footsteps near your door.

Then,

A knock.

PART 4 OUT NOW!! CHECK MASTERLIST

for @mattsobvimyfav 💙

tags: @ilovejohnnieguilbertsblog @mattsturnii @starstrucktyrantinfluencer @watercolorskyy @strangecatpeach @katie1002 @1ovesiick @slut4christopherr @mattgirl4eva @mayalovesturn @chriss-slutt @sturniolohohoho @courta13 @izzylovesmatt @matthewsturnsgf @aaa-mi @bigbeefybitch @hopelesslydevotedsstuff @wastelandzella @yourmother29 @whore4-chrissturniolo @idefinitelyhateu @madisonnxtdoor22 @user1smvtysturniolo @briisturniolo @sturniololuvz @hesvoid34 @butterflytsblog @mommymomm @mattsbunnyxx @blushsturns @i8kth @annalisesturnioloxo @kenziesturniolo54 @ribread03 @sturnl0ve @grace-sturniolo12 @sophsturns @mattsturnfx @lilyloveschris @milo-the-dog @riggysworld @scrumptiouskoalabasement @tenaciousearthquakeperson @sturnlovematt22 @seros-girl @sofsturnz689 @sturniololuvz @eeyoresturnz (if u wanna be on the taglist, just comment)

[windser]

thinking more about streamerbf!kenma and how his subscribers have been pestering him about a q&a but kenma just hates the idea of just talking about himself. he’s fine having the sole attention on him while he’s playing games, used to idle chatter and occasional questions about his play style. but thirty minutes of what it’s like to be kenma ?

hard pass.

he complains about this to you one night, head tucked into your lap while you run your fingers through his scalp. he was approaching another significant subscriber milestone and his usual rewards aren’t cutting it. they just want to get to know you kenma, you try to reason. but all you get in return is a soft groan that could double as a whimper.

as a moderator, you know how his fans can get. social media in general when they unite under the same goal. no, this will hit a pinnacle if not handled carefully. part of you gets it. it took quite a bit of time for kenma to open up to your social agenda. from inquiring from his favorite type of bird to how he decides on what video game to play next, you spent what feels like years now getting to know your other half. now your boyfriend hardly even blinked while answering your-

at the thought, your lip purses in consideration.

days later, kenma only gives you a questioning grunt when you slide beside him during his stream. a few months ago, he’d purchased you a more comfortable chair to lounge in to share the same space as him. he rarely minded when you did, but usually you’d give him a heads up.

his chat is well trained enough at this point to know when you’re around.

user795: is that them? user23: hiiiiiiiii!! welcome user55: are they going to play today ?

you follow the messages with a hint of a smile, only giving a little wave in frame before turning to kenma. your boyfriend had removed the headphone closest to you, a small acknowledgment that always sent your heart a flutter.

off screen, you massage the top of his thigh which earns you a another quick glance and a slight slouch as he relaxes into your touch.

“ken, what was your first ever game you played ?”

now this gets you a longer look, one accompanied by a furrow brow and confusion. his lips move in a mumble but audible enough to hear however as he concedes without question, "mega man.”

from the corner of your eye, you see that chat reacting to his answer, some acknowledging it either familiarity and others new to it.

user124: ohhh i played that. good game man user775: i think my cousin played that but i’ve never seen it. can you still get that? user65: @user775 the og? you need backwards compatibility i think but yes user8895: i had a hard time beating that one. has kenma ever been beaten by a game?

still following the chat, you catch the question and propose it to kenma. with you here, he minds the chat a little less closely, only catching up when he breaks between missions.

“in middle school you played this one game for what felt like weeks, did you ever beat it?”

kenma shifts his leg under your touch, redirecting the circle of your thumb to a new spot. “tactics ogre? no, i kept getting stuck on the last boss. tetsuro asked to borrow it to try but he lost it.”

he’d obviously been miffed by the lost game but apparently not enough to repurchase it and probably complete it. that note didn’t seem to be lost to the chat.

user321: damn at least we know he’s human. even kenma gets stumped user642: to be fair that was a tough one. even the creator acknowledged that it was tough on players on release user533: i bet he could beat it now. that should be his next walkthrough.

“ah,” you bite your lips when kenma's gaze flickers briefly to the chat. “yeah, i might. i already have it in my library.”

grinning, you give him a light squeeze catching his eye in return before they went back to his game. you browse the slowly rolling in questions carefully, weeding through the more repetitive ones to find ones with more substance.

“did you ever play anything other than volleyball growing up?”

you wince when your boyfriend full on turns to face you. that might have been too specific of a question, something you so obviously knew and had no reason to ask without context. so all you could do was give him your best pleading gaze, hoping he’d play along and ask later.

it’s not until he huffs that you know you’ve won, his response coming right after if not with a bit of sass.

“i got nagged enough between you and tetsuro with just volleyball, that was more than enough.”

user863: looooool user3626: i can’t really imagine kodzuken playing anything else. like soccer, can you imagine? user6556: nah volleyball was fitting user3322: they’ve always been familiar but how long have you guys actually dated?

your mouth opens and close sky soundlessly on the taste of that one. you knew in general when kenma actually asked you out, just short of your second year in high school. back then, the two of you had been fumbling with your feelings for months. but you never really learned when those feelings actually seeded for him.

but that was a moment for off screen conversation. instead you ask

“our first date back in second year of high school, you took me to the arcade and i obliterated you in DDR, remember that?”

kenma fires back quickly,” after i claimed high score on every other one game.”

it's impossible not to grin as you remember that day. what had started as an awkward date forty minutes in had lasted an additional three hours as the both of you eased back into your normal routine.

user7: ughhhh to have a gaming s/o user6552: they’re so cute goals man user172: are they actually gamers ? user032: @user172 kenma plays some games with them on stream. they’re actually pretty good user4534: ohhh kodzuken never talks about his his favorite snacks, can you ask what those limited ones he always eats are?

that was an easy enough questions that got written off as your own ignorance. while you often did the grocery shopping, kenma placed most of his snack orders online. partly due to its limited availability and other reasons pertaining to it being out of country. kenma responds easily in turn.

user333: wait, is this the q&a we've been asking? user405: omg i have soo many questions saved!!!! i didnt realize it was today user7532: i thought kodzuken didn't want to do this? user89305: @user7532 well he's answering questions like he is

you frown as the chat explodes with activity, some questioning the validity of the 'event' others spamming the feed with their questions. it's more than enough to draw kenma's attention away from his other screen and you find yourself pausing as he tenses under your touch.

while you hadn't maliciously tricked him, you had coerced him into this. he'd have every right to scold you for it. you wince when he scoffs, preparing for the brunt of it. but what comes next is just a sigh as he shifts in his chair, the movement inviting your hand to rest comfortably more towards the inside of his thigh as he leaned back.

"you guys ask too many questions, this is why i didn't want to do this q&a. if you get too much for them to handle, i'm going to end the event."

and while his words sound stern, he truly does harvest a bunch of excited individuals as the stream only explodes even more with enthusiasm and inquiries.

frankly way too many for you to keep up with as you bewilderly try to scan the chat for feasible ones to ask. when you finally identify one and turn to ask, you find kenma watching you with that smug pull of his lips.

"well what's next?"

bonus:

eventually, kenma had taken over selecting his own questions as the stream properly shifted into the q&a event, title change and all. the chat adjusted to the new handler as well, being more strategic about their question timings in order to get the most of his attention.

every so often you would chime in, but you mostly relaxed back in your own chair with your legs resting across his lap.

you weren't sure how long exactly you expected this event to go, but you knew it was getting late. not necessarily for a kodzuken stream, but in the day in general.

it was kenma's touch now, that stroked your skin as his gaze followed the never ending influx of questions.

user345675: has he talked about hinata shoyo yet? user09432: i feel like people are asking the same questions user869320: will you ever have guests on your stream? user9642: kodzuken what is it like to run your own company?

intrigued enough, he opened his mouth to reply when another question rolled in

kenmaskitten: what does kodzuken want for dinner?

you look up from your phone as kenma's attention shifts to you. he holds your gaze as he replies,

"i want katsu."

you shrug, easy enough and all the ingredients are probably in the kitchen. however, as you go to slide your legs away, kenma captures one ankle.

"and apple pie."

that was less simple and tastes like a reward.

[theemporium]

i think the “i’m gonna sleep at my place tonight” prank would work on luke. you’ve moved into him and jacks apartment and not only is luke pouty and sleepy and confused. jack is lost bc he’s like “you live here?” would you be willing to make a blurb about this please?

tweaked it a little but thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

.

You hadn’t even done the prank for the sake of recording it, you were mostly just curious at what the reaction would have been after seeing a few videos earlier that day.

The three of you had a routine, one that you had developed wordlessly since you began dating Luke almost a year ago. On the days that you would be sleeping over, the three of you would watch some random movie or series in the living room together after dinner. You and Luke would take the bigger couch with him sprawled over you like a weighted blanket. Jack would take the smaller couch, sometimes paying attention and sometimes scrolling through his phone where he would turn to show you both something he found funny. 

It had become more of a norm the last few weeks since you had been crashing at their apartment for the foreseeable future after your place became inhabitable. 

It was domestic and comforting and predictable. 

So really, the prank was out of pure curiosity on what two hockey players—known for having their superstitions and routines, despite what they said—would do when that predictability was shattered.

“Alright,” you started once Luke was almost half-asleep with his head on your chest and Jack was immersed in whoever he was texting. “I should get going.” 

Luke let out a groan, nuzzling himself closer to you (as if that was possible). “We going to bed?” 

“No,” you said, trying to keep the grin off your face as you combed your fingers through his curls, watching the way he sighed as his eyes fluttered shut again. “I think I’m gonna sleep at my place tonight.” 

That seemed to catch Jack’s attention as he finally looked up from his phone, frowning at you. “What?” 

“I said I’m gonna sleep at my place tonight,” you repeated, moving yourself out from underneath Luke who groaned unhappily. 

Luke’s annoyance slowly morphed into confusion as he watched you start to grab your things. “Wait, what? What do you mean you’re sleeping at your place?” 

“Just need some space,” you said with a casual shrug, looking up to see both brothers staring at you with baffled expressions. “You know, have a me night.” 

Luke’s crestfallen expression almost made you break. He still looked half-asleep, not fully processing whatever conversation you were having. “You don’t want to sleep beside me tonight?” 

You flashed your boyfriend a sheepish smile. 

“Forget that,” Jack scoffed, sitting up a bit straighter. “You live here now? Why wouldn’t you be sleeping here?”

You shrugged. 

Jack blinked. “Did you hit your head and forget that your apartment is currently submerged in, like, three feet of water?” 

Luke blinked a few times like he was starting to wake up a little. “How is that more desirable than my bed?” 

But Jack took one look at the way you were pressing your lips together to hold back your laughter before he let out a groan, slumping back into his seat with a huff. “Ha ha, funny joke.”

“Like you haven’t done shittier pranks,” you snorted. 

However, Luke still looked baffled as he reached out for you, fingers gripping the sleeve of the hoodie you were wearing to pull you closer. “Babe, what do you mean you wanna sleep at your place?” 

Your expression softened as you took in the sleepy, hooded eyes and messy curls, cooing as you tugged your boyfriend to stand up. “Nothing, baby, m’staying the night here. Let’s go to bed, yeah?” 

