#//you shot off your mouth AND LOOK WHERE IT GOT YOU!

[nymphomatique]

gold star student

professor!logan howlett x fem!reader

⋆·˚ ༘ * one bad grade is one too many, so you ask one professor logan howlett, phd. for some extra credit after class. inspired by this art.

cw: reader lowkey has undiagnosed adhd, u want that cookie so effing bad, oral (m & f), praise, some degradation, swearing (it’s logan), shaky power dynamics so it can be considered dub-con, non specific age gap, college aged reader, logan puts stickers on your face while you blow him, face slapping, semi-public sex, unprotected sex (wrap it up!!), finger sucking, spitting on the pussy, grey streak logan cause if he ain’t greying im not staying!!!, this is just me being horny idk what else to say i’m sorry yall

wc: 8k

❤︎ a/n: this was…. a labour of love to say the least. i hate the ending but fuck it we ball. enjoy <3

Ever since you were a child, anything and everything that had to do with academia had been the bane of your existence. Sitting at a desk for eight odd hours in a day wasn’t only grossly unappealing to you, but a mental challenge as well. You had found it hard to grasp onto concepts and new materials as well as the other kids, unable to focus on whatever spiel of the day your teacher went on about and still found yourself struggling in higher education. From kindergarten, to elementary, to middle school, to high school, up until now in your college years, you find that not only has your attention deficit gotten worse, but so has your motivation in academia in general. 

A floater student is what you would consider yourself, showing up to class once in a blue moon, rather busying yourself with doom scrolling in your dormitory or shopping off campus at the mall, only showing up during exam time and barely passing. your prognosis would be one of the many hyperactive disorders, but you never bothered to diagnose yourself officially. In high school, your parents didn’t make a huge deal of your grades, thanking a graceful god out there that you even got your diploma to begin with. At this age however, with tens of thousands of dollars being poured into your tuition, your mother and father have seemed to coil up even tighter in terms of frustration with your nonchalant attitude towards school. 

A report card from your fall semester riddled with C’s and D’s, emboldened and italicized as if to taunt you silently, was the final straw, the cussing you received was enough for a lifetime. At your parents' discretion, before the start of the semester you consulted with your academic advisor in suggestion of a course schedule that wasn’t a twelve hour day, and professors who would accommodate you with in the case of your late assignments and missing homework. 

All classes but one would be easy- you had been told. Your world history class and its professor had been the only one where you had been saddled with a hardball teacher, rate my professor describing one Logan Howlett, teacher of Modern World History in the Context of Classic Literature, as a man with a foul mouth and harsh grading asshole— with an excellent curriculum but horrible grade weighting, as described by your fellow student body, the mandatory attendance and participation accounting for twenty percent of your grade alone pulling a groan from you as your laptop screen stares back at you, the blue light emitting from it seemingly silently taunting you with the course course outline. Get used to looking at my screen. Three hours in an auditorium, every Wednesday and Friday for twelve weeks at nine in the morning with this douchebag.

You mentally prepare yourself for the exhaustion of the upcoming semester, shutting your laptop closed with a huff of annoyance before laying in bed, mentally preparing yourself for this seemingly infamous professor Howlett.

After a rather inadequate night of sleep, a zero sugar monster energy (gotta give in for the sake of your health where you can) and a double shot latte, you feel something that briefly resembles yet still distant from awake, you find yourself struggling to get comfortable in the stiff chairs in your lecture room. You’re glad you tucked yourself away in a seat in the corner, four rows back from the front, embarrassed that your peers are silently mocking your struggle. 

It’s some odd minutes to nine on the dot, and you’re rather proud of yourself for being able to make it minutes early rather than stumbling in twenty minutes late like you’re prone to doing. Face resting on your hand, cheek squishing your right eye closed, your left eye flits around the room to the other people present, and you wonder if anyone else is stuck in your current situation: burnt out student who didn’t have a choice but to take this class at the least convenient time possible, simply for your graduation credits. Unfortunate kismet, you think, if anybody else in this room also had the privilege to have been born with the unlucky gene you possess. 

Your eyes are heavy, the seconds tickering away at the speed of minutes, and you can’t help it when the last open eye you have flutters close. You hum to yourself, relishing at the feeling of finally being able to rest some more. the quiet shuffling of your classmates feet and the soft scrapings of their chairs, clock ticking so quietly that it barely registers in your mind. The ambient noise is like a blanket to you. It’s not more than five minutes, just a micro nap— you tell yourself, counting the seconds of each minute down silently. 45, 44, 43, 42, what minute is this?, 30, 29, 28, so tired, 22, 21, time to sleep…

Your eyes shoot open when you hear the auditorium door slam shut, blinking away softly the sleep in your eyes. your heart sinks for a minute and panic sets in— did you sleep through the whole class? On the first fucking day? You look around, eyes wide, and immediately sigh in relief when you’re greeted with a full hall. Conversely, you see everyone’s attention to the front of the class with materials out, so you trail your eyes to the front of the room and that’s when you see him, finally. Not his face yet, the wide expanse of his back and tail of his coiffed head facing you all instead. Your eyes trail down his body to his feet, clad in a pair of black combat boots, you can’t help but quirk up and eyebrow, bootcut jeans that seem to be worn in well, seemingly like they’re tailored to his long, very legs, then you see his jacket, which now you catch in time to see him taking it off to reveal a black t-shirt underneath and your breath hitches a bit. You can only see his triceps flexing as he maneuvers his jacket off, but you can just tell he’s covered in rippling muscle, his arms straining against the fabric of his shirt. You can’t help but wonder what he looks like, wondering if his face is as captivating as the rest of him. Your eyes flit over to the girl sitting two seats down from you, and you can’t help but smile a little at her expression, teeth chewing her bottom lip and eyes widened slightly and blinking in slow flutters, seemingly thinking the same things about this Professor Logan Howlett as you are; He’s obscenely sexy even though I haven’t even seen his face.

When you focus your attention back to the front, your face warms immediately upon finally seeing his– Professor Howlett’s face and fuck, you feel stupid for even thinking that he wouldn’t be even a fraction of attractive. His hair, oh god his hair, styled as if he just rolled out of bed and ran his hands through it once, maybe twice even, streaked with gray at his temples, peppering down into his sideburns and disappearing in his scruffy beard. His eyes are an enrapturing shade of hazel, almost brown, almost green, you squint a little to see the mix of hues better, cursing yourself for sitting so far away. His nose, button-like yet poses so masculine at the same time. His lips look so soft and kissable, framed perfectly by his facial hair as if it’s screaming at you to kiss there, to taste each other, let your tongues touch and whisper your deepest secrets to one another-

Gravelly and deep, his voice rouses you from your rather indulgent fantasy. “Good morning. Lively bunch this semester,” he quips and a quiet wave of laughter reverberates and echoes around you. Your chest tightens at the sound of his voice and you want to smack yourself silly for it. “Gonna spare you all the pointless introductions n’ ice breaking crap, yeah? We’ll go over the syllabus and get this show on the road.”

He’s curt, forward, doesn’t bite his tongue, you deduce. Not the jackass his reviews seem to pin him as, though it’s only the first class. They didn’t seem to mention how ruggedly handsome he was as well, you think and pull your lips taut as Professor Howlett, continues to read off the syllabus. Two essays, three quizzes, and a final reading comprehension exam. Attendance is mandatory Your eyes quickly flit to the back of your skull as he reads off that point. No makeups. No late work. No excuses. 

You feel your heart hammer in your chest a little, a sense of anxiety bubbling up in you at how much this class demands. It’s nerve wracking, super fucking discouraging to say the least given your track record, but you know you have no other choice but to commit fully and pass this class, so help your parents. You suppose you can find the motivation in a hot professor and at the very least, make an effort to roll out of bed and be presentable on the days you show up to his class. You exhale softly, hearing the shuffling of books and closing laptops to rouse you from your thoughts. 

“And don’t forget, first five chapters of tulip fever for next class,” his voice booms in the auditorium, fighting with the noise of students desperate to leave and head to their next class or back to their rooms. You flit your eyes towards your professor, arms crossed and muscles bulging against his shirt, casually leaned against his desk. His eyes meet yours for a moment and your breath hitches immediately. His brow quirks at you silently and you’re sure you might disintegrate on spot. You feel your face heat up and you break away the eye contact to rush out of the lecture, both exhausted and perpetually embarrassed, not having enough energy to handle feeling both. In your haste, you miss the way Logan's lip quirks up for a split second at you, rushing out the door with Tulip Fever and streaks of grey on your mind. 

You find you can’t keep your modern history professor off the brain since leaving the lecture hall that wednesday, ever so flustered. You thought about his thick arms back at your dorm, and how they might feel wrapped around you in a warm embrace. You thought about those graying temples, and the picture it would paint with his head between your thighs. You thought about him in your humanities class as your professor droned on about morality and its many philosophical perspectives, but you tune her voice out and think of his instead, wondering what it would sound like whispering sweet nothings in your ear. The level of yearning you’ve reached is bound to get you in trouble, hell it’s gotten you in trouble already— completely neglecting to finish the first five chapters of Tulip Fever like Professor Howlett had assigned, losing yourself in the work from your other classes. Friday had snuck up on you and you smacked your forehead for being so forgetful, the beginnings of discourage and a knot forming in your stomach. I’m a failure, I suck at this, I should drop out, I’m such a fucking idiot.

The thought of letting down a man you barely know has you berating yourself even further. You need to get a grip and quickly— he’s your teacher for God's sake. You suck in a breath, finding yourself sat in the same lecture hall your vivid fantasies found themselves being born in, laptop open as you’re frantically reading the Sparknotes summary minutes before class is set to start. Today, you chose a seat in the second row, still far off to the right side. You weren’t sure you could stay coherent with his gaze on you so heavy.  You tell yourself you picked this spot for a better learning experience, closer seats meaning less of a chance you fall prey to your fantasies, but deep down beyond the denial you knew better than to convince yourself of a lie like that. You sat upfront because you wanted to see Professor Howlett better, to pinpoint the hues of his eyes you couldn’t make out yesterday from so far behind. You wanted to trail your eyes up and down his muscular frame, taking snapshots of the hair on his forearms, the freckles on his thick knuckles, the veins trailing his big hands—

“Good morning, everyone,” a gruff voice speaks and you feel a ball of energy sits itself deep in your stomach, it’s him. You've missed the deep baritone of his voice, you realize. “Hope you all read up the chapters, yeah? We’ll be discussing ‘em today, and I am the asshole who picks on students to participate.” There’s a soft wave of grumbles from some, but your panic is quiet and you hope to a God in heaven somewhere that he doesn’t pick you, god knows you barely retained any information from your flash round of Sparknotes earlier.

“Like any book, the first few chapters were mostly exposition, character and scene setting stuff. Tell me, what does Sophia’s marriage and lack of heir signify to us in these times?” Professor Howlett asks, and you immediately avert your gaze to the grooves and scratches in the table in front of you. Please don’t pick me, please don’t pick me, please please please— “Yeah, you,” your head snaps up, heart hammering in your chest when you see him nod his head at some girl, some girl with too much fucking chest out, you spit, her hand raised high and smile plastered across her smug little face. Your brows pull together and you barely contain the urge to roll your eyes at her enthusiasm. 

“Thank you, Professor,” This fucking bi- “I think that- that while Cornelius and Sophia are often representative of the way marriage was a lot of the times something more transactional, her being unable to have a kid being a main problem- shows how a lot of times a marriage with no evidence of, um, consummation, is seen as practically null and void.” Your fist tenses against the desk at her answer.

“Little long winded, but yeah, good job..?” his voice lilts off, and you smile a bit knowing he doesn’t even remember her name. “Oh, um, Amber,” she sputters out. He nods at her response and continues asking questions about the book. You feel a little bad as class progresses, your unprovoked and unwarranted jealousy towards another woman over a man who’s simply an authority figure to you both, no matter how attractive, makes you cringe. What is he doing to you? 

“Good answers, guys. Glad you all did more than skim the book,” Professor Howlett muses, turning his back to face you all as he digs through his briefcase. You take this time to admire how broad his back looks, draped in a black polo shirt today that practically has you drooling. “The rest of you I didn’t pick on today aren’t unscathed unfortunately,” he says, a hint of amusement in his voice. He turns around and presents the stack of papers between his large hands to you all and he smirks, “Pop quiz.” 

A myriad of groans come crashing from all over the lecture hall right down to your ears and you silently join, hands falling down against your desk. You sincerely hope these weren’t going to be graded, praying that Professor Howlett possesses some sense of apologeticness, knowing that the definite zero percent you’d get on this would completely fuck over your overall average for the rest of the semester, subsequently giving your parents ample reason to rip you a fucking brand new one. 

Row by row, he passes a stack of papers for each student to pass down and he stops in front of you, seeing as you so conveniently sat at the end of the second row. “Nervous?” he asks, brow quirked and smug fucking look on his face as you look up at him. You quirk your eyebrow right back at him, “Hardly.” A group of papers fall in front of you and he breathes out a laugh, leaving you to pass papers to the next row. You lied like shit, you were insanely nervous, knowing you hadn’t retained a lick of information from your mini crash course nor the class’ discussion prior.

“No tech, no cheating. You guys know the drill, don’t make me catch you and have to chew you out. Twenty minutes and I’m picking ‘em up.” Logan says, walking down the aisle and back to his desk, his hulking frame leaning against his desk and his arms crossed up against his chest so tight that his biceps practically bulge out of his shirt. Or maybe, he’s just that toned, that any movement, minuscule or major, would have him threatening to rip out of his clothes. You’re practically fighting yourself in your seat, tearing your eyes away from his thick arms and heavy pectorals and down to your paper. 

It’s one page, front and back, ten questions. It wouldn’t be so bad had you actually read the book, considering you can’t even remember the name of the main character in the book. You bite your lip, trying so hard to rack your brain for something that resembles a coherent answer to these questions that will give you at least a 75%, knowing it wouldn’t skew your grade average completely off. What does Maria’s role stand to symbolize in the context of 1600’s Amsterdam?. You clench your  fist so hard around your pen you’re almost amazed that it doesn’t break under the pressure. You didn’t even remember a Maria in the book.

Twenty minutes of writing later, grasping at straws for potential points that would make you feel better than getting a big fat zero on your first quiz in this class, in his class, you’re walking to his desk to place your quiz in a pile with the rest of your peers, just as he’d instructed. You kept your eyes down the entire time, feeling too embarrassed to look at him after that silly excuse for banter you had attempted earlier. Hardly. Yeah fucking right. 

After your quiz, you had been dismissed from class, and you felt the anxiety set in almost immediately. The phone call you had with your parents that weekend over your classes and grades so far only worsened, the stern and subtly implied threat of coming back home to learn at a local college looming silently above you if you didn’t keep your grades up. You had obviously avoided mentioning the pop quiz you had, choosing not to set them ablaze at the mention of the fact that you most definitely failed that pop quiz. The stress of your grades instilled a new found productivity in you, in which you took initiative to read ahead of the assigned chapters and annotate as well as take notes for your modern history class, hoping to be prepared next time he’d ask a question. Your stomach churns at the thought of his praise, Good answer. Very good, kiddo. Like that idea. you imagined he’d say to you. You bite your lip as you study your western civilization notes, maybe he’d even indulge in you, call you his good girl, his good little student, something that Amber would never have above you. 

Monday and Tuesday went by uneventfully, as you completed your labs and started on your assignments when assigned. Tuesday night however, you had been anxious almost, or maybe excited— you weren’t sure, but you did know you wanted to be prepared for this class, to prove to Professor Howlett that you could handle his class, show him that you wouldn’t let him chew you up and spit him out so easily. You took the time before bed on that Tuesday to prepare your books in your bag, organize your notes, and even pick out an outfit, neatly folding it and leaving it on your desk chair. Grades be damned, you were beyond ready to prove everyone wrong, yourself included. 

You sat in the front row again, enraptured in the world of Tulip Fever, but really you would rather focus on Professor Howlett. He was all you thought about these days, especially at night when it was only you and the dark of your dorm to entertain you before bed. You hear a giggle next to you and you snap your head to the direction of the noise. Amber. A deep rumble sounds in front of you, someone clearing their throat. You look forward again and see your professor and your face heats up. “Welcome back to earth, sweetheart,” he muses, humour painted all over his face. Your eyes widen at the pet name he’s given you and you feel like sinking into your seat. “I need you here next time, yeah? Not in that pretty little head of yours,” he says, quiet enough so only you and the front two rows can hear. Your head spins. Pretty. He called you pretty. He continues his lecture like nothing else happened, leaving you dazed at his affection. His eyes flit to you briefly and he smiles, before walking back to the front of the class. 

Little moments like these pepper themselves throughout your lectures with Profess Howlett in between the assignments and lectures and raised hands. You’d catch him looking at the juncture of your breasts sometimes as you wore low cut tops, his lilting voice calling you precious pet names, sweetheart, kiddo, sweets. They all have your face warming. Heated gazes, stolen smiles, one off banter, you were convinced you were being delusional. One particular moment after class where you had asked for details on an assignment had you reeling for days. You went up to him after class to ask your question. His face was insanely close, you could smell the mint off his breath from the gum he was chewing during the lecture, feel his words fan your face, deep rumblings and focused glares as you were only inches away from his face. His lips, oh God his lips… so close, so soft looking, so pink, you had been so caught up in him the entire time. And he had noticed, his fingers coming up to your chip to raise your gaze. He did it wordlessly, eyeing you as you eyed him. His look daring you to say something. Challenge me. I dare you. But you didn’t— you couldn’t, you had tried to focus on something else, his musky woodsy scent, his greying stubble, anything, as he continued to explain your question to you. You walked out of his class that day with jello for legs, replaying the moment in your mind. 