Luke flashed you a sleepy smile, nodding before he let out a yawn. 

.

[pedriache]

The Wall 𖦹 Jack Hughes !

summary. though you and jack had been together for a little over a year now, you still had your perfectly constructed walls up. your last relationship had been horrible and caused a rift within your self confidence. but jack, jack had been the light in the dark. even when you had your walls up, his presence had light seeping through the tiniest of cracks.

wc. 525+

disclaimers. light angst, mostly fluff, jack being a good listener!!

notes. i’ve never actually written for hockey players b4 since, well, i built this platform on football & f1 mostly but.. hey.. lmk if you’d like more and feel free to req for anyone !!!!!

The sound of water and the faint clicking of dishes filled the kitchen as you stood by the sink, sleeves rolled up, and hands busy. Jack sat on a stool on the other side of the island, chin resting on the butt oh his palms, watching you with the kid of attentiveness that should’ve made you self conscious. But, thankfully, you were too busy to notice.

You were in the midst of talking about a new interest of yours, The Library of Alexandria.

“And then I found this video that went into the details, like every little thing I didn’t even think to realize mattered! And, well, it just completely changed my perspective. I mean who knew that—“ You pause mid-sentence, the realization hitting you like a splash of cold water.

You were rambling, again.

Your ex would’ve rolled his eyes by now. Probably muttering a sarcastic, “are you done yet?” just to make you feel small.

A familiar sense of shame and self-doubt crept in, brushing against the walls you’d been so careful to construct over the past three years. Your hands stilled as you fumbled to regain your grip on the yellow sponge, heat rushing to your face.

Your gaze darted up to your boyfriend cautiously, expecting even the smallest hint of annoyance. All you were met with was a confused Jack. His eyes—the blue so beautiful sometimes you couldn’t stop looking at them—narrowed and face scrunched slightly like he couldn’t understand why you’d suddenly stopped. Then, before you could utter an apology, he slipped off the stool without uttering a word, moving around the island with quiet purpose.

You felt his warmth before you saw him. His arms slid around your waist, pulling you gently into his chest. The kiss he placed on your shoulder was soft but deliberate, the kind of gesture that made any worry you felt dissipate instantly.

And cause a slight fluttering of your heart.

Jack’s chin rested lightly on your shoulder his hair brushing your cheek faintly. “You stopped,” he said simply, voice low and warm on your skin.

You opened your mouth to explain, but Jack reached past you, grabbing his water bottle on the counter and popping the lid open. “You were getting to the best part,” he adds, with a small, reassuring smile as he took a sip. “Keep going.”

Mouth still parted, you watch as Jack just moved to lean against the counter like it was the most normal thing in the world. His blue eyes were still on you, silently encouraging you to continue.

It was so different—he was so different. Where you’d been expecting frustration, Jack offered patience. A whole year of you trying to keep your walls so neatly placed, and he’d been so easy going about the whole thing.

He understood even without in depth details. The cracks in your walls spread a little further, a little deeper—just enough for his light to seep through.

With a small, grateful smile, you picked up where you left off. And Jack’s head tipped to the side, listening to you like your voice was his favorite sound in the world.

likes, comments, and reblog’s are all appreciated. lmk if you’d like to be tagged in any jack or hockey related posts.

ᝰ.ᐟ tags @halfwayhearted @lechrts @sakashq @joaoflms @be11ingham @spidybaby @piastri-fvx

[lovelettersfromluna]

Wasted Summers

Summary: Yet another cliche store of a friends with benefits arrangement blossoming into something that is so much more.

an: this went from something that I wanted to make a Drabble about, to remembering an awesome request that someone sent in, to mixing them both?? To the sweet nony that sent this, I hope this lives up to your expectations of me, and I thank you (and everyone else) for trusting me with something you’d like to see written out! I tweaked a few things, so I hope that’s okay. The ending is sooo rushed on this bc I really wanted to get something out to you all as quickly as possible so I apologize! As always, I love you all so so much. (P.S chapter two of vampire!Ellie is on the way!)

Warnings: MDNI!!, 18+, smut, angst, Ellie is a giant fucking player and had no intentions of settling down (or does she? 😏), Ellie is extremely emotionally unavailable, scissoring, lots of making out, lots of pet names, reader catches a cold, mentions of headaches, medicine, and just your general cold symptoms tbh, please lmk if I missed anything!

You had only made the mistake of asking Ellie what you were to her one time in your friendship.

You couldn’t really help yourself either. She just looked so fucking pretty that night, praising you so well, saying all the right things. Could anyone really blame you for taking it the wrong way? Assuming that she was trying to send signals to you in the same way that you’d tried to send to her?

“Fuck…that’s it…always so fucking good for me, my good fucking girl” she panted out above you as she drilled her sopping wet pussy down onto yours, your head absolutely spinning with the feeling she gave you, the way your heart overflowed with the delicious feeling of euphoria.

You struggled to keep your eyes open, eyebrows furrowed as your fingers dug into the skin of Ellie’s thighs, your own legs trembling as you felt your orgasm growing closer and closer.

Ellie was quick to grab your cheeks, squishing them together and forcing you to form a pout as she tugged your face to look at her.

“No no no…look at me baby, keep your fucking eyes on me when you cum…that’s it…that’s a good girl” she groaned out through gritted teeth, always loving watching you struggle as you came undone at her doings.

“I’m…fuck Ellie…I’m…c-close” you stuttered out, back arching as your lips parted, glossy eyes staring up at the girl almost in awe as she drove you towards your third orgasm of the night, struggling to hang onto the very thin rope that was keeping you connected to this world.

She smirked down at you, giving you an encouraging nod as her tattooed hands gripped your thighs tightly, sure to leave marks in the morning.

“That’s my fuckin girl…come on baby…fuck…I’m…fuck!” She shouted out, her own back arching as her hips sputtered, her pussy gushing onto yours as she came hard with a strangled moan. The sound of her cumming alone was enough to make your own eyes flutter shut, hands flying down to your mattress as you gripped the sheets tightly, your knuckles aching as you screamed out Ellie’s name over and over again, tears threatening to spill out your eyes with the intensity of your orgasm.

“M-mm….fuck” you stuttered out, struggling to catch your breath as your naked chest rose and fell, trying to find a steady pace for yourself. Ellie gave a lazy chuckle as she stared down at you, her hand coming up to give your cheeks a quick squeeze.

“Did good for me princess..” she praised you, your heart swelling at her words.

Ellie’s words never failed to make your head spin.

She was quick to roll off of you, her back hitting your bed with a thud as she laid next to you, staring up at your ceiling as she tried to recollect herself.

And that’s what it usually was with you and Ellie. She’d come to your house, you guys would either play video games or watch a movie, she would get handsy and things would always end with her tugging you to your bedroom, either between your legs or on top of you. You loved every second of it, being with Ellie, feeling Ellie, it was all perfect all the time but…

You couldn’t help but want more.

Your heart felt empty every time she left, every time she jumped up from your bed, claiming that she either had to wake up early for work in the morning, or she had someone waiting for her in the city, leaving you alone in your apartment with nothing more than a quick squeeze on your hip, and the slamming of your door as she left. And maybe it was the fact that she didn’t immediately leave your bed that night that even prompted you to ask in the first place, a silent sign from the universe that this was your chance to understand where you stood with her.

“Ellie…” you called out her name softly, still staring at your ceiling before you turned on your side to look at her. She responded with a gentle hum, her arm bent and propped against the back of her head. Your heart is beating so fast now, staring at her pretty features, her profile was almost from that of a painting, or a sculpture. It made you wanna reach out and gently trace them, burning the feeling of her face into your memory.

You don’t realize you’re staring until she looks over at you, eyebrows furrowing for a minute before she gives a chuckle. “What? Do I have something on my face?” She questions, and you know she’s teasing you. You roll your eyes before giving her a soft, playful nudge.

A moment passes, and you’re simply staring at her, trying to find the words to say to her, how to properly ask her what you’ve been dying to ask her.

Her features soften, a soft pout on her lips as she turns to you more, her body facing yours entirely. “Hey…everything okay?” She asks gently, and her tone alone is making you want to pass out then and there, the care in her voice almost making you whine.

You take a deep inhale, before your mouth opens and you finally say it.

“What…what are we?” You mumble out, blinking a few times as you stare up at the girl, waiting for her to respond.

But it starts to feel like you’re waiting forever, because Ellie’s jaw goes slack as she stares at you with wide eyes, clearly shocked that you’d even think to ask her something like that. It puts your stomach in knots, and it makes you regret even asking in the first place, but before you can even retract fully, telling her some lame excuse about it being just a joke, or a dumb prank, she’s opening her mouth to respond.

“I…we’re friends…you know that, don’t you?” She asks carefully, eyeing you as if this should all be common knowledge to you, as if you’d always been on the same page to begin with.

You blink a few times at her, unable to respond to her or even agree with what she’s saying. You feel choked up, throat closing up as the inevitable tears threaten to spill past your cheeks, the girl of your dreams confirming that you two are in fact not on the same page.

“Don’t you?” She repeats, her voice growing worried as she stares down at you with her eyebrows furrowed, scared that she’s seeing things when she notices the way your eyes gloss over.

And it prompts you to quickly clear your throat, practically sucking the tears back into your body as you give her a quick nod, all while scooting away from her a bit. Because suddenly, it feels like Ellie is entirely too close to you in your bed.

“Yeah…yeah I do” you try to chirp out, putting on your best attempt at trying to sound like you weren’t completely dying inside.

Of course she can see right through it, the girl staring down at you wearily as she tries to read you. You almost hope she’ll speak up about it, comfort you and tell you that whatever you had going on was okay, and it was normal to not have a label on things.

But she doesn’t.

She gives you a quick nod before she awkwardly clears her own throat, the tension in your room thick as she reaches behind her on the ground for her t shirt, quickly pulling it on over her head before she scrambles out of your bed to search for her clothes. One by one, she silently dresses herself in her underwear, and her jeans, and soon, she looks exactly like the way she looked when she first got to your house.

You aren’t sure if Ellie’s ever been so eager to leave you before.

You inhale deeply as you sit up, tugging the blankets over your chest, suddenly scared to be bare in front of the girl, as if she wasn’t sucking on your tits mere moments ago. You can’t even find it in yourself to ask why she’s in such a hurry, the embarrassment from your first question eating you up to almost nothing as it is.

Ellie’s the one that breaks the silence first.

“Right…so…I gotta meet Jesse in town…I’ll uh…” she trails off as she trips over her own feet, walking backwards to quickly open your room door. It looks almost like she can’t leave quick enough, so you simply nod and give her a wave, with a half smile.

“Yeah…bye Ellie” your tone is dismissive, way too dismissive and you know that. But at this point, you want Ellie out of your apartment just as much as it seems like she wants to leave. It’s too awkward, to much of a grey area has covered the both of you that you desperately want to escape now, even if you were the one that brought it onto yourself.

She’s taken aback by the way you rush her out, regardless of the fact that she’s being just as dodgy as you are, if not more. She tries her best to ignore the way her heart aches at the way you’re dismissing her, avoiding the way it makes her feel like you’re kicking her out. Instead, she swallows thickly and gives a quick nod before she stutters over her own words, a sorry attempt at a goodbye, and leaves.

When she does leave, you’re left with a heavy feeling settled onto you. It makes you feel like you’ve done something wrong, like you’ve ruined something by talking too much or opening your mouth. Things were fine between you and Ellie, a bit confusing, but if it wasn’t broken, why try to fix it?

That night, you could only lay in your bed that smelled too heavily of Ellie, and think of all the ways you could try to force not only her, but yourself to forget about the events that just took place, desperate to get back to the way things were.

Waking up with a sore throat and a runny nose a few weeks after the incident with Ellie seemed to be just your luck.

Perhaps all of the stress and overthinking that you endured during the time weakened your immune system, the lack of sleep that you were getting not helping much either. You couldn’t really help it, not entirely at least. You should have seen it coming though, all the signs were right there in front of you.

Things had been fine with you and Ellie after everything happened that night, everything going back to normal almost too easily. You were both very much on the same page of pretending as though none of it happened, and Ellie only confirmed that when she texted you the morning after asking if you were going to attend some plans that your friend group had included you in a few days prior.

While the relief you felt alleviated a lot of the stress the situation brought on, you couldn’t avoid the nagging feeling that came with the unknown. Your overthinking was in overdrive of course, constantly wondering what Ellie was thinking, what she was going to do with your friendship, it was all too overwhelming.

Things that night with Ellie were fine, great even. You two were sat together in the booth of the lounge that you had all met up in, her hands dancing along your thighs, toying with the hem of your dress as you laughed at something Dina said. To your surprise, she even leaned into you towards the end of the night, whispering in your ear, asking if you wanted to get out of there, which was a telltale sign that Ellie wanted to get you alone.

You should’ve known you were coming down with something when you gave her a shy smile and politely declined, making up some excuse about being tired. Tired was an understatement, you were exhausted, and the worst part was, you couldn’t put your finger on what the hell was going on with you. Ellie could sense it to, frowning at the way you quickly brushed her off and scooted out of the booth, making you the first one to go home that night.

You thought it was just a lack of sleep, your body begging you to just relax and take care of yourself for once. Making a big cup of tea and giving yourself a warm bath would do just the trick, surly. You felt hopeful when tucking yourself into bed and drifting off to sleep almost instantly.

However, the next morning was brutal. Your throat felt like you’d been swallowing nails, your nose stuffy, head filled with so much pressure it felt as though it would pop at any time. Instantly, you knew you were sick, and as inconvenient as it was, you were due for it. You hadn’t gotten sick in who knows how long, so it almost felt like your body was forcing you to focus on yourself rather than Ellie for once.

You always wondered how people function properly when they were sick, getting things done, being productive, because you were the complete opposite. Being sick meant shutting down for approximately seven to nine business days until all of your symptoms were at least a tiny bit alleviated. You wouldn’t talk to anyone, or even tell anyone that you were sick, all you wanted was to sulk in bed and feel sorry for yourself until you got even remotely better.

You didn’t even text Ellie.

And your absence is what sends her into somewhat of a frenzy of anxiety. She’s so used to hearing from you almost every day, if not through text messages or calls, then through other apps where you two can send stupid memes and videos to each other. The first few days she rights off as you simply being busy, even if the entire situation at your house has her on edge and she’s thinking the absolute worst. But a day or two turns into a week, and it’s the longest Ellie has ever gone without hearing from you.

So now shes worried.

Because what happened to you? Are you angry with her? Have you finally realized that Ellie isn’t enough for you? That this awkward little game that you and her are playing is far too good for you? Because it is. Ellie knows deep in her bones that it is, she knows that she’s playing a dangerous game with you, dangling someone as fantastic as you by a thread, keeping you both separated by the whole friends with benefits facade that she knows is a load of bullshit.

And why does she do it? The same reason why anyone does, of course.

Ellie is a coward.

She’s the biggest coward there ever was, terrified of commitment, scared that the second she makes you here’s entirely things will change, and she’ll be forced to lose the single best thing that’s ever happened to her.

That, and the fact that you and Ellie have been friends since you were kids.

You both happened to be the new kids at the school in town, and it’s what brought you two together. You found friends in one another, and you decided to tackle the cruel adolescent world of middle school together rather than on your own.

The friends with benefits thing didn’t start until college, when one drunk night together lead to you straddling Ellie in some gross frat bedroom, grinding down on her as you pushed your tongue down her throat. At that point, Ellie had experienced many different nights with many different girls, earning a bit of a reputation at your university as a player, which you were very aware of. But regardless of all the girls she’d fallen into bed with, no one ever made her feel the way you did, never even came close.

And Ellie knew she couldn’t let go of that.

It became her own personal addiction, the silent agreement of fucking her best friend becoming a very frequent occurrence. Sleepovers would turn into nights filled with kisses and bliss, study sessions would almost always end with Ellie hovering over you with her hand shoved between your legs, playing with your pussy as much as she wanted until you became a moaning mess for her.

You two never truly discussed what you were, not until that night at least.

Ellie always thanked her lucky stars over the fact that you simply went along with it, allowing her to play with your body whenever she wanted, and you with hers. It was like a blessing, her beautiful best friend that she’d been obsessed with since the first day of sixth grade, now letting her see her in a way that she knew many didn’t see you in.

She should’ve known it was too good to be true.

Because that look in your eyes that night made Ellie’s heart race, and while she’d dreamt of you asking her that more times than she could count, it suddenly became her biggest nightmare. She couldn’t leave your room fast enough, the look of want, need, love in your eyes, practically begging her to make you more than just her friend she occasionally fucked.

As much as she didn’t want them to, she knew things would change after that.

She saw it in the way you acted that night at the lounge, denying her of alone time with you, quickly scurrying out of the booth as if you couldn’t get further away from her. And now your absence was only further confirming Ellie’s worst nightmare. You were done with her, years of friendship flushed down the fucking toilet because she was too much of a fucking coward to…

To….

To tell you how in love with you she was.

For once, why couldn’t she suck up her pride and just admit that she was in love? Did love make her weak? Did it mean she had to leave behind a life she didn’t even enjoy that much? The girls were great, a fun way to pass the time, but none of them held a candle to you, and she knew that. She even tried hooking up with someone the night she left your apartment, and it made her feel fucking sick.

And now you were leaving, and she had no one to blame but herself.

In true Ellie fashion though, she wouldn’t go down without a fight.

As much as she knew she didn’t deserve one, she wanted an explanation. You both had been friends for too fucking long for her to be thrown away like this, even if it was her fault.

So? A little over a week since that night at the lounge, Ellie is marching her way up to your apartment, and landing a hard knock on your familiar front door.

The noise makes you jolt out of your sleep, the sound of the harsh knocking echoing throughout your small apartment. It makes you whine, because after yet another miserable night with no sleep, you were finally able to knock yourself out with some cold medicine you had delivered to your house. The sleep was heavy and uncomfortable but it was the only way you were able to get even a little bit of shut eye. You hoped and prayed that whoever it was would get the memo that you wouldn’t come to the door, however another string of knocks made you groan loudly, your sore throat rattling as you did so.

Your bones ached as you tossed your blanket back and swung your legs over the bed. The cold wooden floor was unwelcoming to your feet, making you shiver as you pushed yourself off of the bed with weak arms, slowly trudging towards your door.

When you finally get to it, you try your best to clear your throat, knowing that it’s all in vain. Nothing was strong enough to bring back your voice from the raspy sound that it was now, all the coughing and sneezing making it so that you could barely get one syllable out let alone a full sentence.

“Yes?” You rasp out as you opened the door, pouting in annoyance as you rub your sleep filled eyes, arms wrapping around your body to stop the inevitable shiver that ran down your spine every second.

Ellie feels her heart break when she sees you. Your hair is messy, dark bags settled under your eyes, nose red, and skin lacking the usual radiance you always emitted. You didn’t even wear your usual cute matching pajama set, instead wearing a big t shirt that nearly swallowed you whole, and a pair of baggy sweatpants that were extremely faded.

You were sick.

And all the mean things she had planned to say to you suddenly disappear, now replaced with the urge to take care of you, and beg to understand why you didn’t call her when you started feeling this way.

“Baby…” she almost whines out, heart aching at the sight of you. You didn’t even realize who it was at first, your fever ridden brain having a hard time adjusting to the figure at the door. Her voice gives it away first.

“Ellie?” You croak out, and the sound is nearly enough to bring Ellie to tears.

Without another word, she’s gently pushing past you to get into your apartment, shutting the door behind her. Her eyes never lead your figure as she studies your face.

“Ellie…you shouldn’t be here, I’m really not-“ you try, because the last thing you want is to get Ellie sick, subjecting her to the hell that you’ve had to live through for the past week.

She quickly cuts you off, shaking her head as she grabs a hold of your wrist, tugging you to your room.

“When did you start feeling this way?” Her tone is stern, but soft, and it makes your heart melt.

A nasty cough rattles your chest, and you groan at the pain you feel in your tired lungs. You let her pull the sheets back and help you into bed, instantly sighing as the warmth wraps you up, making you feel a bit better.

You clear your throat before you respond. “The morning after the lounge…didn’t wanna bother anyone” you confess, now letting the girl tuck you into bed.

There’s a permanent frown on her face as she bring her palm to your head, which only deepens when she feels how warm you are. “You’re burning up…” she mumbles under her breath.

She looks around your room, only to see that your beside table is littered with tiny signs that you’d been trying to take care of yourself. There were cough drops, different bottles of medicine, a box of tissues and a small compress. She sighs as she grabs one of the bottles, reading the back before she speaks to you again.

“When’s the last time you took this?” She questions, another ugly cough rattling through your poor lungs, making you whine as you push your face into your pillow, feeling utterly fed up with the current condition of your body.

“Dunno…just been trying to sleep it off instead” your words make Ellie frown deeply, knowing how stubborn you’d always been with medicine, often times far too deep in felt pity to even bring yourself to take it.

“Well you’re going to take some now..come on, sit up” she urges you gently, her tattooed hand gently grabbing your arm and pulling you sit up. She shook out the correct dosage of medicine for you before she handed it to you with a bottle of water, her green eyes filled with worry and concern as she eyed you as you took it.

She felt her heart ache at the mere sight of you, a permanent pout on your lips, eyes drained of the familiar brightness she’d come to love oh so much. She could see how much it visibly pained you to even drink the water, your hand coming up to cup your throat as if to soothe the pain from the outside in.

“Hurts?” She questioned gently, her hand coming behind you to rub your back gently. You give her a slow nod, eyes closing as you lean into her and her touch, the feeling of her warm hands making the chill in your bones melt almost immediately.

She gives you a nod before she helps you lay back down. “Stay here…I know what’ll help, okay baby?” She reassures you. You’re too weak to even respond, a shaky sigh leaving your lips as you settle down against your pillow, the medicine already doing its work to give you a break from the intense cough your body had grown used to within the last few days.

Ellie is on her feet once she’s sure you’ve settled, walking out of your bedroom and into your kitchen where she grabs your little tea kettle, filling it up with water and putting the water to boil. She grabs your favorite mug while the water heats up, as well as some peppermint tea and some honey.

She finds herself deep in thought while she waits for the water to boil, a soft frown playing on her lips as her knuckle raps against your counter.

Ellie absolutely hates herself for not being more proactive with you. She should’ve known you were getting sick from the moment you weren’t responding to her text messages earlier in the week, it was a typical sign on your end that you weren’t feeling like yourself, something that you’d often do to not burden anyone with what you were feeling. But you were all alone, and it was Ellie’s job as your friend to take care of you when you needed her.