Next class you had seen him he had given the assignments back, adorned with little gold stars on those who had grades higher than a B minus. Your paper had come back to you with an A minu, a little gold star next to your grade. “Boosts morale,” had been Logan’s explanation when a student had asked why the gold star. You smiled. Cute. 

You had felt like you finally found your groove, despite the hiccup you had at the beginning. Your first test of the semester approached, and you weren’t nervous, in fact you showed up to class early, getting a chance to get a good spot and watch Professor Howlett walk in and begin setting up. You had waved, a meek good morning in your own words and he returned a wink back. Your insides tugged at themselves. He had waltzed over to you in your seat, starting up conversation. “Nervous?” he asks, curt and short. You smile, “Hardly,” using your own words once more. “I’m gunning on a gold star. I studied extra hard.” Professor Howlett hums, smile on his face. “I look forward to seeing your work. I enjoy reading it,” he says. He leaves you with those words as he walks back to his desk, more students beginning to pepper in the classroom as the test hour approached. You had been so sure you did excellent on your test, studying for days and days beforehand. So when you got back your test, a C Minus staring back at you with a gut wrenching empty space next to your grade right where a star would be. Tears prick your eyes as you look at the grade, feeling so disappointed in yourself. This couldn’t be. It just couldn’t.

You had promptly stayed behind after class to speak to him, and it seemed like Amber had the same idea, her body close to his as she spoke lowly. She didn’t spare a glance back at you as she spoke to him, hand grazing his bicep as she walked away and past you. Your eyes rolled in your head and you walked up to Professor Howlett next. He’s in the middle of packing up his papers in his bag when you come up to him, and he glances up in acknowledgment before going back to what he’s doing. You breathe out and his brown quirks as he pauses and looks at you. “Yes?” he asks. “I… I would like to see you after class if possible to discuss my grades,” you say, fist curling and uncurling with nerves. ”Tomorrow afternoon come see me at my office,” he says, arms crossing. “Don’t be late. Don’t get your hopes up either,” he quirks. You chew your lip before sighing. “I’ll be there. On time.” 

And true to your word, you showed up promptly and on time. Your heart was hammering in your chest cavity so hard you felt like it would burst through your ribcage. Your lower lip found itself between your teeth, chewing at it tenderly. You had been staring at the mahogany colored door, finished with a shiny golden plaque, L. Howlett, PHD. carved within the surface of the precious metal. His name posed just as intimidating as he did. You’d been standing in front of his door for almost three minutes now, fingers skimming along the hem of your plaid skirt. The accompanying white tanktop and white cardigan hand made your subconscious intentions loud and clear, as some part of you, a delusional part of you, had hoped this school girl-esque get up would grant you some sort of leniency with Professor Howlett as you begged for him to give you a retake, a makeup assignment, something for God’s sake.

Any moment more of hesitancy and you would be late for your two o’clock appointment time, so you bring your knuckles up to the door to knock, twice in succession, when the door swings open in front of you. Your knuckle is almost met with Amber’s face, her shock seeing you just as evident as hers. She doesn’t let it linger however, as she casts a glance over her shoulder and muses a “Bye Professor. Thank you so much, I’ll see you in class Monday,” before looking back forward and right back at you, holding your gaze as she walks right out the door and past you, making sure her shoulder doesn’t miss yours. You scoff. Bitch. 

“Right on time. Come in,” he gestures, refusing to get up from his comfy looking office chair. As you walk around his office you take in the interior briefly. The mahogany furniture, the lingering smell of cigar smoke, evidence of his nasty habit sitting on top of an ashtray on his desk, the glass bar cart, adorned with various bottles of whiskey and gin, and a mini fridge sitting on its bottom shelf— filled with ice and garnish you assume. You eye his book cabinet, shelves stuffed with various literary titles, old and new, classic and contemporary. You find yourself impressed, but you shouldn’t be, his teaching— albeit rough, brutish sometimes even— is a testament to his passion towards books and literature. You smile a little as you sit down in the foam lined chair in front of his desk. You try not to think of who sat in it before you as you feel the residual warmth of it against your thighs. You take in Professor Logan, black t-shirt and dark blue jeans— casual, but damn if he made it look good. You eyed his arms, veiny and bulging out his shirt, before flickering your attention back to his face, framed by those greying temples you oh so loved.

“So?” He trails, redirecting his attention from his desktop to you. You swallow a little and sigh. “Um, I know that you said no… no retakes or anything, and I understand your answer if it’s a hard no,” you say, pausing to look at him to try and assess what he’s thinking, but you’re simply met with a raised brow and crossed arms as he leans back further in his chair. “But I… I was wondering if- Well, my parents, they said that If I have a grade lower than an A on my report card this semester I had to drop out and transfer locally, and I don’t want to make this a pity story but I… It’s only this class where I’m having trouble. And I know what you said but my last test really fucked my average and I-” your nervous ramblings are cut off by him raising his hand. Your lips clamp and you watch him, waiting for his impending words. He makes you sit in the silence and with your words, instead opening his desk drawer, rifling between what sounds like various loose pens and papers before taking a lighter out. Small, sliver, zippo style and engraved with meticulous swirls. He picks up the already cut cigar out the ashtray, placing it between his pink lips, and lights it— two experimental puffs of smoke floating your way and you get dizzy. 

“You don’t mind?” He asks only now, and you try not to roll your eyes and that façade of chivalry. “No,” you shake your head. “Thought so,” he smiles, smug. He puffs from the cigar once more before he places it down on the glass ashtray once again before he speaks up. “As it stands now if you tighten up for the rest of the semester you can pass my class with a B something, which don’t sound too bad to me, sweetheart.” Your gut twists with tension. A B isn’t what you need. You brows furrow and you open your mouth to speak, but he continues. “I would love to help you sweetheart, trust me I would. But that wouldn’t be fair to all the other students who come waltzing in here dressed just like you, begging for an A,” he drawls, picking up his cigar again and slotting it between his lips before he stands up and your breath hitches. “Wh- dressed like me? I didn’t-” you begin, confused at what he’s implying. Your eyes follow his moving figure, his steps taking him around his desk to the side of your chair, conveniently eye level to his groin. 

“But you did, didn’t you?” he asks softly, thumb coming to your chin to direct your gaze up to his eyes. “I don’t understand…” you murmur, skin beginning to warm at the rather inappropriate contact and position. Your chest heaves up and down beneath your cardigan and he surely notices letting out a soft chuckle. “You’re a smart girl. I’m sure you can put two and two together,” he continues, thumb rubbing softly back and forth against your chin before he drops his hand from you completely. Your eyes drop in sync to his limb, your mind racing a million thoughts a second. But… isn’t this what you wanted? What you needed? What you’ve dreamed of for weeks upon weeks? “Look at me,” he says, stern. And you do. “You listen so well,” he hums and you feel the makings of a fire ignite itself inside you somewhere deep. I’m being good. Good for him. “Kills you inside that you couldn’t get that shiny little sticker, doesn’t it?” he muses, looking down at you with mirth swirling in his eyes. You feel tears spring to your eyes at his words. He sees right through you. It did hurt. All you ever wanted to be was good for him. 

“We can fix that today. Tell you what, you be a good student for me, and I’ll be a good teacher to you, yeah?” he says, taking a puff from his cigar. “Nod your head like a good student.” And you do. Up and down, slowly. Your brain is fuzzy. This surely isn’t happening, is it? It couldn’t be. He walks away and back to his desk, propping his cigar down after asking it. He pushes a pile of papers from his desk, until he finds what he’s looking for. A sticker sheet. What is he…

“C’mere,” Professor Howlett gestures with a finger, simultaneously sitting back on his chair. Your legs are trembling under you as you get up and walk towards his side of the desk. Logan pivots his desk chair to the side as you walk over to him and you find yourself standing between his legs, quiet. “Take that off,” he says, flicking his head towards your cardigan. You let it drop off your shoulder promptly, standing only in your white tank top and plaid skirt. “Kneel,” he says, and you drop immediately. Pathetic. Your hands lay in your laps as you’re sat between his legs on your knees. Your breathing is as laboured as ever. You can’t believe this is happening— something that you spent nights dreaming of. Touching him, tasting him, feeling him. He reaches over to his desk and grabs the sticker sheet of gold stars, a fresh sheet of stars neatly arranged row by row. “You know what to do, don’t you sweetheart?” he asks, palm of his hand running against your face. You nod, reaching forward to the zipper of his dark denim jeans before his palm grabs your hand. “When I ask you somethin’, I want a verbal answer. Y’understand?” he says. Your voice feels caught in your throat. He’s so intense your head is spinning. “Y-yes,” you breathe. “Yes what?” he spits back and your heart hammers. “Y-yes, Sir.”

“Good girl,” he hums. He lets go of your hands, taking a sticker off the sheet and placing a small gold star right next to your left eye. Your face heats up at the praise and you almost let out a breath, but you don’t. Your hands go back to undressing Professor Howlett, fingers deft with his button and zipper. He lifts his hips up and helps you shrug his jeans down until they’re sitting on top of his black combat boots, clad only in black briefs. The heavy tent in his pants makes your eyes go wide but you persist, thinking of your grade on the line. With a tug at his boxer band his dick pops up over the elastic, and you pull down until the full sheath of him is bobbing freely. Your eyes widen a little at the sheer size of him, wondering how he could possibly fit inside your mouth let alone your pussy. He was long, eight inches you’d guess just by looking and insanely thick. He was heavy too— the length of him unable to stand up fully, bobbing haphazardly as he twitched from arousal. You looked up at him, and his gaze was steady. Expectant. You sucked in a shallow breath before grabbing his cock, warm to the touch. Your fingers barely touched. You’re hand jerked up once before Professor Howlett was grabbing your wrist, only to spit on his dick, the string of saliva landing on the shaft. “S’better. Go on,” he encourages, and you do— jerking him a little faster now with his spit lubricant, the sound of his slick skin making your pussy feel warm, wet. You jerk him faster, spitting in the palm of your second hand before you join your other, breasts bouncing up and down as you jerk him. Little grunts leave Logan, and it makes your tummy feel warm. You were making him feel— “Good, just like that, yeah. Use your mouth now,” he moans. You felt intimidated by his size, but you persisted still. You wanted to be his good girl.

You look up at him as your mouth opens, coy like a fish, and you wrap your lips around his tip. He inhales a sharp breath and it gives you some encouragement. Be good. Your head drops lower, lower and lower until your mouth his full and his tip is tickling your uvula, and you gag around him, sputtering spit all over him. You pull off his dick to cough and he chuckles at you. “Let’s try again together, yeah?” You nod, “Yes, Sir.” You reposition yourself, back on your knees in front of him. “Open your mouth and stick your tongue out, open real wide,” he says, tapping your cheek. It felt soft slap more than a tap however. But still, you open your mouth wide, tongue hanging out. “Juuust like that, yeah…” Logan groans, slapping the warmth of his cock on your tongue. “Breath through the nose,” he says, before putting the length of him in your mouth and pulling your head down on him, fist clenched in your hair. He pulls you down deep, further than you managed to reach alone and you gag, spit everywhere, but he pays you no mind. His curses under his breath before standing up out of his seat, your head craning up as his fist pulls at your nape. “Good fuckin’ girl,” he breathes, thrusting his cock in an out of your mouth. Your throat feels rubbed raw, tears pooling in your eyes but you hold on, hands gripping his thighs. “Take it, fucking take it,” he grunts. His hand disappears before placing a sticker on your spit-covered cheek and you whimper around his cock. Logan’s brows pull together and he laughs. “That turn you on? You like being my good little student? You like sucking off your professor?” he laughs, fucking your face with a deep pace. You muffle a Yes, Sir around him as his spit soaked balls slap against your chin and he laughs. Sticker after sticker covers the expanse of your face, a juxtaposition to your debauched mascara-streaked-spit-covered face.

Your throat is raw, but you’re relishing in the attention, the praise, the intensity of it. “One more mouthful, c’mon,” he grunts, pushing your head down even further down his cock and you squeal around him. Your eyes snap shut, focusing on holding your breath as he brings his dick deep down your throat until your nose is buried in his greying pubes. “So fucking nasty,” he drawls, deep groan leaving his chest. “Take it, be good and take it,” he says breathless, before he’s spitting his cum down your throat, leaving you no choice but to swallow his bitter semen. Your eyes wretch open lowly, watch Logan’s face contort in pleasure as he finishes in your throat and you whimper, squeezing his thighs tightly. “Good student,” he coos, pulling his cock from your mouth and it’s a relief that’s long overdue. Your first unobstructed breath is a deep one, and you’re slightly dizzy from the oxygen after having it restricted for so long. You don’t think about it for long before a hand is pulling you up off the floor, and before you know it, lips are on yours, tongue finding tongue. Your eyes close by themselves and you melt into the kiss, Professor Howlett’s lips soft against yours, but kissing you so roughly. Your arms grip his biceps, desperate for something to hold onto, anything to steady yourself with. 

The kiss breaks and your mind feels hazy. Your eyes open and you see Professor Howlett staring back at you, hands roaming your body. “Pr-professor…” you moan out after a particularly hard squeeze at your ass. “Logan, baby,” he says, kissing your lips once in a peck, and again as a sloppy embrace, his tongue swirling in your mouth and you keen into him. His hands pull at the back of your thighs and you jump up in his arms, wrapping your arms around his thick neck. He walks you a few paces, still stuck in an embrace, until he puts on you down on his desk. He breaks the kiss between you two before pulling the front of your tank top down, revealing your breasts to him, nipples pert. He wastes no time kissing and licking your chest, and you throw your head back in a silent moan. He sucks on your nipples for a minute, pinching and toying with your breast until your chest is heaving and nipples are raw. “What a sight for me,” Logan hums, and you feel shy under him like this. “Lean back and spread your legs f’me,” he says low, kneeling as you do as he asks. He’s eye level with your pussy, only covered by your skirt and white panties. He lifts the plaid fabric up and groans, the little wet spot of your pussy a delectable sight. 

Logan leans forward and licks the wet gusset of your panties and you let out a shuddering moan. “P-please, Logan…” you breath, too wound up to wait. He smirks and indulges in you, pliant and needy. He hooks a finger in the crotch of your panties and pulls them to the side, hurrying his face into your wet and waiting pussy. It’s an enrapturing feeling, having him suck and lick and taste your clit and folds like this, groaning into you and he praises you for having such a sweet fuckin’ pussy, baby. He sucks your clit roughly, before pulling back to spit on your pussy, rubbing his nose against your clit before flattening his tongue against your gushing slit once again. The streaks of grey between your thighs sends blood rushing downwards to the center of your arousal and you can’t help but run your hands through his salt and pepper hair. He licks and tongues you until your legs go numb, teasing your orgasm from you time and time again until you’re nearly in tears for him, ready to cum.

 “Please Lo- Sir. Please, Sir. Wanna cum, I’ll be good. Just-” your begging is cut short as two thick fingers push themselves in you and you throw your head back at the stretch. “You’re gonna come for me in a little, sweetheart. Be good for now,” Logan coos, kissing your inner thighs. You’re heaving as he curls and scissors his fingers inside you in a way that feels so unfairly good that tears begin to streak down your face, gold stickers peeling and falling off your damp skin; scattering down on the desk and falling on your chest. “G-gonna… Oh my God, Sir,” you squeal, just about ready to… Until his fingers deftly leave you. Before you can whine about this, Logan’s thick fingers covered in your slick push into your mouth and you groan. “Hush, baby. You’re about to feel real good in a little,” Logan hums, rubbing his cock, now hard again, up and down your wet and sensitive pussy, the head of him hitching your clit so good it hurts. His fingers leave your mouth. “Beg for it.” And you do. You’re a babbling mess under him. “Inside, p-put it inside me, Professor,” you moan, and Logan's resolve snaps, thrusting into you in one fluid movement.

You see stars, no pun intended, at the stretch of him. Your stomach feels full and you shudder, laying back down against the desk. “Tightest, sweetest fucking pussy I ever felt,” Logan coos, fingers pushing back into your mouth. His unoccupied hand grabs your leg and throws it over his shoulder and he begins to thrust in and out of you, knocking the wind out of you with every push in and out. Your intermittent moans turn into a symphony of cries as his pace increases and he’s fucking into you at a brutal speed. Your hands are grasped around the wrist of his hand that’s by your mouth, sucking his fingers to soothe the burning part of the pleasure. “That’s it, fucking take it,” he grunts, pushing your leg from around his should back until your knee was touching your shoulder. The new angle made the pleasure unbearable, every movement rubbing against your g-spot. Your eyes begin to close, your body shutting down seemingly as you begin to enter a pleasure comatose, the bubbling pleasure, the fingers in your mouth, it all feels like too much. But Logan doesn’t let you stay in that place for too long, his fingers leaving your mouth to slap your cheek, pulling back down. “I need you right here, know it feels good but I want you with me,” he says breathy, thrusts still never faltering. 