She sighs to herself as she finishes making up your tea, tapping the spoon on the edge of your mug before she brought it to her mouth, humming at the taste before she nodded to herself and brought it to your room.

The medicine must have knocked you out immediately, because your eyes are closed and your lips are parted in the slightest as soft snore escapes from your body. It makes Ellie groan to herself as she gently sits on your bed, hating the fact that she had to disturb your sleep.

“Baby?…come on pretty girl…wake up and drink a bit of this, then you can go back to bed” her soft voice reaches you in the depths of your fever ridden brain, and it makes you blink your eyes open to see if it’s another dream, or if she’s actually there.

Hazy eyes blink back at Ellie, a soft whine leaving your lips as you bring your hand up to rub your eyes, the nasty cough rattling through your chest as you promptly sit up for her, reaching out and taking the mug.

“You shouldn’t be here Ellie….what if I get you sick?” You croak out before bringing the mug to your lips, taking a sip of the warm drink, allowing it to soothe your aching throat.

Ellie watches you intently before she rolls her eyes playfully. “Jokes on you, getting sick would just mean you have to take care of me” she gives you a wink, and you groan softly, nudging her with your blanket clad foot before you take another sip and set the mug on your bedside table.

“Feels like my fever broke…I should be able to take care of myself now, El” you try, a soft sigh leaving your lips as you settle back against your pillow, tugging your blankets up to your chin.

Ellie watches you closely, you were clearly in need of sleep, exhaustion taking over your weak body the second your head hit the pillow. She simply hummed at your response before she pushed herself off the bed. You assumed this was here obeying, silently leaving because she assumed you were already fast asleep, however the girl was kicking off her shoes instead, leaving her only in her sweatpants and her t-shirt before she promptly crawled in next to you in your bed.

You whine softly, but still let her tug you closer. Her strong hands are like ice on your warm thigh, tugging it over her leg and pressing your body against hers. She’s so warm, and you can’t help but push your cold hands under her shirt, pressing against her warm stomach. She chuckles softly as it makes her shiver, keeping you close regardless.

“Might as well stay since I’m here now, yeah?” She hums out softly, earning only a weak hum from you in response.

Ellie isn’t sure if she’s ever seen anyone fall asleep so quickly, soft snores leaving your lips again as she holds you close, rubbing small shapes into your back as she simply lays there, holding you in your bed.

It makes her heart ache when she realizes this is the first time she’s back here with you since you asked her what you were to her that one night. It makes her wonder how much things would’ve changed up until now if she’d told you the truth, told you just how much she wanted you to be hers and only hers, dropping the stupid act of being single and being free for you would’ve been much smarter than what she did instead.

Seeing you sick, in bed and all alone made Ellie feel like she’d failed you, not only as someone who was madly in love with you, but as your friend. What kind of friend ignored the signs, forcing you to take care of yourself when you felt so poorly.

Watching you lay there, sleeping soundly as you so deserved in her arms made Ellie’s heart burst with a feeling she knew she’d had for you for such a long time, since she’d met you really. Taking care of you felt even better.

So that’s exactly what she was gonna do.

Ellie doesn’t leave your side the entire time she’s there with you.

Which is about three days. You were already coming to the end of your cold when she had found you, and while it felt worse than when you first got sick, the end was near.

Your heart would flutter every time Ellie would wake you up for your medicine, or gently tug you out of bed for a warm bath, she’d even managed to run down to your favorite cafe for a bowl of soup in record breaking time to make sure you were getting something good to eat. She did everything in her power to nurse you back to health, never once agreeing with your many pleas to leave you there alone before you got her sick.

When you finally stopped asking her to leave you, you were left with the plaguing thoughts that you tried getting rid of, the ones filled with Ellie denying your question, denying you of the answer you wanted so badly when you asked her what you were to her. It made no sense to you, someone that used your body at their disposal, caring so much for your health and your wellbeing, you truly couldn’t outweigh the reasons as to why Ellie was suddenly here, when she wasn’t before.

It didn’t take long for your fever to break completely, and for the cough to subside to something that happened only once in a while rather than every minute or so. It was finally starting to look up for you.

Which meant Ellie had to leave soon.

You were sat up in your bed while Ellie was in your kitchen, washing up some of the dishes from when you and her had eaten together, a permanent frown on your lips as you toyed with the blanket draped over your legs.

Ellie returned, a soft smile on her face as she watched the way you were sat up, looking far more alert than a few days prior.

“You’re looking so much better, baby…that’s good to see” she hummed out as she moved to crawl into bed with you, taking her usual spot. She leaned in, wanting to press a kiss to your neck, she lets out a soft huff when you try to pull away.

“Hm? What’s the matter? I already told you I don’t care if I get sick…” you can hear the smirk in her voice as she leans in again, this time aiming for the corner of your lips.

You just couldn’t take it anymore.

You pressed your hand to her chest, finally looking into her eyes. She can tell by the look on your face that this is much more than you fussing over her getting sick.

“I can’t…what is this Ellie? I appreciate you taking care of me and helping me get better but…” your words trail off, a soft pout on your lips as you struggle with the words you want to say before you let out a gentle sigh, eyes dropping from Ellie’s, looking down at your lap instead.

“This feels too intimate…the kissing…the way touch me…” you explain, your voice falling to nothing but a small, hoarse sound.

“I want to respect what you said about us…but you’re making it really hard when you treat me like I’m your girlfriend” you sigh out, hating that you even had to explain any of this to Ellie in the first place.

She’s frowning at this point, eyebrows furrowed as she eyes you carefully. It feels like you’re practically twisting the knife that had been lodged into her heart from the moment you asked her what you were to her. She ignorantly wished you two could just ignore it all, let it blow over while she pretended she could have you in the way she wanted, all while hurting you at the same time.

“I think we just…shouldn’t do these things anymore…the kissing, the fucking….” Your words are shaky, and Ellie can hear that you’re at the brink of tears without even seeing your face.

And she knows this is it, she’s lost her chance.

You finally look up at her, your eyes red and filled with tears threatening to spill out onto your soft cheeks.

“I’m sorry…I appreciate you coming here and helping me but I can’t-“ your words are cut off by Ellie’s lips on yours. Both of her hands are cupping your face as she gives you a kiss so filled with passion, it’s nearly enough to make you whine. But as good as her lips feel, you’re quick to push her off.

“Ellie no! I told you, you’ll get sick” you complain, your hands wrapped around both of her wrists as you pull them away from your face.

A moment passes as she simply stares into your eyes, a pleading looking written on her face as if she’s silently begging you to hear her, to understand what she wants to convey all without saying a single word in the process.

But you don’t.

“I’m not like you, Ellie…I get attached, and I want more with you…more than you want with me and it just won’t-“ it’s the second time she’s cutting you off for the night, this time she speaks.

“And I love that!” she blurts out finally, her voice cracking with the amount of emotions that filled her up, from simply staring into your eyes.

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion as you eye the girl closely, shaking your head as you try to understand. “But you said….” Your words trail off, because even recalling the words she’d said to you that night hurts.

Ellie sighs softly before she shakes her head. “I know what I said…and I’m an idiot for it” she groans out, knowing deep down this would always have been the outcome of her actions, whether she wanted it or not.

She reached forward, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear before her hand dropped down to cup your cheek gently.

“I’ve wanted you…since the moment I laid eyes on you” she breaths out. You can practically hear the relief it brings her, just from admitting it to you. Ellie feels as though the weight of the world is lifted off of her shoulders when the words fall from the tip of her tongue.

You simply stare at her, eyes wide and eager to hear more, practically begging her to go on.

Her pink tongue darts from her behind her lips, thumb stroking your cheek gently before she continued to speak. “I felt like when we started doing this…it would be my ticket to finally telling you how much I love you…clearly I’m too much of a coward for that” she chuckles out, only half joking as the bitter words fall into the air of your room.

The moment of silence that falls between the two of you feels like an eternity, it feels too long since you’ve said something and it makes Ellie feel sick. She didn’t know what she was hoping for when she told you, it whatever was happening was far from it.

And so, she begins to panic.

“I’m sorry I ever said those things to you. I just didn’t know what to say when you asked and I panicked and it just-“ it’s your turn to cut her off, leaning in and pressing your lips to hers to shut her up. It makes Ellie melt as soon as you do, a soft whine leaving her lips as one of her hands falls down to your waist, wanting you as close as possible.

Your lips work against hers for a moment before you finally pull apart, a soft smile on your lips as you stare into her eyes.

“So you love me, hm?” You tease her, and it makes Ellie whine as she falls back to lay against your pillow, tugging you down with her by your waist as she pulls you to straddle her lower body.

“That’s all you gathered? Here I am confessing my undying love and apologizing at the same time and all you get is one thing” she smirks as she stares up at you, her hands caressing your bare thighs.

“You’re lucky I’m used to your idiotic tendencies…I don’t think anyone would deal with this behavior” you hear her again with a fake pout, which earns a fake groan from her end before she gives your thighs a firm squeeze.

“Good thing it’s you then, hm?” She mumbles out softly, making you giggle before you bend down to attach your lips to hers, wanting nothing more than to enjoy the girl now that feelings had been confessed.

After a moment of your lips against hers, you hear Ellie groan, which makes you frown as you pull away. “Everything okay baby?” You ask softly, only to see that Ellie is pouting childish up at you.

“My throat kinda hurts…”

[schlattschlut]

Camera Flash - Schlatt smut

Schlatt always has a camera pointed at you.

Anyway, here you go

Cw: smut, sex tapes, fingering, yk the works

Schlatt couldn’t help it, his love for physical media and me were both too strong. He couldn’t really be blamed that he had a stack of polaroids of me, several cassette tapes piled in into a locked box underneath our shared bed; images he kept for his eyes only.

Except for the times he wanted me to see them too, placing the box in the bed and putting in the code, flipping it open while he smirks at me. “Please?” He begs slightly, “You look so good in this one.” He mutters, pulling out a specific tape, one dated just over two months ago.

“Schlatt…” I mumble, standing next to him and staring down at the tape in his hands. I knew exactly which one it was, considering it was also labeled Bathtub. I didn’t mind Schlatts urge to keep a camera on me, I found it incredibly endearing. But even all of the tapes locked away in the box are filmed from his perspective, only showing my body and none of him. He knew how much I preferred to be looking at him in those moments, but he still couldn’t help but beg me to watch them anyway.

“I can make it fun.” He states, setting the tape on the bed and closing the box, shoving it back in its place under the bed before picking up the tape again and grabbing my hand, pulling me with him towards his desk where his cassette player was set up.

He slides the tape into the player, turning on the small tv next to it that he insisted was the only right way to enjoy physical media like this.

Schlatt sits down in his chair as the video starts, he grabs my waist and pulls me into his lap to watch along with him. His lips attach to my neck while he keeps his eyes on the video screen, watching the replay of us in the bath together, his hands running over my body and causing suds to slide along my skin.

I whine as he bites my neck, his fingers start to slide along my inner thigh, pushing my dress up my hips as he did. My hand reaches up to tangle in his hair, tugging on it softly as he bites my neck again.

My eyes flutter close for a moment and my head lolls back before Schlatt lifts his head from my shoulder, grabbing my cheeks and forcing my face back to the tv. “Eyes on the screen.” He mutters, his fingers running along the edge of my underwear as he ensures I’m watching the tv. “This is my favorite part.” He mutters, pulling his hand from my cheeks to point at the screen just as he slides into me on camera, my moans audible and making me blush in real time as I feel his fingers slip past my underwear, his middle finger running along my folds before pressing against my clit.

My eyes are still on the screen, watching the water splash as my hips moved over Schlatt and he smacked my ass repeatedly.

He moans behind me, slipping just his middle finger into me, pressing against the sensitive spot inside me. My breath catches in my throat as he adds his ring finger, his fingers curling faster now as he listened to the way my body reacted.

Schlatts free hand pushing my dress down my shoulders, exposing my chest to him; his fingers pinching my nipple and he hummed at the way they hardened.

“Look at you.” He mutters, referring to the version of me on the tv, “You always look so good on my cock.”

His words make my head spin, his teeth grazing my ear as he pants heavily, his hips bucking against my ass as his fingers start to get deeper, his movements deliberate and well planned. It was an entire possibility that he could get me off better than I could, seeming to know my body even better than me.

I feel coil in my stomach grow tighter, wanting desperately to be released. “Schlatt…” I whine, almost as a warning.

“Yeah, baby? You gonna come?” He whispers into my ear, already knowing what I was trying to say. “Gonna come from watching me fuck you, huh?” He taunts.

I nod frantically, my eyes watching the screen closely as the feeling built even more. I was right on the edge, squeezing around Schlatts fingers just before he pulls away completely; leaving me whimpering at the loss of contact.

“Need you to come around me.” He states, lifting me from the chair and carrying me over to the bed. He unzips his pants, pushing them down and freeing his length from his boxers. He runs his cock over my folds a few times, gathering my

juices as lubricant before sliding himself into me slowly. He grips my thighs roughly, pushing against the way my body resisted him at first. Once he’s fully seated in me, I whine and squeeze around him, “There you go.” He mumbles, “Knew you could take me.”

His words force a moan out of me as his hips start to rock slowly. My eyes roll back as he starts to speed them up.

Schlatt lets go of my legs, pushing my dress up just far enough to expose my chest to him. He leans forward, pursing his lips and spitting on my breast before taking my nipple in his mouth. He hums softly, his eyes closing and his body relaxing for a moment before he pulls away with a pop.

He leans back, admiring my body under him as his hips hammered forward.

My eyes close, I sigh softly and trail my hands along his chest as the shifting of his hips clouded my brain. I don’t even register that he’s picked up his polaroid camera until the flash hits me and I open my eyes, watching the photo print slowly from the camera as he pulls his face away from the view finder.

Schlatt grins, grabbing the picture and setting it on the bed next to us. “Sorry toots.” He mutters, picking up the camera and angling it lower; capturing just the way our bodies connected, “You’re too hot not to.” He states, setting that picture down and picking up the other to show me. I blush, shoving his hand and the photo away.

“Let me.” I mumble, reaching for his camera.

Schlatt laughs, holding the device up and out of my reach, “No way toots.” He replies quickly, “This film is reserved for your pretty face.”

I whine, pouting up at him, “No fair.” I huff, “I want pictures of you.”

A smirk crosses Schlatts face, “I’ll have to buy you your own camera then.”

I groan, crossing my arms, “So not fair.” I mutter, pouting further as he lowers the camera again and snaps another photo of me.

He doesn’t let me complain further, not even waiting for the photo to print fully as he sets the camera down on the bed and slams his hips against mine.

My breath catches in my throat and my back arches; Schlatt grabbing my waist and holding me down against him as he starts to thrust steadily.

He smiles as he hears my moans, the look on his face incredibly smug. He takes one hand off my waist to press his thumb against my clit; a whimper escaping me as he starts to move in small circles.

Schlatt laughs softly, his free hand now wrapped around my throat as he stares down at me. “Too dumb to complain now.” He groans, his hips not slowing down as he chased his own high. I squeeze around him and he grunts softly, his hips stuttering. “Goddamnit.” He mutters, his hips stilling as he comes in me.

Schlatt lifts his body off of mine, his hips rolling slowly. “Say cheese.” He chuckles, grabbing his camera and snapping a photo as soon as I come around him.

Schlatt sets the camera back down, laying his chest on top of mine as he worked to catch his breath. I glance at the camera, picking it up quickly and pointing it at the two of us; pressing the button quickly.

The camera flashes and Schlatt groans in annoyance; “You’ll pay for that.” He grumbles as I feel him start to harden again, his hips pressing forward.

[threeacttragedy]

Entry 1 - The One About That Weird Ass Cressida Post

This is my first blog entry and, before you start reading, let me just drop in this little disclaimer: 

You will find that I bounce between fact and speculation with a mix of sarcasm and [I hope] level-headedness, common sense, and deductive reasoning.

I am a Lukola. Plain and simple. You will not change my mind. It’s an all or nothing thing for me. How I got here, I’m not exactly sure – wait, no I do know how I got here (thank you Nicola and Luke for being so fucking charming).

Of course, I knew what Bridgerton was before I joined the Lukola fandom. In fact, I watched both Seasons 1 and 2, and they were okay. Yes, just okay.

I knew that Season 3 was about Penelope – the only character I found remotely interesting – so when I saw an article on People’s page showing Nicola and her costar holdings hands, I admit I was intrigued.

Were they dating?

Let’s ask Mr. Google and find out.

No, apparently, they were not.

Okay, fine.

I then made the mistake of clicking on a video of Nicola and Luke being interviewed in Australia. And, motherfuck, they were like lightning in a bottle! Luke – being asked if he believed in friends to lovers – responded in a way that left me feeling a bit blindsided. My immediate thought was: “He fell in love with Nicola the moment he met her.” It’s funny how many people I’ve spoken to since who had an identical reaction and, to be honest, Luke’s response won’t make your heart flutter. But, it was something in the way he said it.

Now, let me explain my feelings about love at first sight. Actually, Nicola explained it best when she said lust at first sight is often mistaken for love at first sight. This, I agree with wholeheartedly. To me, love at first sight does not have to be lusty. It can be, sure, but it can also be something entirely different. Maybe it’s a fleeting feeling of recognizing someone in a way you cannot possibly articulate out loud. Maybe it’s a palpitation of your heartbeat. Maybe it feels like home. Regardless, when you experience it, you’ll know it.

That, my friends, is how I got here, and why I [sometimes begrudgingly] stay here – walking alongside this rather long, winding, and often pothole-filled road waiting for two people to admit to the general public – whether it be in a blatant or subtle manner – that they are, in fact, together.

I’ve noticed in this fandom we seem to have three types of people.  We have the Sincerely Ignorant, the Conscientiously Stupid, and the Fact Finders.

The Sincerely Ignorant are those that are easily persuaded. They are like sheep following their shepherd. In fact, the Sincerely Ignorant are the most dangerous as they tend to spiral hard and fast – and often without reason.

Next, we have the Conscientiously Stupid. These are the shippers that choose to live in error because it fits their narrative. We are all a bit Conscientiously Stupid but there are those that push an idea so hard that they omit certain truths from their storyboard. The danger here is obvious and their victims always include the Sincerely Ignorant.

Lastly, we have the Fact Finders. The people who track information – key players, side characters, dates, places, statements, etc. These are the people who often find themselves pulling the Sincerely Ignorant out of the water when they spiral, usually due to narratives being pushed by the Conscientiously Stupid.

I am a Fact Finder. Am I perfect? Fuck no, but I do find it fun to collect and analyze information and share it with my fellow Fact Finders. Plus, collecting data helps me maintain some indifference towards the USS Lukola because, let’s face it, this god-damned ship has been blasted by quite a few cannonballs at this point. Some days, I’m surprised we’re still afloat.

Let’s start with Cannonball No. 1. Pap-fucking-smear. June 12/13, 2024. What a fucking shit show. Who shows up to the London premiere? Antonia, Luke’s – I honestly don’t even know what word to use here because I have a lot of different thoughts but out of [a small amount of] respect I will call her – “girl friend” [yes, that space was intentional]. We all know the story, Luke was papped outside his hotel with Antonia on premiere night and he was pegged an overnight dumpster fire.

And, oh my God, the Sincerely Ignorant and Conscientiously Stupid ran with it. I mean, they practically became wild dogs chasing down a fox under the command of Nicola the Huntsman. However, Nicola, almost immediately, came to Luke’s rescue by posting an “in support of” style story to her IG. I’m not saying Nicola wasn’t affected by this mishap. At the very least, the post-premiere PR efforts were dumped squarely on her tiny shoulders. At the worst, she’d had her heart broken.

I never liked the Papsmear pictures. Not because I disliked what they depicted but because there was something “off” about them. Luke didn’t look like a man happy to be out with his lady friend. He looked like a man who had been hoodwinked and whether that was because he knew he’d just made a major PR misstep or because he knew the narrative that would follow was false doesn’t really matter because it’s all speculative. But, what makes me believe it was the latter is what Luke did next.

On June 15, Luke put a story on his IG promoting Season 3. That isn’t all that interesting but the scene it depicted made me do a double take.

Could it be?

No…no way…

But…it was.

It was the scene in Ep. 6 where Cressida entered the Mondrich Ball and Colin pulled Penelope aside and told her he wouldn’t let Cressida ruin their evening.

What in the hot fuck? I mean, really, what in the hot fuck??

Did Luke really just blast out an IG story where his character tells Nicola’s character not to let the Cressida character ruin their evening? Was Cressida…Antonia?

Because that’s fucking loud.

I mean, of all the scenes over four episodes, Luke chose THAT one to promote Pt. 2?

Surely, Antonia or one of her friends or family members would have picked up on this, right? And, told Antonia.

No one is going to convince me that Luke and Antonia were in a blissful relationship after that IG story was posted. Why? Because the deductive reasoning part of my brain tells me Luke chose Nicola straight outta Pap-gate.

The Conscientiously Stupid may [rather they WILL] argue that it was just for PR. Okay, but that would mean Antonia accepted the comparison between Cressida, the Evening-Ruiner, and herself. Take a moment and put yourself in Antonia’s shoes. Would you accept this from your partner? (P.S. If you said yes, you have bigger problems in life than following real people’s relationships.)  We know Antonia accepted this role to some extent because we have evidence she attended events with Luke over the summer. So, what the fuck?

In my opinion, Luke’s IG story is a defining moment in the Lukola narrative, but one that was overlooked in June and one that continues to be overlooked – and ignored – now.

Luke’s character is telling Nicola’s character he won’t let another woman ruin their evening.

Let me repeat that again for you:  Luke’s character is telling Nicola’s character he won’t let another woman ruin their evening.

Now wrap your head around that.

[sweetiepeabob]

Pro basketball player Steve seeing a video of Rockstar Eddie at a concert. A song starts and the crowd is yelling and Eddie reaches down with his free hand, grabs himself, and screams "suck my dick!"

Half the crowd yells it with him, the other half just fucking yells. Steve watches the video like seven fucking times, his cheeks getting warmer and warmer each time until he decides to do something stupid.

Rockstar Eddie scrolling mindlessly and seeing a video of himself on stage, so he clicks it only to watch himself scream "suck my dick!" Followed by a video of steve spliced after it. It's just his face, his hair is a fucking mess, his cheeks all pretty and pink and he looks fucking distraught as he says "just give me one chance. One fucking chance." And then he covers his face with his hands and snorts into them, laughing as the video cuts off.