Without his fingers in your mouth your moans are free to be heard, your incoherent babbles of “s’too much,” and “so deep in me, sir,” floating in the air between Logan’s heavy breaths and obscene curses. You’re breasts jump with every thrust in you, your head bouncing up and down from the sheer force of his thrusts. “T-Tell me…” you stutter out, eyes fluttering. “Tell you?” he asks, grinding his hips up and deep, and you’re sure he’s grazing your cervix. You grip his t-shirt and keel. He gets what you mean. “Good girl. My good girl. You’re the best girl. You want another star, don’t you?” he breathes out, a hand moving down to your clit as he thrusts up and out, up and out into you. You whimper, his words and ministration’s overwhelming, “Yes, Sir. M’good. So good. W-want it. Please, can I have it?” you babble. You belly feels warm, and the heat bubbles with every brush at your swollen clit and thrust in your pussy. He lets go of the hand at your knee, spreading you open to grab a sticker from the sticker sheet. “Stick your tongue out f’me,” and you do, overwhelmed with this moment. You’re being good. You’re being good. You’re almost there, keep being good. He spits in your mouth and you moan holding it there and waiting for him to tell you what to do. “Swallow it,” he huffs, thrusts faltering. He’s close, you deduce. I don’t want it to end. Please don’t let it end. You swallow and stick your tongue back out to show him and he groans.

He puts the star sticker on your tongue, and he thrusts in you harder, tweaking at your clit as he does. Your body seizes and you melt into a fit of moans and grunts, and you finally cum, Logan fucking you through it. “Yeah baby, just like that. Kneel for me,” he says, pulling out of you. You lay up off the desk and fall promptly to your knees, watching him jerk himself to orgasm above you with your tongue out, gold star on the middle of your tongue. He grunts with deep Fuck! before warm ropes of cum spray your partially sticker-covered face and tongue. Your eyes close and you hum, relishing in the warmth. Logan wipes the cum from your eyes with his thumb and sticks it in your mouth, and you suck, no questions asked. “Good fucking girl.” 

The moments following are awkward. Logan tucks himself back in his pants, and pulls his jeans up and you’re left laying on the floor, coming down from your ecstasy high. The zip of his jeans breaks the silence and you’re looking up at him, soiled with cum, spit, stickers, tears and mascara. He walks to his bar cart and grabs the cloth hanging off the handle bar, and he hands it to you. You clean yourself up, and when you’re done you find his cardigan in his hands. You fix your tank top back over your breasts and pull the crotch of your panties back into place before grabbing it from him. “Thanks,” you say quietly. “See you in class on Tuesday,” is the last thing he says to you before you leave his office. Stunned.

On Tuesday, he hands you back your test with a new grade, an eighty, and gold sticker placed on it right next to the new grade. He glances at you as you look over your test, and smirks. You read the note he left in red ink on the back of the test, heart beating a little faster once you look back up at him. Good girl. 

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[bueckets]

Textbook Chemistry | Preview

Pairing: paige x tutor!reader

Description: What you thought would look good on your resume turns out to be a weekly exercise in restraint, where Paige Bueckers treats biology like a game she can win through sheer charm, and you try—try—not to let her get under your skin. She’s got no notes, no shame, and apparently no real fear of academic failure, just endless confidence and a talent for turning even the most basic study session into getting under your skin—in all the right ways.

Preview WC: 3.1k

The library is way too quiet. The kind of quiet that makes your own breathing sound deafening, where every shuffle of paper or tap of a pen echoes like a gunshot. It’s the kind of silence that should be perfect for studying. Should be.

Except Paige Bueckers is sitting across from you, and Paige Bueckers doesn’t give a single shit about studying.

Instead, she’s leaned back in her chair like she’s lounging courtside instead of being one bad test score away from academic probation. She’s got her long legs stretched out beneath the table, sneakers tapping lazily against the floor. Her hoodie—way too oversized for someone whose entire existence is dedicated to agility and precision—is slouching off one shoulder, and she’s twirling a pen between her fingers like she’s dribbling down the court with a shot clock winding down. The sleeves are bunched up just enough to show her forearms, strong and lined with faint muscle from years of training, but the only thing working right now is her mouth.

Grinning. Smirking. Teasing. Doing everything but reading the goddamn textbook in front of her.

“Alright, Paige,” you sigh, pushing your notes toward her for what has to be the third time. “We need to focus. You will fail this class if you don’t start studying.”

Paige doesn’t even blink. Doesn’t move an inch beyond a lazy stretch that makes her hoodie ride up just slightly, flashing the waistband of her shorts. Her smirk deepens like she can feel you noticing.

“Yeah,” she drawls, tilting her head, “but then I’d have to take it again next semester. Which means more quality time with my favorite tutor.”

You stare at her. She stares back. The kind of look that feels like a staredown before tip-off except way less athletic and way more are you seriously this insufferable?

She holds the eye contact, easy as anything, while you struggle to remind yourself that she is only your student, not a professional flirt sent to ruin your life. Her eyes gleam in the dim library lighting, playful and sharp at the same time. Her lashes are unfairly long, brushing against her cheeks when she finally blinks.

Your heart rate picks up. Not from that. From the academic crisis happening right now. Obviously.

“You’re not failing on purpose, right?” You narrow your eyes suspiciously.

Paige tilts her head, pretending to ponder, lips pursing slightly. “Hmm. No, but if I did, would that be kinda cute?”

You groan dramatically, dragging a hand down your face. “I am this close to committing academic misconduct and just taking the test for you.”

Paige gasps. Actually gasps, pressing a hand to her chest in faux offense. “Wow. I knew med school was intense, but I didn’t realize you were out here ready to commit federal crimes.”

“That’s it,” you announce, pushing back from the table. “I’m done. I quit. Find someone else to teach you about mitochondria.”

You barely make it an inch before Paige reaches across the table and hooks two fingers around your wrist, tugging you back down like you weigh nothing. Her grip is firm, all strength and control—like she’s grabbing a rebound, like she’s got her hands on the game ball in overtime. Your pulse jumps again, this time definitely because of that.

Her fingers linger for a second longer than necessary before she releases you. But she’s still watching you, expression softening just slightly around the edges. “C’mon, stay,” she says, voice lower now, like a secret. “I promise I’ll actually pay attention this time.”

You cross your arms. “Oh? And what changed?”

She leans forward this time, elbows on the table, chin propped on one hand. The lighting catches the sharp angles of her cheekbones, the curve of her jaw. She’s smiling, but it’s something different now—something slower. 

“Figured out that if I fail,” she murmurs, eyes locked on yours, “I won’t have an excuse to see you anymore.”

Your brain does a full system reboot. Error. What the fuck did she just say?

“Wh—Paige.”

She just winks, sinking her teeth iinto her bottom lip for half a second before her grin spreads, slow and satisfied. “What? That was cute, right?”

You grab your pen and point it at her accusingly. “You are so goddamn lucky you’re good at basketball, because if you had to rely on your brain—”

“I’d still get by,” she interrupts smoothly, shooting finger guns at you. “People tend to go easy on the charming ones.”

Your mouth actually falls open. Not on purpose—just an involuntary reaction to the sheer, unbelievable audacity of this girl. She’s failing biology, hasn’t written down a single note, and still has the goddamn nerve of a mathlete coasting through an easy A.

You snap your jaw shut, you refuse to let her see how flustered you are. You refuse. “Okay, charming one, then explain the process of cellular respiration.”

Paige squints, lips pressing together as she sucks in a breath through her teeth, nose scrunching like she’s really trying to make something shake in that head of hers. “Uh… it’s when cells… respire?”

You pinch the bridge of your nose, inhaling slowly through your teeth. “We are so, so fucking doomed.”

She just laughs, kicking her feet out beneath the table, accidentally knocking her knee against yours. “Relax,” she says, her grin widening. “You love tutoring me.”

“Do I?”

“Yeah,” she nods, completely sure of herself. “You totally have a little crush on me.”

You let out a dry, incredulous laugh—one of those sharp, breathy ones, all eyebrows raised and head bobbing. “Yeah, sure.”

She shrugs, tapping a finger against the open page of her biology textbook like she might actually start paying attention. Then, without looking up—

“Nah, I know.”

You blink. Paige blinks back.

The air between you tightens like a taut shoelace, pulling, pulling—dangerously close to snapping. You could be the bigger person here. You could roll your eyes, let it go, return to the noble pursuit of keeping Paige Bueckers from academically imploding.

But something about the way she’s looking at you—too smug, too sure—strikes a competitive nerve in you. And you’re not about to lose anything to her. Not a game, not a staredown, and sure as hell not a battle of wits.

So you shift in your chair, tilting your head, letting your lips curl just slightly. “Oh, you know?”

Paige leans back again, arms crossed, shoulders loose. She’s cocky, sure, but there’s something anticipatory in her gaze—like she knows you’re about to challenge her and she’s thrilled about it.

“Mhm.” She nods, casual as ever. “Crystal clear.”

You hum, feigning thoughtfulness, tapping a finger against the open textbook. “Wow. Must be nice. I thought you struggled with retention, but here you are, remembering things that have literally never been said.”

She gasps. “Rude.”

“You’ll get over it,” you deadpan.

Paige, of course, does not let it go. She tips her chin up, meeting your gaze with something wicked and playful tangled in the blue of her eyes. “Okay, fine. You don’t have a little crush on me.”

You exhale, relieved.

“But you definitely think about me when I’m not around.”

Your breath catches. Paige sees it. Her grin stretches wider, knowing, smug.

Oh, you are not letting her have this.

You scoff, shifting back in your chair, fighting the warmth creeping up your spine. “Paige, you are in my life solely because you can’t pass basic biology. I think about you in the same way people think about a fire alarm that won’t stop beeping.”

“Ah, so constantly?”

You scowl.

She beams.

“That’s fair,” Paige shrugs, stretching her arms over her head, and the movement makes her hoodie ride up again, flashing a sliver of tanned stomach. “I am pretty unforgettable. Even when I’m annoying.”

“Especially when you’re annoying,” you mutter.

Paige smirks, but then, as if sensing your growing frustration, she sighs dramatically, rolling her eyes and dragging her textbook closer. “Alright, fine. I’ll study.”

You narrow your eyes. “For real?”

She winks. “Scout’s honor.”

“Paige, you were never a scout.”

“Prove it.”

You sigh but relent, watching as she flips open the book and actually—miraculously—starts reading the page in front of her. You take a sip of your now-cold coffee, reveling in the small victory.

For a blissful forty-five seconds, Paige is silent. Then—

“So, like,” she starts, “mitochondria. That’s the powerhouse of the cell, right?”

You pause. Blink. Lower your coffee. “Yes?”

Paige throws her hands in the air. “Let’s gooo. I’m a genius.”

You groan, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Paige, you have three weeks until your exam. We need to cover way more than that.”

“Okay, okay,” she soothes, putting her hands up in surrender. “Next question.”

You flip to another page, glancing up briefly to make sure she’s paying attention.

She’s not.

She’s looking at you.

You pause, caught off guard by the way she’s watching you—not with teasing amusement or lazy smugness, but with something softer. Warmer. Curious.

“Paige,” you warn, shifting uncomfortably.

She blinks, then grins again, but there’s something slightly less sharp about it now. “Nothing, nothing,” she mutters, shaking her head, flipping a page in her book. “Just thinking.”

You hesitate, unsure if you want to ask, what about? But you don’t.

Instead, you clear your throat, turning your attention back to the book. “Okay. Explain the process of osmosis.”

Paige tilts her head dramatically. “Is that, like, when you just chil through life and things come to you naturally?”

“Oh my god, no,” you deadpan.

She grins. “Damn. Thought I was onto something.”

You sigh, rubbing your temples. “We are so fucked.”

Paige just laughs, bright and easy. “Nah. You’d never let me fail.”

She says it like it’s a fact. Like she knows, without a doubt, that you’d never let hers fall behind.

And the worst part is she’s most definitely right.

She twirls her pen between her fingers, spinning it effortlessly like a basketball rolling off the tips of her hands. It’s hypnotizing, actually—the smooth rotations, the lazy way her fingers flick with just enough control to keep it from dropping. She’s been doing this for the last ten minutes, and not once has she even pretended to read the page in front of her.

Meanwhile, you’re hunched over your notes, taking deep, steadying breaths. You tell yourself you won’t let her test your patience today. You won’t get dragged into her game. You won’t—

“Paige,” you say, voice strained.

“Hm?” she replies, still flipping her pen effortlessly.

“Please read.”

Paige hums noncommittally. Turns a page without reading it.

You inhale through your nose, exhale through your mouth. “Paige.”

She finally looks up, resting her chin on her palm, eyes bright with amusement. “What? I’m absorbing information. Through osmosis.”

You close your eyes, count to three. Consider what your life would be like if you had literally any other tutoring assignment.

“You are so lucky you’re athletic,” you mutter, flipping the page back to where she was actually supposed to start reading. “C’mon. Photosynthesis. What do you know?”

Paige stretches her arms behind her head, her hoodie riding up slightly—distractingly—before she drops back down with a smirk, looking at you like she’s about to deliver the most groundbreaking scientific revelation of all time.

“Plants… make food?”

Your eyelid twitches.

“Correct,” you deadpan. “And they do that through—”

“The power of love,” Paige interrupts, placing a hand over her chest. “And sunlight.”

You grip the edge of the table. Consider flipping it over. “Yes. Because that’s what biology is. Disney magic and good vibes.”

Paige grins. “Exactly.”

You open your mouth—probably to unleash a scathing lecture about the sanctity of science—when a shadow hovers at the edge of the table. You glance up—because you always have to glance up when people stop by your study sessions with Paige—and find a girl, probably a freshman, clutching her phone like it’s a sacred artifact.

She shifts on her feet, looking like she’s debating whether she should even speak to Paige. You can already see where this is going.

“Uh, sorry to interrupt,” the girl says, eyes darting between you and Paige, before ultimately landing—unsurprisingly—on Paige. “Could I, um, get a picture? If that’s okay?”

Paige doesn’t miss a beat. She shifts effortlessly from Slacker Paige to Cool Superstar Paige, flashing an easy grin as she leans back in her chair like she expected this. Like this is as common as someone asking her to pass the salt at dinner.

“Of course,” she says, voice warm, inviting, polished. She stands smoothly, rolling her shoulders back, exuding that same relaxed confidence she has right before sinking a step-back three.

You, meanwhile, remain seated, taking a slow sip of your coffee, already resigned to your fate as Paige Bueckers’ unofficial designated library bodyguard.

It’s routine at this point. The public adoration, the excited stammering, the sheepish thank you so much before they rush off like they just met royalty. And then Paige slides back into her chair, knocking her knee against yours like she doesn’t have an entire fan club scattered across campus.

“Where were we?” she asks casually, flipping her pen again.

You don’t even blink. “You were pretending to study, and I was contemplating my life choices.”

Paige snorts. But before she can respond, another person approaches.

You glance up again, already prepared, already so tired.

This time, it’s a guy—tall, student-athlete vibes, definitely not looking at you.

“Hey, sorry,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck, clearly nervous despite the fact that Paige is already smiling at him like they’re old friends. “Could I get a picture real quick?”

Paige grins. “Yeah, of course.”

You take another sip of your coffee. Stare blankly into the abyss.

Same process. Paige stands, poses, flashes her million-dollar smile. The guy stammers out a thanks and hurries off.

You exhale. Set your coffee down. “You done?”

Paige barely has time to smirk before two more people shuffle up, practically vibrating with excitement.

She notices your unimpressed expression and loses it, biting her lip to keep from laughing. “Okay, now it’s funny,” she murmurs, just loud enough for you to hear.

“Now it’s funny?” you echo flatly.

She grins. “Yeah. You look miserable.”

You scowl. Paige beams.

Another five minutes pass before the final wave of admirers disperse, and Paige—finally—sinks back into her chair, looking far too pleased with herself.

“I should start charging,” she jokes.

You arch a brow. “Should I start charging? I’m the one sitting here like an unpaid security detail.”

Paige grins, drumming her fingers against the table. “You could be my manager, you know. We’d be an iconic duo.”

You scoff. “We’re not even an iconic study group.”

“Yet,” she corrects.

You roll your eyes but, reluctantly, glance at the time. The session should go another thirty minutes, but between Paige’s inability to focus and her impromptu meet-and-greet, you’re pretty much out of patience.

“Fine,” you sigh, shutting your book. “We’ll pick this up next time.”

Paige fist-pumps like she just nailed a game-winner. “Let’s go.”

You raise a hand. “But—”

Paige groans.

“You actually have to study next time,” you warn, pointing a finger at her like a parent scolding a child. “No excuses. No distractions. No impromptu fan club meetings.”

Paige nods solemnly. “Of course. One hundred percent. Fully locked in.”

You squint at her. “You’re lying to my face.”

She grins. “Yeah. But I did it really well.”

You let out a slow breath, collecting your things, already knowing that next time will be just as chaotic. But, somehow, you don’t hate the idea.

You barely make it two steps out of the library before Paige falls into step beside you, hands tucked into the front pocket of her hoodie, head tilted toward you like she’s waiting for something.

You don’t say anything.

Neither does she.

But she’s still there, walking at your exact pace, still spinning that damn pen between her fingers like she’s making it her personal mission to erode the last of your patience.

After half a block of this nonsense, you finally huff. “Why are you still here?”

Paige smirks, eyes twinkling. “Wow. I thought we were friends, and you hit me with why are you still here? I think I need to sit down. That was devastating.”

You resist the urge to shove her into a trash can. “You should sit down. With a biology textbook.”

“That,” she sighs dramatically, “sounds like a you problem.”

You groan, but the corners of your lips twitch—just slightly.

She glances at you again, side-eyeing, like she’s waiting for you to say something else. You don’t. So, instead, she nudges your arm with her elbow.

“You heading back to your dorm?”

“Yep,” you say, adjusting the strap of your bag. “Where some people go to actually study.”

Paige grins. “Fun. I was gonna hit the gym.”

You pretend to be shocked. “No way. The gym? You? Unheard of.”

She chuckles. “Yeah, yeah. Crazy concept. Gotta keep these knees in top shape so I can keep playing dumb for you in the library.”

You roll your eyes, but your lips do twitch again.