Eddie's heart flutters as he watches it a few more times. Pretty Basketball Boy Steve fucking Harrington just posted a fucking video practically begging to suck his dick. Eddie smirks at his phone. Who is he to deny a pretty boy begging so sweetly? He goes to Steve's profile and types out a message. Dropping his phone on his stomach as he laughs.

Steve opens the message with shakey hands to see:

Shoot your shot pretty boy. 🏀😉

It takes Steve half an hour, but he send back a restaurant name and a time. His palms sweating, cheeks hot.

Eddie answers immediately with:

It's a date. See you there sweetheart.

Steve falls face forward onto his bed, for once in his life thankful for his lack of impulse control.

[crushpunky]

the doubts get to drew

masterlist | actress!reader masterlist

based on this ask. sister read to this + featuring joe burrow because CROSSOVER <3. warning: relationship insecurities + angst

Drew lounged on the couch, y/n’s feet resting in his lap as she scrolled through her phone, the two of them basking in each other's presence. Drew watched how the sunset cast colors along y/n’s silhouette, highlighting her face in a beautiful golden glow. As Drew gazed upon y/n lovingly, Charleston curled up in the sliver of couch between y/n and Drew, the dog’s eyes heavy from a long day of dutifully accompanying his owners. Just as Charleston’s eyes were about to flutter closed, a loud giggle reverberated throughout the room.

Y/n tossed her head back as she laughed, her shoulders rising and falling with each breath. Drew cracked a small smile.

“What?” Drew said with a breathy laugh.

“It’s… something stupid Madelyn sent me.” Y/n said brushing Drew off. Drew quirked a brow, looking at her curiously before y/n eventually handed him her phone. As he took it, y/n moved to sit next to him, her head perched on his shoulder as he watched the TikTok she’d pulled up.

It was a video of two guys interviewing a third guy who Drew immediately recognized as a football player. He lounged on the couch with a sort of effortless cool, long legs in front of him and hair resting perfectly atop his head.

“Is that, um, that one guy?” Drew asked as he pointed to the football player.

“Joe Burrow, uh, yeah.” Y/n said with a small laugh. Out of the corner of his eye, Drew noticed y/n doing her best to suppress a grin as the two of them continued to watch the video.

“So, what’re you watching lately?” One of the interviewers asked, to which Joe let out a small chuckle.

“I’m watching a little bit of everything right now,” Joe said. “I’ve got a lot to catch up on now that it’s the offseason, but, uh, last night I watched ‘The Substance’.”

“Yeah? Good?” The interviewer asked.

“Yeah, it was great.” Joe smiled. “I— this is a little embarrassing— I actually just finished watching Outer Banks, so I guess I went on a little bit of a y/n y/ln marathon.”

The interviewers (and y/n) started laughing as a flustered expression spread across Joe’s face, a twinge of pink flooding his cheeks. Drew watched quietly, chewing slightly on his bottom lip.

“Big y/n y/ln fan?” One of the interviewers teased, to which Joe’s cheeks grew impossibly more red.

“Uh, yeah, I guess.” Joe chuckled, running a hand through his hair, a perfect curl falling atop his forehead. “She’s a very talented, beautiful lady.”

“Is this you shooting your shot?” The interviewer asked. Drew swore his heart skipped a beat, his teeth biting sharply into his bottom lip.

“Oh no, no, no,” Joe said quickly, clearing his throat as his tone returned to his usual seriousness, “but I am a fan of her work.”

And then the video ended.

Y/n elbowed Drew, an excited grin on her face. Drew looked away from the phone, blinking rapidly before flashing y/n a small smile.

“Isn’t that just so funny?” Y/n said. “Big, bad Mr. Football is a fan of me?”

Drew let out a small, breathy chuckle, rubbing his hand along his jaw. He felt an odd sinking in his stomach, a sort of hollowness that knocked the breath from his lungs. A sort of feeling that remained in him even after he and y/n had showered and gotten ready for bed. A sort of feeling that continued as he climbed into bed.

He knew it was stupid to let his mind wander like this. To think of possibilities and impossibilities, his mind blurring the lines between the two as he felt himself begin to spiral. Y/n was a woman skilled beyond belief, one gifted with an incomparable talent. Joe was a man at the top of his game, one of the best at what he does… was that not what y/n, a woman so unlike any other, deserved? Did she not deserve better? Did she not deserve the best?

Drew also couldn’t shake the unabashed nature of Joe, so sure and almost unflinching of his admiration of y/n— even if it was (supposedly) strictly friendly. Didn’t she deserve that too? Someone who was so open, so loud about their adoration of her? Drew certainly wasn’t ashamed of his love for y/n, but he had also been the one to keep their relationship a secret for nearly a year. Sure, she’d agreed that that was the best move, but what if that wasn’t how she really felt? What if she wanted someone to scream and shout from the rooftops about their love for her? What if she wanted someone that—

“Drew?” Y/n’s voice cut through the quiet of their bedroom. Drew shook his head quickly, clearing his thoughts.

“Yeah?” Drew said, clearing his throat. Y/n’s brows were pulled together as she eyed him up and down, immediately recognizing the different attitude that adorned his features. Where his eyes were usually happy and full of life (even so late at night), his icy blues were glazed with a sense of sadness and refused to meet her own. His hands that always pulled her closer as the two of them got in bed remained in his lap, fiddling with his rings aimlessly.

“What’s up?” Y/n asked, reaching out to run her fingers through his grown out hair, scratching his scalp gently.

“Nothin’,” Drew shrugged. Y/n sighed, moving her hand to cup Drew’s jaw before turning his face to face her. Drew’s eyes fluttered closed as he let out a shaky exhale.

“Please don’t lie.” Y/n murmured, frowning as she rubbed her thumb along Drew’s jaw. 

“I just…” Drew sighed, his eyes opening slowly to meet hers hesitantly. “I’ve been thinking about things— about us— and I… I feel like I’m not enough for you. Like you deserve better. More.”

Y/n’s heart broke as she let out a breathy, involuntary gasp. Drew’s bottom lip trembled slightly before he sucked it between his teeth, chewing on it as his cheeks flushed.

“Drew…” Y/n whispered, scooting closer to him on the bed. She brought her other hand up to cup the other side of his face, noticing the glassiness in his eyes as he looked back at her.

“W– Why do you think that?” Y/n asked, her gaze earnest. Drew sighed, his brows furrowing as he took in a sharp breath.

“I– it’s just…” Drew exhaled. “You are the most talented, beautiful, perfect woman in the entire world and you deserve the best. You deserve someone who is perfect in every way that you are.”

“No, no, no.” Y/n shook her head, swiping her thumb against the skin of Drew’s cheekbone.

“Yes, yes you do,” Drew said, “and I’m just not enough—”

“No!” Y/n said, her voice sharp. “That is such bullshit, Drew Starkey.”

“It’s not—” Drew began.

“You are—” Y/n’s voice suddenly broke, the tears that had been threatening to spill out beginning to fall. “So ‘enough’ it fucking hurts. Hurts.”

Drew swallowed harshly, his hands moving to rest on y/n’s hips lightly, the tears on her face causing his chest to feel as if it was going to cave in.

“You are the love of my life and you are so much more than enough.” Y/n said. “There isn’t a single person in this whole entire world I would rather spend my life with. Nobody else I’d rather be with. Nobody else I’d rather grow old with. Nobody.”

Drew’s eyes squeezed together tightly as he bowed his head, y/n’s hands wrapping around his shoulders as he pressed his forehead to her shoulder. He let out a sob, turning to bury his nose into her neck and inhale deeply.

“I love you so much and I don’t want you to ever think you aren’t enough for me.” Y/n cried, pulling him closer as she rested her cheek atop his hair.

The two of them sat in bed, crying and holding tightly onto one another until their sniffles eventually subsided. Lifting his head, Drew met y/n’s gaze before she pressed a light kiss to his forehead.

“I love you.” Y/n murmured against Drew’s skin. He lifted his head, his eyelashes brushing against her cheek before their lips finally met.

“I love you.” Drew whispered.

“I love you so much.” Y/n whispered against Drew’s lips.

[steddieas-shegoes]

for @thefreakandthehair (and @vecnuthy and @wormdebut while we’re at it) because sometimes you help a baseball player through French class so they can stay on the team and then they end up on the Savannah bananas and you decide to put the fictional men into situations about it *shrugs*

Eddie was going to have to transfer out of this class. This was one of his easiest classes and it was filled with every jock on campus attempting to fill their foreign language requirement with French.

And they were all failing. And annoying. And obnoxious.

And a few of them were also hot.

But Eddie wasn’t gonna focus on that!

He was gonna finish today’s assignment and then head straight to the advising office to find another class that worked with his work schedule.

“Hey,” the guy next to him whispered as the teacher droned on about conjugating verbs. “Do you have any idea what the fuck the homework was?”

Eddie turned to glare at the person, but his face dropped when he noticed who it was.

The campus celebrity: Steve Harrington.

Couldn’t quite make it on the college baseball team, but managed to make the sort-of professional, but mostly joke team Hawkins Hooligans.

Eddie didn’t like sports, never had. He could appreciate that it took skill and whatnot, but he didn’t care much to watch it or make celebrities of people who were just really good at one very specific thing usually involving some kind of ball. But he could appreciate a joke. And this team had jokes.

Steve was actually apparently good enough to play pro, had even been scouted by the MLB his senior year of high school. One week before his professional tryout, he tore a muscle in his shoulder, had to sit for three months and had to do physical therapy for another three, and voila! No pro ball for him. No college either since he missed spring training.

But he still had skill, and he still had a father with a lot of pull in the business, even if it wasn’t quite enough to get him on the Yankees or whatever.

So he was biding his time on the Hooligans until next year when he could try out for the college team again, maybe increase his chances of a real pro career.

Eddie definitely hadn’t watched videos of him during their first few games of the season where they faced the Indy Idols and the Chicago Charades.

He definitely hadn’t gotten a weird flutter in his stomach when Steve had been the one to lip sync to Hot For Teacher while pretending his bat was a guitar.

He definitely didn’t have a crush on Steve.

“Uh. Dude?” Steve asked him again, shaking him out of his thoughts.

“Yeah. It was the study guide for the first quiz. Not due until next class though,” he whispered back.

“Oh. Thanks.”

Eddie turned his attention back to the professor, not really needing to pay attention since he already knew quite a bit of French.

A tap on his shoulder made him yelp, and the entire room turned to him. He waved apologetically before turning to Steve with a murderous look.

“What?” He hissed out.

“Do you understand this?”

“Yes and you probably would too if you stopped talking to me.”

Eddie was ignoring the voice in his head screaming at him to let Steve keep talking to him for as long as he wanted.

“I don’t think that’s it,” Steve huffed before sitting back in his seat and folding his arms across his chest. He mumbled something else that sounded like ‘I’m just stupid’ but Eddie couldn’t be 100% sure.

“A lot of this stuff is just English spelled a little differently.” Eddie sighed. “You could almost definitely figure it out if you took some notes.”

“Yeah, probably.”

Eddie’s brows scrunched together as he glanced at Steve’s red face.

Hm. There was definitely something to unpack here.

“You can borrow mine if you want,” Eddie offered as he watched the professor switch slides on the presentation. “I don’t really need them until the final.”

“Oh!” Steve sounded genuinely surprised by his offer, like he hadn’t been basically asking for help only a moment ago. “You don’t have to do that. I mean, it wouldn’t do much good for me anyway.”

“What do you mean?” Steve had Eddie’s full attention now.

“I’m. I-“ Steve sighed. “I’m dyslexic, man. Reading’s hard for me.”

Well, fuck. Eddie felt like an asshole now.

“Oh.” Eddie looked down at his scribbled notes, cringing at the thought of someone else trying to read them, let alone someone who already struggled with reading from a printed page. “Yeah, my handwriting is shit so it’d probably be useless to you. Shit, it’s almost useless to me.”

Steve snorted, immediately covering his mouth to avoid any more noise from escaping. Eddie could see he was still smiling though. His eyes were very expressive.

“Don’t you have accommodations?” Eddie asked him.

“Nah, my dad doesn’t believe it’s a problem.” Steve rolled his eyes. “Said I just need to focus more and it’ll ‘work itself out.’”

“He sounds like he’s a lot of fun at parties.”

Steve snorted again. “Yeah, a blast.”

“So you aren’t a natural at French?”

Steve shook his head. “I’m barely a natural at English.”

“I could help you?” Eddie was an idiot. An idiot with a crush on someone who would never be interested in anything he had to offer except tutoring.

“Help me? You’d help me?” Steve seemed eager, maybe a little desperate.

Eddie kinda liked that.

“I mean, yeah. If you’re actually willing to put in the work and not expect me to just do the work for you.”

Steve smiled. God, that was a nice smile. Eddie was absolutely fucked.

“I work well with a reward system,” he smirked. “If you’re willing.”

Eddie’s eyes widened momentarily as the realization sunk in that he’d just been flirted with.

By Steve Harrington.

“Oh, I can definitely work with that.”

Steve nodded once, grinned at Eddie as he picked up his pen and ripped off a small piece of his unused notebook paper. He scribbled something down and folded it once before handing it to Eddie.

“Let me know when I need to show up, Eds.”

Eddie unfolded the paper and nearly dropped it.

Stevie H. 555-555-0086 My dorm at 7? No clothes required

When Eddie looked back up, Steve was facing the front, seemingly paying attention to the lecture.

Eddie quickly pulled his phone from his pocket and put Steve’s contact info in. He could wait until after class to send him a text. He could.

Instead, he typed out something quick to hold them both over until later.

Studying naked is my favorite thing 😉

Steve’s knee nudged against his in response.

Maybe Eddie wouldn’t take that trip to advising after all.

And if he was featured on the next TikTok for the Hawkins Hooligans, with Steve fake serenading him in the stands, nobody had to know he didn’t really like sports.

He liked Steve, though. Even when Steve actually managed to play real competitive baseball. Even when Steve managed to get a spot on the Cubs.

Especially when Steve proposed to him during a game in maybe the worst recorded French of all time.

[izzih22]

I remembering watching an old Azzi fudd video of her saying she used to have asthma but thinks she’s grown out of it since it’s been so many years since she’s had an asthma attack. You should do a one shot where she has one during a workout practice or game and Paige freaking out or something like that 😂 worried and protective p is my fav

The Air Between Us

Note: I actually have severe Asthma just a little fun fact😂

The gym was filled with the usual echoes of basketballs hitting the floor, sneakers squeaking, and the sharp whistles of the coaching staff cutting through the noise. It was just another intense UConn practice, the kind that left players gasping for air and pushing through the burn.

Paige had always thrived in these kinds of moments—high-stakes, high-speed, high-energy. But today, she was tuned in for an entirely different reason.

Azzi was on the other side of the court, her movements crisp and fluid as always, but something in Paige’s gut kept her gaze trained a little longer than usual. She chalked it up to love—Azzi just looked too damn good flying down the court—but something else flickered behind Paige’s eyes. A deeper instinct, an old one.

She shook it off and turned back to her own drill.

Azzi had told her, years ago, that she’d outgrown her asthma. “Haven’t had an attack since I was 17,” she’d said with that soft smile. Paige had believed her. Of course she had. Why wouldn’t she?

But now, Azzi’s steps looked… off. Slightly delayed. Her hand drifted to her chest for a moment, brushing against her practice jersey. Paige narrowed her eyes.

“Ten more sprints!” Coach bellowed, oblivious.

Azzi lined up like everyone else, wiping sweat from her brow. But the way her chest was rising and falling—it wasn’t right. It was too fast. Too shallow.

Paige didn’t even pretend to start the sprint. She turned, fully, and watched Azzi.

Two sprints in, Azzi staggered.

Paige stomach plummeted

“Azzi,” she called, tone sharp.

Azzi didn’t respond.

“Azzi!” Paige shouted, this time louder, already jogging toward her.

Azzi bent over, hands on her knees. The next breath she took was ragged and wheezy. The sound cut through Paige like a knife.

Then she went down.

“Shit—move!” Paige yelled as her teammates froze. She was at Azzi’s side in a second, dropping to her knees. “Hey, hey, I’m right here.”

Azzi’s eyes were wide. Terrified. Her hand clawed weakly at her chest.

“I can’t—I can’t breathe,” she gasped, voice barely audible.

Paige cupped her face. “Baby, look at me. Look at me.” Her own heart was hammering. Her head was spinning. But Azzi needed her calm. Azzi needed her strong.

“Someone call the trainer! Now!” Paige barked over her shoulder, but she didn’t look away from Azzi.

“Breathe with me, okay? Just try. In through your nose, slow. You’re okay. You’re safe.”

Azzi’s eyes fluttered, and a tear slid down her cheek. Her whole body was shaking.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, I’ve got you,” Paige whispered, voice cracking.

Memories flooded her—Azzi at 16, curled up in her arms after a school tournament when an asthma attack hit her out of nowhere. Paige holding her, whispering the same words, praying to every god that Azzi would just breathe.

It was like being thrown back in time.

“Where’s the damn inhaler?” Paige asked the trainer as he ran over, med kit in hand. He fumbled before pulling it free and placing it in Paige’s palm.

She did it herself, holding Azzi gently, guiding the inhaler to her lips.

“Deep breath, baby. I’ve got you.”

It took a few minutes—agonizing, terrifying minutes—but eventually, Azzi’s breathing began to even out. Her chest rose and fell more naturally. Her fingers stopped trembling.

“You’re okay,” Paige kept whispering, over and over, forehead pressed to Azzi’s. “You’re okay.”

The gym was silent now. The team had gathered around at a distance, some with wide eyes, others with tears. No one had ever seen Paige like this—panicked, frantic, unraveling.

But with Azzi in her arms, she didn’t care. She’d fall apart for her a thousand times if it meant keeping her safe.

Once Azzi was stable, the trainer gave the nod. “She’s okay. We’ll follow up, but she’s okay.”

Paige let out a breath like she hadn’t taken one in an hour. Azzi was leaning into her now, tired and emotional, cheeks wet and flushed.

“I didn’t know it’d come back,” Azzi whispered hoarsely.

Paige cradled her close. “It doesn’t matter. I’ve got you. Always.”

Azzi sniffled, and then—barely a whisper—“I was so scared.”

“I know, baby. Me too.”

A beat of silence passed, and then Azzi mumbled, “I didn’t want to let anyone see me like that. Not like this. Not after everything.”

“You’re the strongest person I know,” Paige said fiercely. “This doesn’t change that. You hear me? You could collapse in my arms a hundred times and I’d still think you’re the most incredible person I’ve ever met.”

Azzi tried to laugh but it came out watery. “You’re biased.”

“Damn right I am.”

Paige leaned in and kissed her temple, her jaw, then her lips. “You’re mine. That’s my job—to catch you. You don’t have to hide anything from me.”

Azzi melted into her, finally letting the exhaustion take over.

And as Paige held her in the center of the gym floor, surrounded by teammates and silence and the fading echo of chaos, all she could think about was how fiercely she loved this girl. How fiercely she always had.

And how she would never, ever stop.

[rafesteddy]

can we see hockey rafe get jealous when pop star reader has to do a intimate music video with another male costar?!

Hi bb!!!! Ahhh of course 🤭🩷💕

+18 -> smut | rafe is a hockey player for the LA King’s and his gf (reader) is a popstar 💕🤭

𝓱𝓸𝓬𝓴𝓮𝔂!𝓻𝓪𝓯𝓮 𝓬𝓪𝓶𝓮𝓻𝓸𝓷 𝔁 𝓯𝓮𝓶𝓪𝓵𝓮 𝓹𝓸𝓹𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓻!𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻

c/w: ownership, pet names, swearing, heavy praise, possessive rafe, unprotected p in v, multiple orgasms, rafe talks you through it, overstim., pov shift for the smut, + female oral receiving

*world’s okayest goalie = kelce*

3K

𝓻𝓪𝓯𝓮’𝓼 𝓹𝓱𝓸𝓷𝓮 𖤐ᝰ.ᐟ𖦹₊⊹

𝓻𝓪𝓯𝓮’𝓼 𝓹𝓸𝓿 𖤐ᝰ.ᐟ𖦹₊⊹

I’ve made a mistake. I should’ve stayed outside. Let someone else deliver this. I never should’ve walked in because—there she is.

My girl. The love of my life. My everything. Looking like that… Fuck me.

She looks like an angel and sin all twisted together, just dancing, loose and casual, like she has no idea she’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my whole fucking life. She hasn’t seen me yet. Which, in the large scheme of things, is probably a good thing because now I’m watchin’ her like I might rip someone’s head off. Especially his.

He’s sittin’ across the set in a chair like he owns it, legs spread and elbows on his knees, pretending to scroll on his phone, but I can see right through it. He’s not texting. He’s watching her, eyes tracking her like he’s trying not to stare but doing a terrible fucking job of it. He bites his cheek and glances around like he’s trying to play it cool.

He’s got that look… the kind reserved for me. For my face. For my eyes when I look at my girl.

I know what she does to people. She walks into a room, and everything shifts. She’s cute, sexy, and sweet, all wrapped in one. I swear she has no idea what she does when she smiles at someone. When she tips her head, her eyes all twinkly. God forbid she laughs… It’ll be game over.

She still hasn’t noticed me, but he has—and he’s not lookin’ away. His smirk? Fuckin’ smug. I could strangle him.

‘Cause that’s not fucking insane. What the fuck am I saying?

I take a deep breath, looking up at the ceiling, the sweat of my palms marrying with the condensation on her drink. I clench my jaw and force myself to breathe.

I’m not insecure. I’m not. I know she loves me, but watching some golden-boy, ex-football-playing Abercrombie reject eye-fuck her on set… Yeah. Yeah, I’m losin’ it. He shifts in his seat, slow and casual, but I swear, if he adjusts his pants one more time while looking at her, I’m—

“Baby!” She bubbles, and before I can even process the whiplash of my dark thoughts and her noticing me, I’ve got an arm around her waist and my mouth on hers. Hard. Not gentle, not slow… just mine. 

Her nails scratch into my hair, and her chest presses flush against mine. She melts into it instantly, humming softly into my mouth. She smiles against my lips, making my stomach flutter.

“Hey, baby,” she whispers, breathless and sweet. “I missed you.” 