When you reach the intersection where you usually part ways, Paige hesitates—just slightly. Her foot taps against the pavement, and she glances at you, like there’s something she wants to say but doesn’t.

But then the crosswalk light changes, and she just flashes her usual grin. “Alright, I’ll see you next time. Can’t wait to waste more of your valuable time.”

You shake your head, already walking away. “You are a waste of my valuable time.”

Paige calls after you, voice dripping with smug amusement. “Admit it! You’d be bored as hell without me!”

You don’t respond. Maybe, just maybe, she has a point.

Comment below for taglist. Thank you for reading.

[azzibuckets]

All Fell Down ~Part 2~

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

*masterlist in collab w/ @imaginespazzi*

a/n: here’s my first part (azzi’s perspective)!! i know these chapters are short lol but bear with us :) let us know your thoughts!

It’s almost two in the morning and Paige is on the sticky floor of a filthy bathroom. She feels the burn in the throat where it’s raw from having puked up the shots she’d pounded earlier, and she feels the ache in her knees from kneeling from so long. She’s conscious of all this, and yet the thing that hurts the most is the excruciating feeling of half of me is missing throbbing in her heart.

From behind her, Paige hears the sound of shoes shuffling against tile. If she shuts her eyes hard enough she can almost smell the floral undertones of Azzi’s favorite perfume, feel the familiar comfort of Azzi’s calloused palm against her cheek. Her heart beats rampant as she indulges herself in thoughts of Azzi could be here, Azzi could be here and take Paige in her arms and everything would somehow be alright. But then a hand reaches out to smooth her hair back, wrapping a hair tie two times around before pulling it into a ponytail, and Paige has to swallow her hopes.

Azzi always ties it three times.

“I told you to slow down earlier.” Evina’s voice is gentle but firm, and Paige doesn’t have to look at her friend in the eyes to feel the disappointment dripping off her words.

Paige spits into the toilet one last time, trying to escape the bitter feeling of bile coating her tongue. “I’m fine,” she mutters, unleashing her long blonde hair and plumping it up in the mirror. “Just needed some space.” She studies herself in the mirror. She’s paler than usual, and her forehead is covered in a light sheen of sweat. But other than that, she looks pretty decent, even though she doesn’t feel like it at all. But isn’t life always about pretending?

“You’re going back out there?” Evina asks, not bothering to hide the judgment on her face.

“We just beat Notre Dame by 20 points. I think I deserve to let loose for one night.” Paige is on the defensive, but she doesn’t know why. Even she knows that she’s self-destructing, has been for the last two weeks. But what else are you supposed to do when she can’t stop missing something that she never had?

Evina’s eyebrows furrow, and Paige’s heart drops as the older girl’s face slowly morphs into pity. “Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“The way all of you guys keep looking at me.” Paige’s voice comes out strangled. She rubs harshly at her eyes as they start to dampen, willing herself to hold it together for one more goddamn second. Paige has gotten used to breaking down over the past year, but Azzi had always been one call away and now, for the last few months, only one hall away. But this time Azzi isn’t here to put her back together, and now she’s picking up the pieces alone.

“Getting drunk isn’t a healthy way to cope with your problems.”

“And what are my problems, Evina?” P aige laughs mockingly. “The fact that I can’t have a normal conversation with my best friend anymore? That I stutter if I talk to her for longer than five seconds? That I have to create space between us when it’s the last fucking thing I wanna do?” One after another, the words tumble out of her mouth, a cacophony of hurt and bitterness, and Paige presses a hand to her lips as she realizes what she’s done.

“You think we pity you?” Evina says incredulously. “Honestly, Paige, you’re the one who pities yourself.” The hardness of Evina’s tone yanks Paige out of her drunken stupor. She blinks at her teammate, at a loss for words. “Azzi’s the one who’s alone in her dorm right now. Azzi’s the one who’s sidelined with an injury and can’t play for god knows how long. Azzi’s the one who got to this school four months ago and needed, needs, her best friend to help guide her through everything, but is getting ignored because you’re too pussy to do anything about it.”

Evina turns to leave, but looks over her shoulder as she opens the door. Paige expects a glare, but the older girl’s eyes are uncharacteristically soft, the corners creased, and Paige thinks that’s even worse. “Go home, Paige. I mean it.”

Paige slumps against the wall, her mind reeling. Before she knows it, her phone is in her hand, the screen opened up to a photo of her and Azzi from her birthday a few years ago. Azzi’s arm is wrapped tightly around her, and Paige is leaning into her touch, like she always seems to subconsciously do. She remembers how Azzi’s hand had lingered on her waist even after Katie had put her camera down. She remembers clasping their hands together under the table, their fingers and their futures intertwined in a way that couldn’t be undone. She remembers being in the bathroom at the end of the night, drunk off chocolate and sugar and everything Azzi when she’d told her best friend that she was her favorite person in the entire world.

Paige doesn’t know she’s crying until a teardrop lands on her screen, but she hurriedly brushes it away before tapping on the number under the picture and bringing the phone to her ear.

“Paige?”

[soangelbaby]

ৎ୭ tainted by you ; clark kent

“c’mon, nobody’s gonna catch us,” clark prodded, his hands sliding up your hips, twirling his fingers into the waistband of your denim skirt as he pushed you back against the cold brick of the alleyway wall, “you know i could get us out of here before they’d even register what was happening.” his voice low, leaning into the crook of your neck, his tongue grazing over the warm skin before sinking his teeth into it. you yelped at the contact, your arms shooting up to push at his chest, your stomach churning, “clark! what the hell was that?” you whined out, but clark’s grip was firm, and he didn’t even bother to pull away. his mouth still working on you, his hands slid up your denim skirt, it bunching up at your hips as he gripped your ass harshly and pulled you flush against him.

your head tipped back as your held back a moan of pleasure and pain, your acrylic nails tugging his hair, and he groaned against your skin. “there ya go baby, gonna let me take care of you right?” clark’s fingers looped around your panties yanking them down, your hands shot to push his wrist away—still attempting to hold onto any sense of control over this moment, but you knew it was useless. “clark—we shouldn’t—” but he cut you off by smashing his lips onto yours, his tongue slipping into your mouth with ease, forcing you open for him. you whimpered into his mouth, feeling him plunge to fingers inside your throbbing pussy, clark’s lips traveled down your jaw and behind your ear, “you tell me no but you’re so wet for me, why is that?” he bites down on your earlobe, his tongue gliding over the cartilage, placing sloppy kisses everywhere. you can’t help but moan at the feeling, melting into him, he knew your body, exactly where to place his lips, his hands, every single spot, like it was specifically designed for him to unravel.

your body rocked against the brick wall, his fingers working so fast in and out of you, his thumb tracing lazy circles over your clit. you arched into him, feeling the tightness build your stomach, “cl-clark m’ gonna—” you barely made out, your body glitching against him, before squirting all over his fingers, staining his grey sweatpants, drops trickling down onto the pavement. clark’s fingers barely slowed down, “fuck baby, that was so hot,” he groans, “such a dirty girl, ruining my clothes in this damn alleyway, not as innocent as you pretend to be hm?” his fingers slide out of you, reaching into his sweats and tugging his dick out. you can barely speak, still trying to catch your breath from the action that just transpired. but clark’s moving fast—too fast for you to catch up, “wait-wait-slow down” you pant, pushing at his chest. clark doesn’t listen, his tip sliding in between your slit, already coating himself in your wetness, “you want me to slow down? you think you have a say in this?” he growls, slipping into you, raw and rough, feeling the intense stretch of him between your walls.

you squeal loudly trying to back away him, moving up the wall. clark slaps your face, your head whipping to the side, cheek stinging hot, anger welling up inside you—and even more so, fear as you looked into his eyes, vision blurry through your tears, “stupid slut, you must wanna get caught, making noises like that” clark bites at your jaw, before licking down your neck, “say my name then, tell em’ who’s got you folded up like this.” shaking your head, you clench around him, still pulsating from your last orgasm, your fingers lock in his hair, “bitch, i said say it.” he slaps your ass, causing you to jerk forward, his tip slamming against your cervix, you bit down on your lip, hands tightening around his neck, “f-fuck clark, please” you gasp out, he rests his forehead on yours, grunting as he speeds up, his eyes locked on yours, “louder.” clark demands, and you gasp, feeling the tightness in your stomach once again, your eyes dare to roll back but you stay focused, for your sake, you can’t bare another harsh slap.

“yes—fuck clark—im so close,” you moan uncontrollably, your head tipping back hitting the brick wall repeatedly, your grip on him slips, lazily clawing at his shoulders, clark’s ears twitch, and he smirks at you “people are coming. but you’re gonna cum on my dick anyway, right slut?” you nod weakly, halfway feeling ashamed, the other half craving the humiliation, loving how he makes a fool out of you, being so desperate and needy for him. it’s pathetic, you know, but you don’t care, you need him, and he wasn’t afraid to let everyone else know it. just then, you felt his warm cum shoot into you, your eyes squeezing shut, trembling against him, throaty moans escaping both of your mouths as he collapses on top of you, chest presses hard against yours, still holding you up against the wall. and you hadn’t even realized you had squirted again on him, completely drenching his sweats, puddles on the pavement around you. you fought to catch your breath, the group of people passing by the alleyway, in deep conversation, completely oblivious to what was happening underneath these red lights.

“see what happens when you’re good for me? so where are we thinking next? the mall? movies?”

★ rini’s note ; spoiling my red kryptonite clark lovers today huh?? i can’t get enough of him—too hot to handle, but he’s got me wrapped around his finger. & ik he’s just such a freak like i just know it 💔 srry ab any typos grr i rush but they will be fixed in due time <3

[enhaniki-san]

Nishimura Riki as your classmate that's in love you.

warnings: smut, nsfw, cursing, etc.

♱ student!reader who is a mean girl and delinquent but classmate!ni-ki thinks he might be into it.

♱ classmate!niki who keeps on showing up wherever you go.

"what the fuck, ni-ki? do you have a tracker on me or something?" you asked, narrowing your eyes at him.

he replied, "it's just a coincidence." shrugging casually. "don't flatter yourself."

"bullshit." you shot back, crossed arms. "you're always popping up where i least want you."

♱ classmate!ni-ki who's very attentive to you and even though he never actually said it, he's making it painfully obvious how much he likes you.

when the teacher had finally decided to do something about your constant tardiness, you ended up sweeping the dusty classroom floor where ni-ki spotted you.

"what do you want?" you asked when you heard his footsteps. you turned to face him, resting your hands on the broom handle.

he replied, "i'm just going to wait for you."

you rolled your eyes and turned back to your task. "don't you have something better to do?"

"hmm, not really." he stepped into the room, "i think this is more fun."

"watching me clean? oh you've got a weird definition of 'fun'."

he didn't answer. he simply stood there, watching you and even though he is silent, ni-ki's presence was still distracting.

you felt tired suddenly and with a huff, you glanced over your shoulder.

"ca-can you help me?"

the words left your mouth quietly before you could stop them, you instantly regretted it. "my god..." you thought. you weren't used to asking anyone for help, let alone ni-ki's.

your cheeks burned slightly as you turned away. "nevermind..." you said, turning to focus on the floor again.

ni-ki stepped forward and took the broom from your hands without a word.

"hey-"

"i got it." he said, cutting you off. he started sweeping like he'd been doing it all his life and within minutes, the dirt pile you'd been struggling with had already doubled in size.

you stood there awkwardly, unsure what to do or feel with yourself. "you don't have to do everything..."

"you asked for help, so i'm just being thorough." he said, making you flustered.

you turned away and muttered, "thanks, i guess."

"no problem." he replied, still focused on sweeping.

you couldn't help but steal a glance at him. his sleeves were rolled up slightly and his hair was bouncing with every movement.

ni-ki looked so…

and before you could finish that thought, he dusted his hands off with a satisfied smile. "done. anything else you want me to do?"

what is he, a butler?

you stared and blinked at him, unsure how to respond. finally, you shook your head. "no... that's it."

"good." he said, walking past you to put the broom away then he leaned close to you making you step back. "next time, just ask me from the start. you know i don't mind doing stuff for you."

"are you genie?"

"jinny? who's that jerk?"

"the genie from the movie, you idiot..."

ni-ki laughed awkwardly. "ahh the one from movie."

♱ classmate!ni-ki who gets jealous easily when a guy approaches you.

"hey." a voice called. you looked up to see a guy from another class approaching, smiling easy and confident. "do you wanna partner up for gym?"

"ni-ki! here!"

you turned and saw ni-ki standing with a group of guys with a soccer ball in his hands. he was staring at the guy beside you and without hesitation, he launched the ball. not towards his friends though but directly at the guy's head.

the ball smacked into the back of his head with a satisfying thud, cutting off whatever the guy was about to say.

"ow! what the hell?" the guy turned around, rubbing the back of his head as niki jogged over, faking innocence.

"sorry, bad aim." ni-ki said, though the smirk tugging at the corner of his lips said otherwise.

the guy said something under his breath before walking off, leaving you staring at ni-ki in disbelief.

"seriously?" you asked, shaking your head.

ni-ki shrugged, completely unapologetic. "yeah, so what?" he asked.

you rolled your eyes, kicking another rock as you walked away from him.

♱ classmate!ni-ki who keeps asking you to go to school everyday that you actually started showing up little by little and going in early didn't seem so bad anymore, and not to mention, you're grades were starting to improve too.

you handed back his notes then ni-ki adjusted your tie, his knuckles were brushing against your chest.

suddenly, ni-ki glanced at his watch then cupped your face gently. "i gotta go before someone sees me hanging out with a bad girl." he teased, grinning while anticipating your reaction.

you raised an eyebrow, scoffing. "oh, so you're embarrassed to be seen with me?"

his lips curled into a smirk, "i'll kiss you in front of everyone if you want." he said, adding a laugh.

you eyes widened, heat started to rush to your cheeks. flustered, you pulled his hands away. "you just said-"

"i'll see you later!" ni-ki interrupted, spinning on his heel with a playful grin before sprinting off, leaving you standing there, completely stunned.

"that guy..."

♱ classmate!ni-ki who teases you about your handwriting but secretly keeps every note you've ever written for him.

♱ classmate!ni-ki who kept asking to copy your homework, but it's actually just an excuse to check if you did it right.

♱ classmate!ni-ki whom you unexpectedly started making out with, one night while studying at your house.

and when he stood and stretched after, you accidentally looked at his pants where his dick were straining against the fabric, making a tent on his sweats.

you quickly whipped your head away. but ni-ki noticed and laughed as he walked towards the bathroom. "yeah, but i promise it's nothing you can't handle."

♱ classmate!ni-ki who seems to be really patient with you.

you wandered through the library then you spotted niki sitting by the window. his head were leaning back against the seat, eyes closed and looking so peaceful.

your heart ached slightly. you sat down quietly beside him, trying not to disturb him.

and as if sensing your presence, ni-ki's eyes fluttered open. a small smile formed his lips as he shifted, putting his arm on the back of the seat behind, welcoming you. then, without a word, he rested his forehead against your shoulder.

"i missed you." he murmured, his voice were low and sleepy.

you swallowed hard, heat creeping up your neck and cheeks. "what happened the other day…" you began hesitantly, your voice barely above a whisper. "did you tell anyone?"

ni-ki lifted his head slightly, his expression turned into worry. "no, of course i didn't."

"good…" you muttered, letting out a shaky breath you didn't realize you'd been holding.

he smiled faintly and rested his head against your shoulder again, his hand grabbed yours, caressing it, as if reassuring you.

"i- it's not a big deal, right? niki?" you asked.

ni-ki's jaw tightened for the briefest moment, his outward calm masking the storm that's happening inside. maybe it's just making out but the truth? he's been thinking about it nonstop, replaying every detail in his mind and it gave him more clarity just how much he likes you... and that he had probably stroked his dick thousand more times since that day.

but he wasn't about to let you know that.

"no." he whispered, his lips brushing close to your ear, "it's not."

you turned to him, your eyes lighting up with relief. "great! thanks…"

before he could respond, you stood abruptly, brushing your skirt down. "well, i've got to go now. see you!" you said, smiling while giving him a quick wave.

ni-ki watched you go, his hand still resting on the seat where yours had been moments earlier. he sighed confused, running a hand through his hair.

"yeah, sure." he muttered to himself, half-heartedly returning your wave. his eyes watched you until you disappeared from view, and then he leaned back in his chair, the ache in his chest stronger than ever.

♱ classmate!niki who uses your birthday as his phone passcode.

♱ student!reader who's slowly getting more conscious and aware about how popular ni-ki is, but he's yours.

you went back to class where you notice girls were chatting together. "niki asked me to wait for him after class!" a girl squealed nearby, her excitement cutting through your thoughts.

your ears perked up liked a dog then stepped closer to eavesdrop.

"do you think he'll ask you out?" another girl added.

you scoffed audibly, unable to help yourself. the sound drew their attention and you froze as their curious gazes landed on you. blinking awkwardly, you mumbled an apology and quickly walked away.

you: are you busy after class?

you: are you going somewhere with someone?

ni-ki: oh, right. i'm just going to talk to the new class representative. like an orientation thing.

ni-ki: i can cancel, though.

you laughed loudly and shook your head.

you: no, no! don't cancel. we can hang out later.

later, the two of you were lounging on your couch, the TV playing in the background. ni-ki had his head resting on your lap, scrolling aimlessly on his phone but after a while, he sat and he set it aside. you could feel him staring at you.

"what?" you asked, not bothering to look away from your own phone.

he didn't answer immediately, instead he gently moved your hair to the side. his fingers were brushing lightly against your neck.

"stop." you muttered, still scrolling.

ni-ki chuckled softly. "i don't want to."

sighing, you set your phone aside as well, giving him an exasperated look. "why the hell do you keep doing this?"

"doing what?"

"i don't know, maybe the flirting, doing everything for me, following me around-"

"oh, i thought you already knew." ni-ki interrupted.

"knew what?"

"that i like you." he said casually, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

you blinked, taken aback, before scoffing. "how can you say that so casually…" you muttered under your breath.

he smirked at your reaction. "what? it's true. i thought you knew."

"i know that! but i just never heard you actually say it until now." you replied, your voice quieter than before.

ni-ki sat up slightly, cupping your face in his hands and forcing you to meet his gaze. "i like you, y/n."

you turned your head slightly. "i- i said i know that… you don't have to repeat it."

his lips curved into a mischievous smile. "you shy?"

you pushed his hands away, cheeks flushed. "i'm not!"

ni-ki didn't buy it, a chuckle escaped his lips. he reached down and grabbed one of your thighs, effortlessly pulling it over his lap.

"i bet you're going to stop being like this once i become your girlfriend." you mumbled.

he shook his head with a smirk. "hmm, i don't think so."

"rea- really?"

he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your cheek. "yes," he murmured. then, his arms wrapped around you. "come closer."

you scooted closer to him, your heart pounding as he tilted his head, capturing your lips in a series of soft, gentle kisses. slowly, the kisses deepened, his hands sliding to your waist.

your hands clutching the fabric of his shirt as his lips trailed down your jawline, every touch of his lips on your skin made you shiver.

breathless, ni-ki paused, his lips hovering over yours.

"you're hard." you said.

he kissed you again, deeply before pulling away slightly. "it's okay."

"but i want to..." you whispered against his lips. ni-ki smiled, reaching down and with a slow, deliberate motion, pulled his pants down, revealing his erection that's pulsing with anticipation.

he felt a rush of heat as your eyes locked onto him, the intensity in your gaze sending shivers down his spine. he reached out, cupping your cheek, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw.

his cock throbbed when he felt your fingers around it, light as feathers, stroking his hard length.

ni-ki's breath hitched as you lowered your head, your lips following the path your fingers had taken. "that's good..." he groaned out as you took him in your mouth. the sensation was electrifying, sending waves of pleasure crashing through him. your head bobbing up and down, gagging each time his cock hit the back of your throat.

he gripped your hair, his fingers tangling tightly in the soft strands causing slight pain you chose to ignore.

"yes, just like that." he managed to gasp, breath catching in his throat while arching into your mouth as the pleasure became overwhelming. ni-ki shuddered, a deep guttural sound escaping him, hips bucking wildly as he came, a hot burst of release flooding your mouth.

cum started to drip in the corner of your mouth, "don't let it out." he said, wiping the remains as he watched you swallowed it like a good girl, your eyes locked on his.

you sat beside him with a smirk playing on your lips. "you're a freak."

ni-ki chuckled at your remark. "for you."

you started making out again, the kiss charged with the afterglow of what had just happened. then you felt his hand slip down, stroking his member, which was already starting to stiffen again.

"you're still hard..."

"i know, right?" ni-ki groaned, looking so needy. "can i put it inside you?"

a/n: the only way i could write these days lol

please read Nishimura Riki as your boyfriend

read part-timers!niki x reader

read part-timers!niki x reader part 2

read snitch - reader x niki

read touché - niki x reader

read touché - niki x reader part 2

read exes - niki x reader

[prettygirl-gabi]

Title: Spicy Noodles Challenge

Rating: General Audiences

Warning: paige being a tease, Paige almost losing her life.

Paring: Paige Bueckers x fem reader x Azzi Fudd

Fandom: UConn's Women's basketball

Summary: spicy ramen and sheer willpower

TikTok Live was rolling, the ring light illuminating my face as I stared at the terrifyingly red bowl of noodles in front of me. Aubrey and Caroline sat beside me, all of us mentally preparing for what we were about to endure. The rest of the UConn women’s basketball team was gathered around us, off-camera but fully invested in our suffering.

"Alright, y’all," Aubrey said dramatically, looking at the screen. "We’re doing the spicy noodle challenge, and I already know I’m not making it out alive."

"Me either," Caroline added, shaking her head. "Why did I let y’all talk me into this?"

I scoffed. "Y’all got nothing to worry about. I have a reputation to uphold."

The comments were already flying in.

@p.y.aluver: "Y/n's about to humble everyone."

@UConnsfavtoy: "Paige and Azzi gon’ clown her if she starts crying."

@Purplepaigepurples: "Why do I feel like Aubrey is gonna tap out first?"

Paige and Azzi were standing behind me, flanking either side like my own personal hype squad—and personal menace squad. Paige rested her chin on the top of my head, peering down at my bowl.

"You sure about that, babe?" she teased. "‘Cause that looks lethal."

Azzi smirked, wrapping an arm around my shoulder. "Don’t get cocky now. You know you can’t handle spice."

I nudged her off me. "Y’all are so fake. Where’s the encouragement?"

Azzi patted my back. "You got this, baby."

Paige shrugged. "Yeah. You got this, but if you cry, just know I’m laughing."

KK Arnold snickered from the side. "You already know Paige and Azzi about to be the worst cheerleaders."

"I am offended," Paige said dramatically. "I support my girl in every way."

Azzi nodded. "Yeah, we just support her… with a little bit of clowning included."

Aubrey clapped her hands. "Okay, okay, less talking, more suffering. Let’s go."

We counted down together.

"Three… two… one—go!"

I took my first bite, and immediately, I felt the heat punch me in the throat. The spice didn’t creep up—it attacked. My tongue burned, my lips tingled, and my throat felt like I had swallowed actual fire.

Beside me, Aubrey was already gagging. "Nah. Nope. I’m out."

Caroline had taken one bite and was chugging her water like her life depended on it.

I powered through, despite my taste buds screaming at me to stop. My eyes watered, my nose was already running, and I could feel Paige and Azzi watching me, waiting for me to break.

"You good, baby?" Azzi asked, rubbing my back.

I nodded, swallowing another bite. "Yup."

Paige tilted her head. "Are you crying?"

I shot her a glare. "No."

The comments were going crazy.

@paxazxyn35: "Y/N IS STRUGGLING OMG LMAOOO."

@aubreyslefttoe: "Paige just wants to see her suffer 💀"

@ynrealluver: "Aubrey is already gone, Caroline is barely hanging on, but Y/N IS STILL FIGHTING."

Azzi handed me a napkin as I sniffled. "Babe, your nose—"

I wiped my nose quickly, taking another bite even though my throat felt like sandpaper.

"She’s fighting for her life," Ice Brady laughed.

"Ice, be useful and get me some milk," I croaked out, voice slightly hoarse.

Paige raised an eyebrow. "Oh, you need something?"

I exhaled, trying to cool my mouth down. "Yes, I need milk, now."

Paige smirked, holding up a glass of milk she had magically produced from somewhere. "I’ll give it to you… but you gotta kiss me for it."

I stared at her, deadpan. "Paige. Madison. Bueckers, if you don’t hand me that damn milk—"

Azzi, bless her soul, grabbed a different glass from the side and handed it to me before I committed a crime. "Here, baby."

I immediately chugged the milk, sighing in relief as the burn subsided slightly.

Paige pouted. "Wow, Azzi. You’re ruining my fun."

Azzi rolled her eyes. "You were gonna ruin your own fun when she knocked you out on live."

I slammed my glass down dramatically, after regaining the ability to truly speak. "I WIN. I FINISHED IT ALL."

The team burst into cheers and laughter, clapping for me.

"A TRUE CHAMPION," Aubrey declared, even though she had up two minutes ago.

Caroline wiped her own watery eyes. "I don’t know how you did that."

"Sheer willpower," I said, sniffling.

Paige kissed the top of my head. "Proud of you, baby. Even though you look like you just fought for your life."

Azzi cupped my cheeks, looking at me with faux concern. "Do you regret it, though?"

I leaned into her hands, sighing dramatically. "Yes."

Paige and Azzi both laughed before kissing me on either cheek at the same time.

"Never doing that again," I mumbled, still sniffling.

The chat was blowing up with laughing emojis and comments, but the best part? The stolen kisses, the teasing, and the way my girlfriends never let me suffer too much.

---

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-Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

-prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

[paulmescalsbiceps]

hey it’s me again, sorry, but I’m completely enchanted by your james! soooo, you had written one where the reader went on a bad date, what do you think about doing the opposite? where james ends up going on a date and the reader starts feeling jealousy super strange emotions - 🍓

𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐉𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐚 𝐃𝐚𝐭𝐞 ☾ *･ﾟ roommate!jamespotter x reader wc: 1k a/n: 🍓 anon you are literally my love <3

James left less than a half hour ago. He’d tamed his usually feral hair tidy for his date tonight. You’d spent the afternoon watching him meticulously as he got ready. He looked good. His red button up shirt looked incredible against his tan skin, and paired well with his dark eyes. Nerves seemed to cease when it came to James. He was nothing but confident when it came to dating, despite not even knowing the girl.

“So how’d you’d meet her?” You had asked, sitting perched on the edge of James bed. It wasn't unusual for the two of you to linger in each other's rooms as the other got ready. You can recall many weekend’s where James has sat comfortably in your bed admiring you getting ready for a night out. Now it was your turn to watch James, except it didn't quite feel the same as you sat with a sour feeling in your lower stomach. 

“Sirius introduced me to her. Apparently she works near the same building as me so he thought it might be worth a shot, y’know similar jobs and all” James fiddled with the hem of his shirt, tugging it down. You were happy for James, really, he deserved to get to go out for dinner with a pretty girl. But that didn’t stop your heart from feeling weak. 

Pining after James was exhausting especially when you share the same living space. You get to see him as honest as he can be. The way his nose scrunches up when tries really hard to focus on what's happening on tv. His cute little signs and groans when he’s bored and craves your attention. And now you have to watch him as he pulls at the strands of his hair, smooth tongue slightly stuck out the corner of his mouth, desperate for it to be perfect for this girl.

There’s a strange ache at the bottom of your stomach at the thought of him wanting to please this girl. You're sure she’s nice and as perfect as Sirius claims and really what more could you want for James? But the idea that some other woman could be James' girl and not you. Hurts. 

Moving to the lounge room you decide you need to distract yourself from his date. Searching through the channels you settle on a nostalgic 2000s rom-com. 13 going on 30, a true classic. Bag of Malteasers by your side, your mind floats away from James as you lock in on the movie in front of you. 

James is not slick with his entry home. His heavy body practically crashes into the wall as he attempts to take his shoes off while standing. You’d fallen asleep on the couch, movie long forgotten and eyes still adjusting to the light as you wake at the sound.

You can tell from his body language that James was happy, bringing an ache to your heart. God, was she really that good? James had never looked so happy after being around you before. At least to your knowledge.

“How was your date?” James was clearly not aware of your presence as he jolted back clutching his chest at the sound of your voice. “Didn’t think you’d still be up. Save any chocolate for me?” he grinned at you with a boyish smile, eyes beaming with glee. 

He moved to sit next to you, knee now touching yours. He smelt differently than usually, like perfume. God that hurt to think about. Did he hug her, did he kiss her? Nope, do not think about him kissing her. 

You could see him watching you spiral, warm eyes looking at your profile gently. He moved back on the couch placing an arm around the couch behind you, pulling you to move back so you were resting against his arm. 

His touch was so gentle, as was his presence. He was as equally comforting as he was distracting. “It was good, we work in the same department, just different buildings so that gave us something to talk about.” He explained, laying his head back and resting his eyes. 

“And..” You urged, wanting to hear all the details even if it made your stomach feel sick with jealousy. “And I don’t think we’ll be going on another date.” He confessed. His long fingers moved to play with the ends of your hair, fiddling the length between his fingertips. 

You had to hold back from letting out a sigh of relief. It’s not that you don’t want James to be happy, it’s just that you want it to be you. He took care of you. He flirted and called you sweet names like “pretty girl” and "lovey". Can you really be blamed for thinking there could be more between the two of you? 

Biting the inside of your cheek to hold back from exposing your satisfaction, you instead offer a small “I’m sorry to hear that.” 

“She wasn’t really my type anyways” James yawned his once smug expression now lost and replaced with complete contempt as if the couch was the most comfortable place he could be. “Spent the whole night waiting to be back home with you.” At that he stands, stretching his arms up high enough that it reveals his stomachs and the happy trails that lead down to his pelvis.  

“Well, I should be getting to bed, gotta go to the gym in the morning. You alright here?” He breathes out, placing his hands on your knees and leaning down close to your face. Before you can answer he places a soft kiss to your hairline before pulling back. 

There are no words to describe how hard your heart is beating. He leaned down. and kissed you. your hairline albeit, but he still kissed you. You couldn’t even make your voice speak to reply to him, afraid you'll just squeak. Instead you nod your head to assure him he’s ok to go to bed. 

He turned to leave the room, not before noticing what’s playing on the tv. “I used to love this movie when I was little. They remind me of us, don’t you think so lovey?” Voice sleepy as he continued down the hallway not even waiting for a reply. 

If James Potter had a nickel for every time he made your heart flip even just this evening. He’d be rich beyond belief.

find readers version at this drabble ₊˚⊹

[nomie-11]

Cock Block

masterlist!

synopsis: from what she could tell, Joel didn’t mean to be as annoying as he was. But after all, he was a father through and through, and what is a father if not a massive cock block? (18+ themes ahead!)

pairings: ellie williams x reader

Ellie was a decent romantic when she wanted to be—she knew you liked star gazing, knew you liked a bonfire, knew that one time when she and Joel were out on patrol and found a bag of marshmallows and something called ‘pre-made s’mores,’ and knew that the face you had made when she had offered a ‘s’more’ and then tried it was a face so beautiful she never wanted to forget it. 

So naturally she planned a whole night. Just you and her, a bonfire in Joel’s backyard, a blanket, some slightly stale s’mores, and the comfortable knowledge that Joel would be out with Tommy and Maria until well past midnight. 

She had been so excited, her hands up your shirt, un clipping your bra as your own hands tangled in her short hair, her lips moving hungrily against yours. Your breath hitched as she trailed her kisses lower down your jaw and neck, her fingers dancing along your waist, the warmth of the fire flickering across her flushed skin. 

And then—

CLANG. 

The sound of metal dropping against concrete shattered the moment. Ellie froze. You froze. Both of you turned your heads just in time to see Joel, standing awkwardly by the back door, a set of tools spilled out at his feet. 

“The hell are y’all doin’?” He asked, raising an eyebrow, and Ellie swore under her breath. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” She shot back, scrambling to sit up and subtly smoothing down your shirt. 

Joel scratched the back of his neck, entirely oblivious (or just choosing to ignore) the murder in Ellie’s eyes. “Tommy’s got a busted sink. Though I left my wrench set back here.” He bent down, picking up the tools one by one. “Didn’t mean to—uh—interrupt,” 

“You always interrupt,” Ellie muttered. 

Joel paused, looking up with that signature dad squint. “What was that, young lady?” 

“Nothing,” Ellie mumbled, running a hand down her face. 

Joel finally gathered his tools, gave you both a nod, and disappeared back inside. The second the door clicked shut, Ellie groaned, collapsing onto your lap. 

“I swear to god, he’s got some sixth sense for this shit,” she whined. “He wasn’t even supposed to be here!”

You giggled, running your fingers through her hair. “Maybe he just wanted to make sure we weren’t burning the house down.” 

Ellie peeked up at you, deadpan. “Yeah? Well, the only thing on fire here is my frustration.”

——————————

You and Ellie had been curled up on the couch, a rare moment of peace between the two of you with patrols and chores. A movie—one of the few that Ellie liked—played in the background, but neither of you were paying attention. Ellie’s hands were resting dangerously low on your hips, your lips against her neck, trailing soft, open-mouthed kisses that sent shivers down her spine. 

She exhaled sharply, tilting her head back to give you more access. “Ellie,” you murmured, gripping her tank top and tugging her closer. 

“Yeah?” Her voice was low, breathy. Her fingers started sliding beneath the waistband of your jeans—

The front door creaked open. 

“Ellie?” 

You practically leapt off the couch, the two of you scrambling to look as normal as possible. Joel stood in the doorway, taking off his jacket, completely unaware of the moment he had just ruined. 

Ellie gritted her teeth. “Joel.” 

Joel furrowed his brows. “What?”

Ellie forced a tight smile that he definitely could tell was painfully not real. “Didn’t you say you were going to the bar?” 

“Yeah, but I forgot my hat.” He walked right past you both, grabbing his old, worn out stupid cowboy hat from the kitchen table. “Y’all are actin’ weird.” 

You cleared your throat, cheeks burning. “Nope. Just—watching a movie.” 

Joel squinted at the TV, where a paused scene of some Star Wars movie was frozen on the screen. He hummed, clearly not convinced. “Your aunt know you’re out here messin’ around?” 

“Yes sir,” You said with a mock salute, and he nodded, not saying anything as he adjusted his hat and headed back out. 

The second the door closed, Ellie buried her face in her hands. 

“This is a curse,” she muttered. 

————————————

It had been an exhausting day—long patrol back weather, and a particularly nasty clicker encounter. By the time you and Ellie got back to Jackson, all either of you wanted was a hot shower. 

Ellie, being the ever-so-generous girlfriend, had offered to let you go first. But the second you stepped into the steaming water, she apparently decided that waiting was overrated. 

“Mind if I join?” Ellie’s voice called through the bathroom door, a teasing lilt to it.