I pull back just enough to look at her, my hands still firm on her waist, and I know I can’t hold her forever, but I’m not letting go ‘til she makes me. “Missed you, too, princess.”

A voice from the front of the set suddenly cuts through the crowd, making that uneasy feeling that was eased by my girl creep back in.

“Alright! Places!”

She rises on her tiptoes, pressing a soft and sweet kiss on my lips, contrasting comedically with the dark feelings churning inside me.

“Is this for me?” She asks, hurried but thankful.

“Hmm? Umm… Yeah, pretty,” I smile as I pass her her drink before pulling her in for one last hug, my eyes locked on his and my lips pressed against her forehead, my hand cupping her ass, squeezing just enough to show him I can.

“Are you going to stay for a while?” She asks, looking up at me hopefully, and although it might very well kill me, I nod.

“Wish me luck?”

“Good luck, baby,” I hum, my eyes on her as she turns. I smack her ass lightly as she bounces off, and she yelps, shooting me a grin over her shoulder like I’m the funniest man alive.

Connor watches the whole thing, rolling his eyes slightly before looking down at his watch, adjusting it, and his sleeves before stepping into the fake elevator.

He stands taller the closer she gets, his broad chest framed perfectly, his dark tie straightened with a flick of his wrist, and he smiles down at her, mumbling something I didn’t catch, which again, is probably for the best.

This is fine.

I’m fine.

Everything’s fine.

They take their places, and the second the track starts to pour through the speakers everything changes. She steps in closer, resting her hand on his chest as she sings along with her track.

I feel it coil in my gut—something cold, sharp, and ugly. The same flash of red that I get during a game that tells me, without hesitation, that if someone gets in my way or takes what’s mine, there’s going to be blood on my hands. But I can’t fucking act on it.

She’s being a professional. I trust her with every single thing I have. But that doesn’t stop me from wanting to break something. And I know he knows that.

He’s pushing it… Testing me. Watching me with the corners of his eyes like he wants to see what happens if he stares a little too long. Touches a little too slow.

He backs her up into the elevator wall in choreographed movement as his arm slides around her waist, retracing my tracks like my hands weren’t just there. His hand presses into her, arching her back slightly as she delivers the next line closer than I ever thought another man would get. Close enough to have me gripping the arms of the chair like a lifeline.

She smiles for the camera—sharp and wicked. Fuck, she’s good at this. Too fuckin’ good. His hands are all over her: down her ribs, across her hip, threatening to go lower. My knuckles go white, and my jaw aches.

She stiffens, just barely. Her smile doesn’t reach quite as far as it would if she was with me.

Ding.

The lift comes to a fake halt, and they break away, their eyes on the lot number above the door. A smug smile pulls on his lips as she reaches up, drawing him out of the elevator by his tie. He licks his lips as he looks down at hers in desperation, getting off on their interaction. She might be acting, but he’s not. And I can’t stop watching… This is her job. Her scene. Her art… It’s killing me.

“What do we think? Another take?” the director calls out.

My eyes lower to my hands, loosening on the chair as my heart and mind race.

I know I’m overreacting. I look up, ready to swallow my pride, and as I do, she grabs my shirt, tugging me to my feet, kissing me hard, warm and full of fire. Nothing sweet about it. She kisses me like she’s trying to take something back. Like she wants to erase every second of someone else’s hands on her.

“No, we’re good,” she smiles.

She turns her attention back to me, her beautiful eyes locked on mine.

“Was it that obvious?” I mumble, just for her.

“Painfully.”

I suck my teeth, holding back my smirk. I can tell she’s not mad; she knows me too well. “I was tryin’ to be cool.”

“Mhmm…” She teases as her thumb brushes across my cheek. “Thank you for playin’ nice.”

“Anything for you, princess.”

“You wanna get out of here? Just for a bit? I’ve got a break. We could get some air or something,” she asks, leaning a little closer, her hot skin warming her perfume, making my brain lag.

“Of course, sweetheart.”

I rest my hand on her back and guide her toward the hallway, my grip saying what I can’t say out loud. And right as I feel the calm settle in again, I see him moving toward us, still trying. I don’t say a word, just look back, glaring at him, letting him know he’s done.

“Rafe…” She whispers and giggles. “Stop, baby.”

“Stop what, princess?” I say, all fake innocence, making her laugh a little more.

“Stop what, princess?” She mimics as she rolls her pretty eyes, doing her best impression of me.

She gasps as I scoop her up, taking her into my arms. She throws hers around my neck, wrapping her legs around my waist, snuggling in. 

“You’re lucky I didn’t throw you over my shoulder,” I mutter playfully.

She turns into me, letting her cheek brush against mine, making my heart race.

“I love it when you get like this,” she whispers, her mouth grazing my ear, making chills fall down my spine. “Jealous… Possessive—”

“Possessive,” I echo, cutting her off. “Fuck, baby. You haven’t seen possessive yet.”

She grins—that smile I’d kill for.

“How much time do I get with you?”

“Thirty minutes.”

Shit. She gasps yet again—half startled, half turned on—as I turn fast, pulling her into the first room I can see, pressing her back against the door, thumb grazing her jaw, voice low and lazy, already imagining the words playing on my tongue. “You’ve got thirty minutes. I’ll ruin you in ten… and spend the next twenty showin’ you no one else’ll ever fuck you or love you the way I do.”

𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓼’𝓼 𝓹𝓸𝓿 𖤐ᝰ.ᐟ𖦹₊⊹

Rafe doesn’t waste a second, sliding the lock into place, making your pulse spike. He peels his shirt off his muscular body. “Off, baby,” he mumbles, tugging on your shirt, working it over your head before you can respond, hungry and desperate to use all the time he has, making quick work of your clothes like he has something to prove, lifting you onto the meeting room table before laying you back. 

His lips crash into yours–big hands roaming your body–hot, urgent, and possessive. He reaches between the two of you, popping open the buttons of his jeans as his tongue swirls with yours, making your mind hazy already. 

He tugs down your shorts and rips off your panties, dropping to his knees, that warmth of his breath hitting your pussy, making you suck in a breath. “Oh my god, Rafe–” Your words turn into a breathy whine as his mouth finds you, making your head fall back. 

Rafe groans into your heat, his skilled tongue working slowly, opening you further when he circles two thick fingers around your drooling hole, pushing them inside. 

“Fuck,” you cry as he sucks on your clit; fingers curling inside you, finding that spot that makes your toes curl. Your heart races fast, chest rising and falling quickly as your fingers scratch and twist into his hair, pulling him closer, grinding your greedy pussy against his face. 

“Sh-Shit–” You stammer as your climax hits you hard and fast, making your muscles tremble, but he doesn’t stop. 

“Already, princess?” He taunts, rubbing his thumb along his plump bottom lip, sucking it clean like his favorite dessert. His voice is warm, his smile smug, his beautiful blue eyes looking down at you as he tilts in, hovering over your lips. “Fuck, baby. That was fast, huh?” He asks as he grabs his cock in his fist, running it through your soaked folds, making your muscles jump. Your eyes double as he pushes into you, filling you completely, groaning against your lips at the feeling. 

“You know me so well–” You whisper breathlessly as he strokes into you at the perfect pace. 

“Love your body, princess. Every inch of you,” he murmurs, brushing your hair from your face as he thrusts a little deeper. “‘Course I know you well. You’re my favorite thing in the whole fuckin’ world. Love taking care of my girl,” he whispers, kissing your forehead, his gentle love above contrasting his punishing thrusts below, your wet, hot heat squelching with each push of his toned hips. “I want these perfect lips sayin’ my name for the rest of my life–”

Rafe wraps his arms around you, lifting you slightly, changing the angle enough to get you good and loud. His thrusts grow rougher, more focused, the tension from before rolling off him as he watches you get closer and closer to cumming again.

He presses his lips against your ear, a particularly rough thrust leaving you throwing your hand over your mouth to hold back your cries of pleasure, making him smirk. 

“Gotta be quiet, sweetheart,” he warns, the smugness dripping from every syllable.

“—Feels so good,” you pout as your voice breaks, bottom lip trembling from the pleasure alone. 

“Is that right?” Rafe murmurs, dragging his lips along your jaw. “That’s the point, pretty.”

Rafe grinds his hips into you slow and deep, his cock thick and hot as it stretches you wide. “Shit,” he groans, dropping his forehead to yours, hips slapping against the backs of your thighs. The table creaks beneath you, rocking slightly with the force of his big body fucking into yours.

He snakes a hand between you, pressing his fingers against your clit, ghosting little circles, making you suck your lip between your teeth. “C’mon, sweetheart. Give it to me again,” he coaxes, your body quickly giving way. “That’s it. Just like that,” he praises, watching you unravel underneath him. “I wanna hear it, baby. I want everyone outside that door to know exactly who makes you cum like this.”

“You said be quiet,” you laugh airily, barely holding yourself together as his movements get messy. 

“Yeah, well…” He grunts, hips jerking harder. “You makin’ those sounds? Sayin’ my name like that? We both know I’m full of shit–” Your back arches off the table, mouth falling open as he slams into you one last time, your walls fluttering around him as you sob out his name, high and broken.

Rafe pulls himself out, flipping you and bending you over, bracing yourself on trembling arms, legs spread, ass tilted just the way he loves. The cool air rushes over your skin for only a second before he’s behind you again, one hand gripping your waist, the other sliding under your thigh, lifting your leg on the table.

He pushes back into you in one hard stroke, both of you gasping in sync—your fingernails scratching into the wood, his breath catching in his throat as your body squeezes him tight.

“Shittt,” he groans, “I’m so deep. You feel how deep I am?” Your head falls between your shoulders–unable to form a coherent thought as he thrusts into you again and again. You nod feebly, crying out when he slaps your ass.

Every muscle in his body goes rigid as he buries himself to the hilt, groaning low and rough as he leans forward, pulling himself into your neck, spilling inside you, filling you up. His breath is hot and fast against your shoulder, cock throbbing inside you as a low chuckle rumbles in his broad chest. 

You rest your cheek on the cool wooden tabletop in exhaustion, looking up at Rafe as he pulls back, looking down at you with a smile. “So fucking pretty like this, baby,” he whispers. 

Rafe hisses out a breath as he drags his length out nice and slow. He grabs your hips, turning you around to face him. Leaning down, he captures your lips in a soft, passionate kiss.

His fingers curl around your hips, lifting you onto the table, sitting you down as his tongue slides against yours. His big hands roam your body, cupping your breasts, teasing your nipples with the rough pads of his fingers as you whimper into his mouth.

The tip of his fingers traces the indentation left behind from your tight top. He dips his head down, wrapping his lips around your supple skin, sucking enough to leave a mark behind that you’ll cover back up with lace. 

“That’s mine,” he murmurs. “Only I get to see that.”

You do your best to catch your breath as he kisses down your trembling body. Tears of pleasure slide down your cheeks as the warmth of his breath hits your cunt. His finger dips through the slick mess of your shared release, swirling lazily as he watches the pretty changes in your face. 

“Don’t think I could love you more,” he mutters, kissing your thigh, then again lower. “All mine.” You answer with a whimper, hips twitching as he slips the mess back inside you again. 

“Rafe–” You gasp and moan as he works them into you again, tongue flicking teasingly across your pearl. 

“You didn’t think I was done, did you? I’ve still got some time–”

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