You barely had time to register what was happening before the door creaked open and Ellie stepped inside, a wicked grin on her face. “Saves water, y’know. Gotta do our part for the environment.” 

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the way your heart pounded as she started pulling off her shirt, eyes roaming her toned torso. “Uh-huh. Despite the climate change problem being solved by the world ending, that’s very responsible of you.” 

She winked, stepping toward the shower. “Just doing my civic duty.” 

Her hands were on the clasp of her bra when—

Knock, knock, knock. 

“Ellie, you in there?”

Joel. 

Ellie let out a strangled groan. “Are you serious right now?” 

The door handle jiggled, and Ellie yanked her shirt back on in frustration. “What, Joel?” 

“You left your damn jacket on the porch. It’s rainin,’ and I ain’t about to have you gettin’ sick.” 

Ellie pinched the bridge of her nose. “Joel, I do not care about my jacket right now.” 

There was a long silence. 

“You, uh… you decent?” 

Ellie turned to you, her expression pure suffering. You just bit your lip, suppressing a laugh. 

“Yes, Joel. I’m decent.”

The door cracked open just enough for him to toss the damp jacket inside before it shut again. 

“You’re welcome,” Joel called before his footsteps faded down the hall. 

Ellie just stood there for a moment, hands clenched into fists at her sides. “I swear to god—”

You patted her arm sympathetically. “We have the worst luck.” 

She let out a dramatic sigh, climbing into the shower behind you. “This is beyond luck. This is divine intervention.” 

——————————

It had officially become ridiculous. 

Ellie was done playing it cool. Done brushing it off as bad timing. Done with the constant interruptions. 

So when she finally managed to get you alone in her room, with the door locked, no patrol duties, no chores, and no Joel anywhere in sight—she took full advantage. 

She had you pressed against the bed, her lips moving feverishly against yours, fingers slipped up the hem of your shirt.  You moaned into her touch, hands gripping her hoodie as she pressed you impossibly further into the mattress. 

Fucking finally. 

And then—

Knock, knock, kncck!

Ellie froze. 

Your eyes widened in horror. “No. No way.” 

“Ellie?” 

Ellie let out a guttural, borderline inhuman noise. 

“I swear to god, Joel, if you—”

“You left the lights on in the kitchen,” Joel called through the door. “Electricity ain’t free, kiddo.” 

Ellie pulled away from you, running both hands down her face. “We live off hydroelectric power—it is free.” 

There was a brief pause. 

“You better not be doin’ anything stupid in there.” 

“Joel,” Ellie growled. 

You bit your lip, trying not to laugh as Joel continued. 

“You got protection, at least?” 

“OH MY GOD.” Ellie practically launched herself off the bed. “Joel, we can’t even get pregnant!”

Silence. Then, Joel muttered, almost to himself—

“Knowin’ you, I think a miracle could happen.” 

Ellie gaped at the door, hands raised in pure, unfiltered exasperation. “You are literally, clinically insane.” 

“Just sayin’.” 

Ellie banged her forehead against the door. “Do you have some plan to make sure I get no action until I’m forty!?”

“Alright, alright. Y’all be safe.”

His footsteps retreated down the hall. 

Ellie turned back to you, looking completely, utterly done. You just stared at her, then burst into laughter. 

“This isn’t funny,” she whined. 

“It’s very funny.” 

Ellie flopped onto the bed beside you, staring at the ceiling. “I’m moving out. I’m gonna build a cabin in the woods. No dads allowed.”

You grinned, leaning over to kiss her. “I’ll visit.” 

She turned her head to look at you, eyes softening just a little. “…you better.”

—————————————

Ellie got some action next Thursday at 3:43 p.m. while Tommy and Joel had gone out on a fishing trip. When you found Ellie’s journal opened to a page with a sketch of your face, you saw it read; ‘mmmm, sweet victory! Pussy never tasted so good!’

im a wreck. The house was empty when she got back.

If you liked this one shot, please check out my other series!

[arathejedi394]

i call this one "sugar, you're rationed."

Natasha kicks open the door of their appointed safe house and leads the group in. Sam rubs at his eyes, walking on dead feet behind her.

"I am getting tired of your excuses!" Steve shouts over his shoulder at Barnes.

"Oh, excuses, excuse me!" Barnes countered.

"Oh, you fucking --" Steve snarls, whipping around. "You cocky sonuvabitch!"

"My mother would be very offended," Barnes snaps, jabbing a finger at him. "She'd take back your quilt."

"Gah!" Steve screams, flinging his gloves onto the ground.

They've been at it for the past twenty minutes now and they're all a little tired of it.

“I'm turning off my hearing aids,” Clint hisses to Sam.

“Kinda jealous, not gonna lie,” he mutters back.

“What, what do you want me to say?” Barnes interrupts Steve. “I saw the shot and I took it!”

“A truck exploded!” Steve snarls back, throwing his shield so hard it hits a wall and sticks in it, cracking it.

“I hope that wasn't load-bearing,” Tony says.

“It was an empty truck!” Barnes snaps. "I broke the blockade, didn't I!"

“It was an empty CONCRETE truck!” Steve roars. “How many times do I have to get on your hairy fat ass about minimizing damage to public infrastructure!”

“Gross mental image, Cap,” Tony cuts in.

“Shut up!” Steve yells, now aiming his irate pointing finger at him. “And you!” he hisses at Barnes. “You're cut off!”

“What?” Barnes says, suddenly quite sober.

"Sugar, this time it's you that's rationed!" Steve shrieks.

"What!" Barnes gasps.

“For a week!” Steve keeps yelling. “No, a month! I won't even let you look at me!”

“What, wait, hold on,” Barnes starts stammering, darting forward hands outstretched and even bending his knees like he's pleading, “let's talk about this, okay, honestly, it was a complete accident, I meant to use a sonic grenade and I accidentally grabbed a frag, it happens!”

“And no showertime!” Steve shouts, then he pivots and stomps up the stairs.

"Nonono!" Barnes yells back, chasing after him. “Stevie, Stevie, my angel, my most precious only ever, let's talk about this! A month?! My dominant hand is metal, for Christ's sake! That ain't fair an’ you know it! Baby, don' do this t'a me!”

“Use your right hand!”

Barnes continues to babble for his case as he dogs Steve's heels down the upstairs hallway. A door slams shut. Sam nods slowly.

“That's what you get for being a dumbass,” he says.

“Wait a minute,” Tony says, frowning heavily. He wipes blood from his eye quickly; Sam hands him a pack of Kleenex. “Thanks,” he adds. “What conversation did we just overhear?”

“I wasn't looking at them,” Clint says.

“I think Barnes is fucking Cap,” Tony says.

Clint blinks, then he quickly reaches up and turns his hearing aids back on. “What?”

“They’re fucking,” Sam repeats.

“You knew!” Tony gasps.

Natasha gives him a dead-eyed look. “Thor knows,” she says. “Everyone knows.”

“You mean we were the only ones who didn't know the Terminator is fucking our fearless leader!” Tony yells.

“SHUDDUP!” Barnes and Steve bellow from upstairs. 

“What?” Tony asks. “Was it something I said?”

"My precious only ever," Sam repeats under his breath, wrinkling his nose. "It's like Disney Channel had a love child with Adult Swim."

"I know, right?" Natasha says, offering him a bottle.

Sam looks. It's vodka. He doesn't know where she got it, but he wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

[biblical-chronicles]

Derby day

___________________________________

where the two of you attend a game and Noel has an interesting suggestion regarding what should be written on your kit.

___________________________________

It had been a crisp, cool evening in Manchester, the kind where the floodlights of the Etihad burned bright against the darkening sky. The energy was great per usual, chants echoing from the stands and scarves being swung above heads, creating a perfect atmosphere for the night.

And, quite frankly, the perfect night for you too, tucked up next to Noel in your seats, his arm draped lazily over the back of yours as he leaned in close, murmuring bits of commentary in your ear that were half insightful, half taking the piss.

“Fucking ‘ell, look at him,” he muttered, gesturing toward the pitch as the players warmed up. “Lad runs like he’s got bricks in his boots.”

You snorted, nudging his side. “You’d do better, would ya?”

“Absolutely,” he said, with the blind confidence only he could possess. “Stick me up front, I’d have this lot cryin’ into their pints. I'd be doing better than Foden at the moment, that's for sure.”

You rolled your eyes, but before you could say anything else, the roar of the crowd signaled kick-off. Immediately, the two of you sat up straighter, eyes locked onto the pitch. The game started fast—City on the front foot, pressing high, moving the ball around with ease.

And then, just like that, the first goal went in.

The stadium erupted. The two of you shot up, cheering along with the thousands around you, Noel pumping his fist in the air before turning to you, grinning like a madman. Without a second thought, he grabbed your face and kissed you, quick and firm, like it was just part of the celebration.

You laughed against his lips, still breathless. “That a new tradition, then?”

He shrugged, eyes twinkling. “You complaining?”

You weren’t.

The second goal came not long after, a beautiful strike that sent the whole place into limbs. This time, you turned to him first, barely able to contain your excitement, and he was already waiting—hands in your hair, mouth on yours, like kissing you was just as important as the goal itself.

By the time the halftime whistle blew, your voice was hoarse, your cheeks a little sore from smiling so much. The energy in the stadium was still buzzing as people started filing out for drinks, snacks, and whatever tactical breakdown they could squeeze into fifteen minutes.

Noel stretched, rolling his shoulders before giving you a nudge. “Come on then, let’s get a drink before this lot drain the bar dry.”

You followed him into the hospitality area, the atmosphere still thick with excitement, conversations overlapping in a constant hum. You both weaved through the crowd until you reached the bar, Noel ordering a couple of drinks while you took a quick glance around. That’s when you spotted them, the cbs golazo crew standing behind a desk off to the side, mics in hand, deep in discussion about the match.

Your interest piqued. You nudged Noel’s arm, tilting your head toward them. “Reckon they’re talking shit or actually making sense?”

He took a sip of his drink before following your gaze, his mouth twitching into a smirk. “Depends. If they’re sayin’ we’re class, they know ball. If they’re sayin’ owt else, they’re clueless.”

You chuckled, shaking your head as you leaned back against the bar.

Noel's arm draped lazily around your waist, fingers tracing light, absentminded patterns against your side. His head was practically in your hair, his breath warm against your temple as he leaned in close, completely at ease with you pressed against him.

You nudged him gently, tilting your head toward the desk across the room again. “Look.” you murmured, and felt more than heard the low hum of acknowledgment from him, his lips just barely brushing your hairline as he turned to follow your gaze.

Micah and Carragher were mid-argument, voices raised, hands waving dramatically, with Micah holding up the brand-new City third kit like he was trying to sell it on a shopping channel.

“I’m tellin’ ya, it’s class!” Micah insisted, gripping the shirt like it was a sacred relic.

Carragher scoffed. “Class? That? It’s an absolute state.”

Micah’s eyes darted around the room, looking for backup—then suddenly lit up when he spotted you and Noel. “Oh, perfect,” he announced, pointing. “Noel Gallagher himself—maybe he’ll settle this.”

Noel sighed, shaking his head. “Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

You laughed, nudging him again. “Come on, I love this show.”

He exhaled dramatically, but was already following you over. “You proper owe me for this.”

As soon as you reached the desk, you were met with big grins and handshakes. Micah, gave you a warm greeting before tilting his head playfully. “Alright, serious question. Are you a City fan, or is he”—he nodded toward Noel—“forcing you into it?”

You laughed. “Nah, no forcing needed—I’m City through and through. Been a fan since I was a kid.”

As you spoke, Noel turned to look at you, his usual smirk softening into something much fonder. It wasn’t just that he was proud—you could see it in his eyes, in the way his face relaxed, in the way his lips parted like he was halfway to smiling without even realizing.

But the second Micah turned to him, his expression dropped right back into his usual deadpan.

“So, Noel,” Micah said, clearly amused at the shift, “thoughts on the new third kit?” He held up the shirt again with a little flourish.

Noel barely spared it a glance. “It’s alright. A kit’s a kit.”

Carragher groaned. “Oh, come on—give us something!”

You snorted, shaking your head. “That’s it? That’s all you’ve got?”

Noel just shrugged. “What d’you want? It’s red. It’s got a badge. They’ll play footie in it. Job done.”

You rolled your eyes but turned back to the table. “I mean, I like it, but there’ve been better ones. The 92/94 away kit was miles ahead, clean design, the purple was a brilliant choice as well.”

A chorus of “Ooooh's” echoed around the table.

Noel perked up, nodding approvingly. “Oh, yeah—she knows retro kits.”

Micah grinned, pointing at you. “Alright, I rate that answer. What about the kit you’ve got on now?”

You glanced down at your shirt before answering. “97/99 home kit.”

Carragher gave a slow nod. “Proper fan, then. Got a player on the back?”

You shook your head. “Nah, just a plain one.”

And without missing a beat, Noel casually muttered, “If I play me cards right, there’s gonna be Gallagher written on it.”

Silence.

Absolute silence.

Then chaos.

Micah and Carragher lost it, Micah doubling over onto Carragher’s shoulder, Jamie wheezing as he slapped the desk.

You froze for a split second before your brain fully caught up to what he’d just said, and then—your hands flew to your face as you borderline hid behind the desk, laughing through your own mortification. Your face was on fire.

Micah, barely able to breathe, turned dramatically toward the camera. “You heard it here first! Noel Gallagher, City fan legend, romantic extraordinaire—wedding announcement pending.”

Carragher, shook his head. “That might be the best thing we’ve ever had on this show today.”

Noel, finally realizing the sheer chaos he’d just caused, went a little pink himself—but instead of backtracking, he just crossed his arms and smirked. “Dunno why you lot are actin’ shocked. I like me missus very much.”

Micah leaned toward the camera, pointing directly at it. “Clip that.”

Just then, the stadium announcement saved you.

“The second half is about to begin—please make your way back to your seats.”

You practically jumped at the escape. “Oh wow, look at that, gotta go—shame.”

Micah, still grinning, called after you. “Ohhh, this is going everywhere.”

Noel just chuckled, throwing an arm over your shoulders as you walked off. “Worth it.”

You side-eyed him, still red. “You planned that, didn’t you?”

He squeezed your shoulder. “Not me fault you’re a natural fit for a Gallagher shirt, love.”

___________________________________

cute little story for today, hope you like it xx

I am still salty about that arsenal loss ... love cbs golazo though, micah and carragher are the best out of the lot

also love a retro kit come on, and the kit Noel designed is absolute class as well, love the collar on it and the colours + it's actually his handwriting on it

[witchygagirlwrites]

Broken Bonds-Part 33

Greg "Mouse" Gerwitz x Reader, Jay Halstead x Hailey Upton, Coparenting Jay Halstead x Reader

When intelligence finally closes a bank robbery case you want nothing more than to go home to Mouse and Addy

Warnings: some cursing, violence, someone dying of a gunshot wound, NSFW happenings (these 2 are engaged and obsessed with each other always have been) also Detective Kidd being Hank's favorite if that's a warning?!?

“Silent alarm triggered at the check cashing center on the corner of Andrews and South Avenue” you cut your eyes at Kevin. You and him were half a block away “Intelligence responding. Detectives Atwater and Kidd”  he called over the radio and dispatch responded. You busted a u-turn in your jeep and hit the gas.

Kevin reached in the backseat and passed you your vest, helping you to fasten the straps as you drove before pulling his own over his head. The moment you parked across from the check cashing center you tightened the straps on his vest and nodded to him before the two of you stepped out. 

You spotted the lights on the outside of the building and nodded to him “There’s the alarm” he pulled the radio up to his mouth “Hold us down on location and send us some backup” “Copy that” dispatch responded so he slid the radio onto his belt and nodded to you, you both falling into place at each other’s side as you walked towards the building.

You looked at him and he nodded so you opened the door and spotted the security guard laying in the middle of the floor bleeding. Kevin started to step in about the same time you heard a woman scream and shooting start. He shook his head but you nodded “Handle this, I got it” “Kidd!” he hollered but you were already headed towards the sounds of the screams.

You ran around the corner of the building but were forced back when the gunfire turned towards you.You ducked around the corner, hitting your radio with your left as you returned fire with your right “Where’s that backup dispatch?!?” you heard the dispatcher putting a wide call out over the radio but spotted three men running for a car so you stepped out, aiming for the back window. You kept shooting as they sped off.

“Help us!” you heard someone holler and turned to see a man standing over a woman who’d been shot. You hit your radio “Send me an ambulance. We have a civilian hit” you ran over to  the man and kneeled at the woman’s side. Your eyes skimmed over the blood spreading under her, your eyes widening. “Shit” you scrambled to get your vest off so you could strip your over shirt off to use to hold pressure to her wound. The man moved to help you when he saw what you were doing, using his flannel as well. “Hey, what’s your name?”

She took a staggered breath “Monica” you smiled “Ok Monica, you’re gonna stay awake and talk to me until the ambulance gets here.You got that?” she winced when you pressed down harder on her wound “Ok” you nodded, eyeing the wedding ring on her hand “How long you been married” she swallowed hard “Ten years, was shopping for our anniversary” you nodded “Impressive. I just got engaged myself, any advice?” you looked around, finally hearing the sound of sirens falling on your ears. 

She laughed weakly “Never go to bed angry and never leave in the morning without saying I love you” you turned back to face her, seeing she was paler than she’d been a few moments before “That’s good advice. I’ll pass it on to my fiance. When you get out of the hospital I may come see you for more,that good?” she smiled “Sure” 

You stood next to Kevin, running down everything you knew for Hank and the rest of the unit. “Hey, Jay’s got a henley in the truck I can grab you” Hailey offered and you shot her a smile “Please” she nodded and walked out of the check cashing center towards Jay’s truck. Sylvie had given you a bottle of sterile water and a handful of gauze to clean your hands but that still left you in just a plain white t-shirt that was splattered with blood. You hoped Monica would pull through.

Your fingers absentmindedly found your engagement ring, tracing the twisting band as you said “Witnesses said the perps avoided the cameras completely so I’m thinking they cased the place beforehand boss. Could be the same ones we’ve been looking for from that bank robbery a couple weeks back” Hank nodded “Sounds like it” “I got the plates on the car, we can run them” you offered and he nodded “Do it. Maybe we can get traffic cams on them and have something to go off of”

Hailey walked back in and passed you the black henley and you smiled as you took it from her. “I um I don’t know where to change” you spoke softly and Hank cut his eyes up then motioned to the manager of the check cashing center. She walked over “Yes Sergeant?” he motioned to you “Can my detective change in your office? She’s covered in blood and doesn’t exactly want it to dry on her” she nodded “Of course. Come with me, detective. I’ll show you” “Thank you” you whispered to Hank and he nodded as you walked past, following the woman.

After you changed out of the stained white shirt into Jay’s and had seen thankfully your sports bra was left unharmed you walked back out to the unit, wrapping the white shirt up in a ball, trying to hide the blood so any bystanders didn’t have the opportunity to gawk because that always annoyed the hell out of you.

Jay bumped your shoulder once you got back to his side and smiled slightly “You’ve been trying to steal that shirt now you roped her into finally getting it” you grinned at him “You know she loves me more” and winked at him before following Kevin out of the check cashing center to head back the precinct. You would try your hand at tracking the plates but if you needed help you could always enlist Gwen, that woman would probably pull satellite footage in the same time you could get a cell phone ping.

“Are you sure you’re ok?” you let out a breath at the concern in Mouse’s voice. “I’m fine, baby. We’re still waiting to hear back from med on whether or not Monica made it out of surgery, hence why I rang Gwen to help me track the plates” “Ok love. I know you’ve got this but when she told me you got shot at I had to hear your voice for myself” you smiled at his words “I know. I love you Greg. I’ll see you at home tonight, ok?” “Ok. I love you too” after the two of you told each other goodbye and hung up your tablet dinged where Gwen had sent over the traffic cam footage of the getaway car, along with the DMV registration of the driver. You grinned as you looked it over “Gwen you amazing woman you” the registration matched the physicality of at least one of the perps height and weight wise.  

“Voight!” you called, cutting your eyes up towards his office as you stood up from your desk. He walked to the door and nodded “What ya got Kidd?” you walked over and passed him the tablet “Gwen tracked the car and found DMV registration. I think the dumbasses used one of their own cars this time. We got em!” he scoffed as he looked it over “I’ll get a warrant”

You nodded, “I’ll get everyone rounded up” you started to walk off but stopped when he called your name. You glanced back and he nodded “Good pull catching those plates in the heat of the moment like that” you smiled slightly “Just doing my job Sarge” and walked back out into the bullpen.

About the time you got to your desk your phone rang again but this time it was Will’s name. You felt your stomach knot when you picked it up because he’d been the doctor that was there when they rolled Monica in “Hello?” “Hey sweetheart” yeah anytime Will started a phone call off to you that soft? Something was wrong. “She didn’t make it, did she?” you asked and he let out a breath “I’m sorry. I know you tried” you sighed “Yeah, sometimes that just isn’t enough is it? I’ll let the team know this case is up to a manslaughter charge at minimum along with the robberies. Thanks for calling” “Of course” he replied before you hung up.

Jay cut his eyes up at you “She didn’t make it” you told him and his shoulders fell “Damn” “You did what you could lil mama” Kevin assured you and you nodded “I know but damn. She was shopping for her tenth anniversary. How do you think her husband feels right now?”

Hailey met your eyes “We find them and nail their asses. That’s what we can offer her husband” you nodded “And we will” 

You stood in roll up between Kevin and Hailey, listening as Hank went over the layout of where you all believed they were. “We hit it all at once. Take no chances. They’ve killed at least one civilian that we know of. We have full authority to use whatever force is necessary to take them down”

You adjusted your vest, tucking your moon pendant down into it and clocked Jay doing the same with his st michael pendant which caused a small smile to slip onto your face considering they were both “from Addy” 

With any luck these jackasses would either be dead or behind bars in a couple hours time. You intended to go meet with Monica’s husband either way afterward to give condolences and to let him know some form of justice had indeed been served. 

Kevin turned your shoulder so he could check the straps at your back and you cut your eyes back at him “How about a hey Kidd turn around or a lil mama let me check your vest?” He grinned “You were thinking too loud. I needed to get your attention” you laughed lightly “And that’s why you’re the best friend Atwater.You can clock my bullshit from a mile away”

“Roll out” Hank ordered and everyone grabbed their long guns and headed for whatever cars they were taking.

________________________

When you pulled up to the house you cut your eyes at Kevin and nodded once before you two climbed out. You fell into step with him, one of your hands resting on his shoulder as the two of you fell into formation with the unit. Hank motioned for Kim and Adam to take the side, you and Kevin to take the back while he, Jay and Hailey took the front.

You glanced towards Jay then Hailey and hoped that look was enough to convey the message of “Please be careful” before you followed Kevin towards the back of the house. Once the two of you were in place you waited until Voight’s voice came across the coms “Take it” before you both kicked the same spot of the back door, it bouncing off the wall at the same time you heard the side door and front door be kicked in as well.

“CHICAGO PD. FREEZE” you called at the first man who moved for a gun. He paused for a second and locked eyes with you “Don’t” you warned but he dove for the gun anyways. His hand barely touched it before you and Kevin both fired a couple rounds a piece into him.

You stepped over him and moved into the rest of the house calling out an all clear from that room. 

_____________________

Instead of you having to seek out Monica’s husband he ended up coming to the precinct. After the two men that the unit had taken alive were booked and processed Steven Lyleson was standing at the front desk with Trudy. She called you downstairs when he’d asked for the detective that had been with his wife when she was shot.

You held out your hand “Mr Lyleson? I’m Detective Kidd, I was the first person on scene after your wife was shot. I rendered aid with what I had available. I’m just sorry I wasn’t able to do more”  he shook your hand and a tearful smile slipped onto his face “I know. I got to speak with her before she went into surgery. She spoke about the pretty detective who just got engaged” 

You smiled slightly “She told me you and she had been married ten years” he nodded “She was an amazing woman..” he trailed off then took a deep breath “I heard Intelligence closed the case?” you nodded “Yes sir. The um the man who actually fired the bullets that killed Monica pulled on my partner and I. He didn’t make it to the precinct”  

He nodded slowly “Good” “You have my deepest condolences sir. If you ever need anything or anyone to talk to, you know where I work” he smiled “Thank you Detective Kidd and congratulations on your engagement” “Thank you” you replied and he shook your hand once more before turning to walk out.

You took a deep breath then looked back at Trudy “That was a lot” she nodded “You good?” you laughed “I will be, once I get home to Mouse and Addy” she smiled “Yeah, I figured that” 

You walked into the apartment with Addy on your hip, smiling when you saw Mouse’s truck pull up into the parking spot next to your jeep when you turned to close the door. “Look baby, Mou is home” she grinned and waved.

You sat your bags down then walked back over to the door, leaning against the frame. You watched him get his stuff together then get out of his truck. She was already wiggling to get out of your arms. “No ma’am. Mou has to get inside first then you can abandon mommy for him” she laughed “I don’t badon you. I love you” you grinned “I know baby” 

You looked back up about the time Mouse’s eyes connected with yours and a grin split his face making your heart flip. “If it isn’t the two most beautiful women in all of Chicago” you raised an eyebrow “Just Chicago?” and he rolled his eyes “Really love?” you grinned as he made it into the door, closing it behind him and sitting his stuff down with yours. 

He walked over and placed a quick kiss to your lips before Addy reached for him and that was the end of you getting any attention for the moment “Mou, daddy and hayhay gonna take me to the zoo” he grinned “They are? What animals are you gonna see?” you shook your head “And with that, I’m gonna call to order a pizza since she ate an actual meal with Stella and Kelly and you obviously have her full attention at the moment”

He looked back at you with a grin “Don't worry love, you'll get attention later” then turned his eyes back to Addy as she told him about the lions at the zoo. The first time he found out her favorite animals were the predators he'd freaking cackled “Imagine that. I love that baby girl but a product of you and Jay? Did you think she'd want to see the cute and cuddly critters sweetheart?”

After the day you’d had though, you didn’t need anything more than to see him and Addy laughing with each other as she talked about the lions and tigers at the zoo. He was telling her about the different animals and her eyes got bigger with each one. He truly did love her. Not many men would come home to the woman they love having had a child with their best friend, accept the child, reform their friendship with said best friend and never for one second give up on the woman they loved.

He was fucking extraordinary, then again Jay was an amazing man as well. He’d stuck by your side through a pregnancy he really hadn’t had to. He was there for you every step of the way and was the absolute most amazing father you could ever have imagined for Adeline. Then for him to forgive you and be open to the friendship with Mouse again? Yeah you had two amazing men in your life and lucky for you they both thought your baby girl hung the moon. The added perks of Hailey coming along with Jay was just a bonus nowadays.

_________________________

You played with the sleeves of the henley you were wearing as you put away everything in your bag and hers then headed in her room to find her some pjs so you could give her a bath. When you walked back into the living room the two of them were sitting on the couch and he raised an eyebrow at you “Nice shirt by the way love” Addy looked up and her little face scrunched up in confusion “That daddy’s shirt” you cut your eyes at Mouse who smirked at you before you said  “Yeah baby. Mommy got her shirt dirty so hayhay gave me daddy’s shirt to wear”  She nodded “Oh tay” you smiled “Let’s go get you a bath” there was a knock on the door so you looked back at Mouse “That is probably the pizza so do you want to get that?” he nodded “Of course sweetheart”

You took Addy’s hand and she smiled “Mommy Mou say you like wolfs” you nodded “I do baby” and she grinned “They like the moon” you widened your eyes “They do?” as the two of you headed to the bathroom.

You left Addy’s room and walked into the living room where Mouse was sitting on the couch, the half eaten pizza you and him had long since abandoned on the coffee table in front of him. “She asleep baby?” you nodded “She’s out like a light. Of course she had to tell me that Mou told her he was gonna take her out for breakfast in the morning since she was staying with daddy and hayhay friday and saturday night” he grinned with a shrug “I know we’re meeting them on saturday for the aquarium but sweetheart, I’m gonna miss her hollering for Mou when she wakes up”

You shook your head and walked over to sit down next to him, pulling your feet up under you so you could lean over on his shoulder “You are absolutely wrapped around her little finger” he laughed “You know there is no other woman on the face of this earth that would ever come before you except for Adeline Halstead” you turned to look at him and couldn’t help but laugh, your heart flipping at the smile on his face “Did you ever think that would happen when you found out about her?” he stared at you for a long moment and for a second you feared maybe you’d hit a sore spot but a smile slipped onto his face “I knew I’d love her because I knew I could never stop loving you and she’s half you. Like it or hate, Jay’s my brother for better or worse. That little lady is a combination of the two people who kept me going when no one else tried. Why the hell would I ever feel anything but love for her?”

You smiled “You say no other woman but her, what if we ever have a child together?” When you asked that question the look he got on his face was enough to make your heart ache in the best of ways “If we ever have a child?” he asked quietly and you nodded “Yeah?” he pulled you over into his lap, so you turned to face him, letting your fingers slip up into his hair. It was getting a little more length on it and it would be a lie to say you didn’t absolutely love it. 

“Then you’d still be number two love. I’d never knock Addy down just because I had a biological child. I wouldn’t do that to her. That being said if we ever had a child? I would probably think I’d died and gone to heaven the first time I had you, Addy and that baby in my arms” 

“I love you more than I could possibly ever put words to Greg” you whispered and he smiled “I love you too. I’ve known how much you love me from the moment you and Kim got out of being pinned down in the middle of a shoot out and you ran straight to me. I just hope you know how much I love you” you smiled, tracing your left hand down the side of his face “You’re here, in my arms..you love my daughter…I know Greg…I could never doubt how much you love me”

He bought one hand up to cup the back of your neck before crashing his lips to yours. You let out a light sigh, every stress of the day finally starting to seep out of you at being in his arms. He licked into your mouth as he deepened the kiss and you gasped lightly, feeling his hands slip under the shirt you were wearing. He broke away from your lips to lean his forehead against yours, blue eyes drilling into yours “Why don’t we clean up out here then go to bed?” you smiled “Why don’t we go to bed and just clean up in the morning before we get Addy up?” he grinned “That works too”

As soon as you walked into the bedroom Mouse was pulling you back against his chest, hands slipping under your shirt as he spoke against the shell of your ear  “You know a lesser man may be jealous of you coming home wearing the father of your child’s shirt” you cut your eyes back at him and saw that damn smirk of his on his face. You raised an eyebrow “Good for me I’m not engaged to a lesser man huh?”

He kept playing with the hem of it “Can you take it off baby?” you turned to face him, a small smile on your lips “Does it actually bother you, me wearing one of Jay’s shirts?” he let his eyes skim down your body before they came back up to yours “I want to say no. I really do but it’s that caveman brain thing you love teasing us about love”

You laughed “In that case, can I suggest an idea?” he raised an eyebrow then “What’s that baby?” you pulled him down into a kiss and he groaned lightly against your lips before your hand slipped down to the buckle of his jeans and he gladly let you unbuckle them, kicking out of them before letting you work his shirt up, only breaking the kiss long enough to actually pull his shirt over his head.

He reached for your jeans and you let him unbuckle them, then he broke from your lips kissing down your jaw and neck as you kicked your jeans and panties off to the side. His eyes darkened as they roamed over you, a smile slipping onto his face “Well what was that idea baby?” You nodded to the bed “Get up there on the pillows love. Take your boxers off” “Yes ma’am” he replied, doing as you asked.

You waited until he was comfortable then climbed onto the bed with him. You crawled up his body to meet his lips in a deep, lingering kiss. He groaned against your mouth, tongue flicking past your lips to roll against yours. You straddled his waist, feeling his hardening cock against your thigh. You rolled your hips down against his, knowing he felt the heat of your core against his length even before his head fell back against the pillows, chest heaving as he fought to stay quiet. You moved from his lips down to his jaw then to his neck. You loved the fact that you knew each and every spot that would have his grip bruisingly tight on your hips.

You down his chest, your nails teasing the sensitive skin as well. His breathing was coming in light pants as he watched you, eyes blazing. When you got down to his hard cock you licked a strip from the base up to the head, a light moan of your name falling from his lips spurring you on. You wrapped your lips around him, going down slowly, taking as much as you could before you felt the tip hit the back of your throat, causing you to gag slightly.

You pulled back up, repeating the motion twice, taking more of him each time. His head fell back, hands gripping the comforter before he shook his head, hands reaching for you. “Sweetheart” you pulled off of him with a small noise and he grinned “I can’t last like that love” you grinned “Oh, then let me help you”

You slowly crawled back up him, when you got to his lips you caught his lips in a gentle kiss before lifting up to grip his hard length, lining him up with your entrance. He held your eyes as you sank down slowly. His hands slipped under the shirt you wore, long fingers spreading across your back as he watched your face while you took all of him. Once you were hip to hip, a full body shiver went through you at just how full you felt. He shifted his hips up causing you to gasp “Feel good?” he asked with a grin but by then the stretch had given way from pain to pleasure so you winked at him, moving your hips in a small circle “Does it?” you asked and he nodded “Amazing”

You laughed lightly as you started to move up then down, slowly fucking yourself on his cock. Once you were sure you could take it you braced your hands on his chest and started to bounce your hips, effectively fucking yourself. His head fell back against the pillow, hands gripping you so tight “I love you” he groaned lightly and you nodded before breathlessly whispering “I love you” you continued to rock your hips, knowing you were so damn close and could feel him start to thrust up to meet you. “Go ahead Greg, you know I can take it” you whispered and he groaned. He pulled you down to his chest, holding you against him before shifting to sit up.

Once he was in a sitting position his hands went to your hips and he started to move you up and down,forcing you both closer to that high. His hands gripped in the material of the henley you wore as your head fell over onto his shoulder. When your orgasm slapped into you your legs shook around him and you sobbed lightly into his neck as he buried himself into you with a final thrust before you felt him come, coating your walls. 

His hands were under the henley, tracing every inch of your back as he kissed across your neck. You cut your eyes up at him “Feel better about the damned shirt?” he grinned breathlessly “So much better love” you shook your head with a laugh “Good” and let your head fall over against his chest. He kissed your forehead gently “Soon as you catch your breath sweetheart we need to get a shower so we can get some form of pajamas on” you cut your eyes up at him “I don’t know if I can walk any time soon baby” he grinned “Don’t worry angel, I got ya” and you shook your head with a laugh “You’re such a sweet talker Gerwitz”

_____________________

You lay curled up against Mouse’s chest, his hand was under the camisole you were wearing, tracing shapes on your skin “We need to start planning” you spoke, cutting your eyes up at him and he smiled “Whenever you want baby. You know I’m here for anything”

You laughed and shook your head “Well I’ll take Stel and Hailey dress shopping with me, probably Kim too” he nodded “Of course” “Stella will be my maid of honor” he gasped playfully “You don’t say”

You cut your eyes up at him and he winked at you “I’m sorry beautiful. Ok ok. Is it weird if Jay is my best man?” you shrugged “Not in my opinion. You two have been through anything and everything at each other's side”  he laughed “Ain’t that the truth. What about other attendants?” you shrugged “I figured we’d just keep it small. Maid of honor, best man. Addy for the flower girl” he grinned “Of course little Miss for the flower girl and she’ll need to go dress shopping with the ladies and help to pick your dress and help to pick her own”

You grinned “Oh of course” he laughed lightly then his face got a little more serious “Who’s going to walk you down the aisle?” you smiled softly “I have an idea but I um I’m not sure about it?” he smiled slightly “What is it baby?” you shrugged “Well you know me and Stel don’t have biological family like that” he nodded, trying to encourage you to tell him. You felt your face warm “Well you know she got Chief Boden to give her away when she got married to Kelly” 

“Yeah?” he asked and you shrugged “Well I know we still have to decide a date and a location and so many other things but I was thinking about asking Hank if he’d give me away” a smile worked its way onto his face “I think he’d agree to it baby” you grinned “You do?” he nodded “Yeah love. You know you’ve always been one of his favorites.Now? Addy loves her papa Voight and I’m fairly certain he practically sees you as a daughter most days. I think he may tear up a bit”

You shook your head “Don’t exaggerate Greg” he grinned “How about we go together tomorrow evening while Addy is with Jay and Hailey. I’ll let you do the talking and I’ll just be there to be moral support” you nodded “Ok” he smiled “Ok. Now come here beautiful and let me hold you”

You were nervously fidgeting with your engagement ring as Mouse parked in front of Hank’s house. When you’d asked him if you and Mouse could stop by to talk to him about something you were fairly certain he probably thought either you were pregnant again or leaving the unit.

You just hoped he saw this as good?  Hopefully he said yes and it didn’t cross any lines? Mouse’s larger hand came over to cover yours “Breathe” you cut your eyes over at him and smiled “Thank you for coming with me” he traced your engagement ring “My job there love” you laughed lightly “Please Gerwitz. You’ve been in my corner from the moment you started at CPD”

He grinned “In my defense when I wasn’t doing so good and you stopped mid sentence to yell at Jay to and I quote shut the fuck up at him Halstead good god damn I kind of had no choice but to fall harder than I already was” you smiled “My god I love you” he laughed “Save it for the honeymoon Kidd” and winked at you before saying “I love you too baby”

______________________

You climbed out of his truck and he met you at the front of it, lacing his fingers in yours. You squeezed his hand lightly as the two of you walked to Hank’s door. Mouse knocked and a few moments later the door opened. Hank looked from one of you to the other “Mouse, Kidd. You two wanna come in?” he stepped back so you two stepped in.

Once he closed the door he directed you to the living room so you sat down on the couch while he sat in the chair across from it. You leaned up on the edge of the couch and felt Mouse’s hand on your lower back for reassurance “Where’s my granddaughter?” he asked with a smile so you laughed “With Jay and Hailey. They’re doing the zoo tomorrow then all four of us are doing the aquarium on sunday”

He nodded “Gotta say, you all do really good by her. Proud of you” you smiled broadly “Thank you” then cut your eyes back at Mouse who nodded so you took a deep breath then looked back at Hank “Well you know he proposed” he nodded “Yeah, I know. Have you two started planning yet?” 

You smiled slightly when Mouse spoke up and said “Kind of why we’re here” and gave your side a small squeeze. You cut your eyes back at him then nodded and looked back at Hank “Um you know me and Stel don’t have much in way of blood family” he nodded so you shrugged one shoulder “When her and Kelly got married Chief Boden gave her away and so I thought and if this is overstepping please tell me and I will just walk down the aisle by myself no harm no foul but would you possibly want to walk me down the aisle when Greg and I get married?”

Hank looked from you to Mouse, an unreadable look on his face before his eyes softened “You want me to give you away?” you nodded “You’re not perfect by any means Hank but you’re pretty damn close to a father figure to me  and Adeline loves her papa Voight.It would mean the world to me but like I said if it’s overstepping no hurt feelings”

He nodded slowly and to your shock, Mouse was right. He teared up slightly before he stood up and nodded “It would be my honor sweetheart” you grinned and before you thought of it you had jumped to your feet and hugged him. He froze for a second then hugged you back, patting your shoulder before releasing you “Just tell me when and where. You know I’ll show up”

You smiled broadly “Thank you so much” he nodded “Of course sweetheart” 

@desimarie12

@allisonargent144

@nevaehstreater18

@alexisquinnlee-bc

@courty-courtz00

@a-beaverhausen

[timdrakelvr]

Weekend at Bernie’s

synopsis: you dress up as Bernie for Halloween, see this post

warnings: mention of sex, little to no cursing, no other triggers apply

status: unfinished—I’ll finish it later

“Hey.”

“Hey—what are you wearing?” Tim asked, adjusting his fake mustache. It was Halloween night, and you had decided to drag him to a party. He was less than enthusiastic. But when you mentioned he could bring Kon—or Conner Kent, as you knew him—he agreed. He did suspect that you had only added that because you knew he would say yes.

“I’m Bernie.” You said confidently, adjusting your own fake mustache. His blank expression gave you pause, now you weren’t so confident. “…from Weekend at Bernie’s?”

Tim blinked.

“Did your parents not show you Weekend at Bernie’s? Two guys that work together visit their boss’s house. And their boss, Bernie, is dead. And they pretend he’s alive for the weekend. A woman has sex with Bernie’s corpse. Kids bury him in the sand. He wears sunglasses and this exact outfit.” You were shocked. Appalled even. You’d known his parents weren’t great, but you didn’t know they had denied him an education. This was unacceptable.

“Anyways, Conner will be here soon. And then we can go to the party.” Tim said after a moment, standing up from his desk and stretching his arms.

You snorted the second you saw his costume. “Luigi?”

“I like green, Bernie. And at least people can recognize what I’m supposed to be.”

You were offended, such cruel words shot from his mouth to your heart. You gasped, clutching your nonexistent pearls. “How dare you Timberly. How. Dare. You.” He raised an eyebrow in response as if to say “am I wrong?” He wasn’t. He never was. Not that you would stop trying to prove him wrong.

You huffed indignantly at his look, brushing off the cruel words from your cerulean jacket that remained unbuttoned. You had clearly put effort into the costume. Finding clothes that Tim knew to be out of fashion for decades. A baby blue and white thick-striped shirt, a cerulean Jean jacket, white khakis, and round circle hippie sunglasses. You’d even put a wig and a fake mustache on.

“So, where is this party, Bernie?” He asked, tucking his hands into his pockets.

“Nope. No party. I’ve decided, we need to sit and watch this movie.”

“What about Conner?”

“What about him? He’ll have to sit and watch with us.”

“…Are you sure? I want you guys to be friends but…”

“But what?” You asked, eyes looking anywhere but directly at Tim.

“He thinks you don’t like him. I think you don’t like him.”

“I don’t know him well enough to dislike him.” A crappy excuse. But you didn’t know how to explain to your best friend that his best friend made your skin crawl. Conner made you sweat. He made you tense. Aware of everything yet feeling like you know nothing. He wasn’t hiding something. You were sure about. Sure, Tim and his family were also hiding something, but at least they felt right. They felt human. Conner… didn’t. Not completely at least. He put you on edge.

“Fine. You don’t want to know him well enough.” Tim corrected with an irritated tone. You knew it had to hurt. Tim’s best friend just refused to get to know his other best friend.

“I… I’ll try tonight.” You said after a moment, offering him a small smile. He hummed un response and you took that as a chance to escape the conversation. You grabbed his hand and pulled him out of his room and down the stairs. Right before you got to the movie room—literally an at home theater, rich people are crazy—Conner arrived.

You felt it before you heard it. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up. Then you heard the door opening. Alfred didn’t greet him. He wasn’t even here. He was accompanying Damian and Jon—he gave you the same feeling that Conner did—while they went trick or treating. Jon’s suggestion, of course. You were secretly grateful that Damian wasn’t present. He was a cute kid but you always felt like he was just barely keeping from cursing you and your bloodline. He spoke like a Victorian child.

Conner walked into the room, already picking up on your discomfort. “Hey,” he said with what you just barely identified as confusion in his eyes.

“Wassup. Duuude…” Fuck. You were so fucking awkward right now. You slapped on what you hoped was a friendly grin. You looked like someone had a gun to your head.

Conner was dressed like Superboy. And… it kind of suited him…? “Superboy?” You asked, tilting your head curiously. He hummed and you nodded, “suits you.”

He looked genuinely surprised. And so did Tim. This was the first interaction where you weren’t treating him like a leper. “Thanks.” He said, still wide-eyed.

“Well, c’mon, we’re gonna watch Weekend At Bernie’s,” you said, pulling Tim towards the theater, glancing back at Conner.

— — —

So this is like totally unfinished, I’ll finish it later if I want to

tag list: @youallneedkopernik

[matchpointfaist]

college best friend! art 🏸˙✧˖° ༘ ⋆｡˚

stanford university ˋ°•*⁀➷ 2006

you and art were attending the birthday party of a mutual friend, some entirely too loud, keg stand affair on sorority row. you'd always hated shit like this, hated the skimpy dresses and the flashing lights and the way it always seemed to smell like vodka and cigarettes. art fit right in, despite his generally shy demeanor, all smiles and claps on the backs of his obnoxious guy friends, empty promises that he wouldn't leave without saying goodbye.

you spent the first hour glued to the sofa, an abandoned solo cup in one hand and your blackberry in the other, mindlessly scrolling through your contacts in an attempt to look busy. art had left you with a drink and a promise to return quickly, but your drink was half gone and he was nowhere to be seen.

finally, you spotted his familiar blonde hair through the crowd, a lazy smile on his lips as he returned to your side, "sorry, got caught up talking to the guys," he grinned as he flopped onto the sofa beside you, "you need another drink?" he was clearly drunk, or 3/4 of the way there, his eyes hazy and cheeks pink. "fuck it, why not?" you shrugged, "i don't have class tomorrow,"

so there you sat, legs dangling from your perch on the counter as art poured you each two shots, which you took with a grimace and tried your best not to gag. he took his own like a pro, smiling around the shot glass as he watched you.

two shots turned to three, which eventually turned to drinking straight from the bottle, art pouring the liquor straight into your mouth as you laughed. "you're a mess," he grinned as he wiped the corner of your lips with his thumb gently, smearing your lip gloss in the process.

you tried to ignore the way your cheeks heated at the contact; you were no stranger to art's touch, throughout all your time of friendship, but this felt different- charged, somehow. "we should dance," you found yourself telling him, trying to regain your composure as much as you could in your state.

you found yourself wrapped up in art, your back pressed against his chest and his arms draped around your waist, holding you to him as you danced to some fast paced, borderline trashy song. your vision was blurred by the alcohol and the cheap strobe light someone had hung on the ceiling, your heart pounding as his hands tightened on your hips, pulling you tighter, flush against his body.

"everybody's watching you," his breath against your ear would have been sobering had you not been so far gone, "prettiest girl in this room," your cheeks flushed deeper, the disagreement dying in your throat as his hands moved higher, ghosting over your ribs and chest, your skin burning as he brushed your hair from your neck, dropping his chin to rest on your shoulder.

"you fit so good against me," he mumbled against your skin, just inches from your hammering pulse point, "do you have any fucking idea how beautiful you look tonight?"

you twisted in his arms to look up at him, your lips parted as you took in his blissed out expression, the way he looked down at you with wide pupils and pink cheeks. "you're flirting with me," it came out like an accusation, your voice suddenly too loud after the tense silence, "why're you-"

his lips were on yours in an instant, cutting off your pointless question, kissing you like he'd die if he stopped, like the entirety of the room wasn't able to see, like every single passing moment between you had led to this. you were dizzy with the intensity of it, swaying in his arms until realization sunk in.

you pulled away, breathless, eyes wide as you blinked up at him, "art-" you all but panted, taking a stumbling step back, "we can't- what are you doing?"

you were out the door before you could see the stricken look on his face, before you could process the implications of the effects of this on your friendship.

art just stood there for a moment, in the space where you'd just been, his fingers pressed to his lips that tasted like vodka and your cotton candy lip balm. you stumbled home, collapsing into the single bed of your dorm, curled up in the hoodie art always left over.

he stayed at the party, trying to bury his yearning for you in some random blonde, kissing her with half the effort he'd given you, any satisfaction falling away when he opened his eyes and didn't find yours staring up at him.

[yunholic-jongholic]

Breaking the Silence | K.YS x Reader

SUMMARY | Yeosang was always quiet during sex, his shyness making him hold back. But his silence only fueled your determination—you went at it rougher, eager to draw out those sweet, reluctant moans from him.

PAIRINGS | Soft Dom!Yeosang x Fem!Reader

RATING | Mature, 18+, NSFW, MDNI!!!

CONTENT WARNINGS | One Shot, NSFW, SMUT, Explicit Content, Smut without Plot, Hair Pulling, Unprotected Sex (Don't do it), Cowgirl Position, Multiple Orgasms, Creampie, Hair pulling, Shower Sex, Blow Job/Oral Sex. (Sorry If I missed some!)

WORD COUNT | 1.5k

AUTHOR NOTE | Had to make a baby girl fanfic for my baby girl Yeo. <3 I love this man so much he is my baby girl. that's my baby girl.

•

After finishing a passionate session with Yeosang, you headed to the shower, your mind focused on how to elicit those pleasurable moans from him during your next encounter. You were aware of his deep affection for you, yet he remained quite shy. You have always wanted to hear him moan since you've both been making love with each other.

Your relationship with Yeosang has lasted three years, and he’s one of the shyest guys you’ve ever dated. But that’s something you’ve always loved about him. You’d gently encourage him to step out of his shell, and when he wasn’t ready, you respected his boundaries. Over time, he grew incredibly comfortable around you.

After your shower, you got dressed and settled into bed. Yeosang sleepily wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close. The warmth of his embrace was comforting, and soon, the two of you drifted off to sleep, cuddled together.

The next morning, you woke up to find the bed empty. Letting out a soft sigh, you got up and made your way to the kitchen, where you found Yeosang quietly sipping his drink. You sat beside him and smiled at him.

"Good morning, sleep well?" you asked, your voice still soft with sleep. Yeosang nodded with a gentle smile. "Very. Wish I hadn’t woken up so early, though," he replied, then offered you, his drink. You accepted it with a polite smile, taking a small sip. Standing up, he glanced back at you. "Do you want anything for breakfast?"

"Well, I’m not really hungry, but I’ll take some of the coffee you made!" you replied cheerfully. You got up, walked over to him, and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him close for a soft, tender kiss.

"Do you think you could go for another round?" You looked up at him. Yeosang stared at you silently, his eyes soft and filled with a quiet warmth. His hands gently found their way to your waist, holding you close. "How are you not exhausted after last night?" Yeosang murmured, kissing you back. In that moment, you realized you couldn’t get enough of him—you craved even more.

"Actually, this time I want to do the work. If that is okay with you?" You started deepening your kiss with him. He lifts you up and carries you back to the bed. "Are you sure? If you get tired, I can take over." Yeosang spoke before attaching his lips on yours. You softly slid your clothes off along with Yeosang's and dropped them on the floor somewhere.

"I want you to relax this morning Yeosang, you did a lot of work last night for me. I want to return the favor." You pull back and switch sides with Yeosang, getting on top of him fully making out with him for a few minutes. You felt his hands travel to your hips softly caressing the skin making you shiver.

Damn why is he so good at this. You think to yourself, but you want to compete with him and see if you can get your shy sensitive boyfriend to moan your name for once during sex. You played with his hair twirling it in your fingers as his mouth moved down to your neck leaving feathery kisses.

"Wait. I thought I was supposed to be doing the work." You laughed softly at his actions. Yeosang pulled back apologizing to you, "I am sorry, I just love you so much." Yeosang let out a nervous laugh, his eyes locked with yours, filled with a mix of anticipation and warmth. Leaning in closer, you softly whispered for him to lie down on the bed, gently guiding him back with a tender touch. You got on his lap, and he held his hand out for you to grab and hold yourself if you needed help.

You aligned his cock to your entrance as you slowly went down on him causing you to moan already. "Yeosang..." You moaned his name closing your eyes slightly biting your lip. Yeosang let an exhale out at the feeling and interlocked your fingers together. With your other hand you rested it on his chest as you shifted to get more comfortable before you started moving.

"Fuck." You cursed grinding softly against him trying to get more friction, but you felt already tired especially after last night. Yeosang sat up and wrapped his hands around your waist helping you move causing you to whine and moan his name even more.

"You already need my help?" Yeosang panted, gazing into your eyes. Instead of answering, you kissed him, moaning into his mouth. He slid his tongue in, engaging in a playful battle for dominance, which you willingly surrendered. In an instant, he pushed you onto the bed, lifting your legs around his waist as he began to thrust into you.

"Ah, Yeosang!" you gasp, throwing your head back as you feel him fill you completely. Yeosang leans down, his warm breath brushing against your skin. You run your fingers through his hair, moaning in delight as he thrusts deeply inside you.

"Oh my god..." Yeosang whispered, his hand gently caressing your waist as he held you tightly. Finally, you heard him moan as your insides clenched around him, pulling him in deeper. You opened your eyes in surprise, feeling a thrilling spark of excitement.

"Y/N." Yeosang moaned again, attempting to stifle his sounds. A wave of pure pleasure washed over you as you relished the sound of his moans. Pulling him close, you kissed him deeply, and soon both of you were moaning into each other's mouths. He huffed pulling back, a string of saliva connecting both of your lips as he licked it away.

He kept moving and finally he whispered to you, "I am close... Let's cum together." He reconnected your lips together.

"Yeosang!" You pulled back as you now felt his finger rub circles over your clit driving you towards the edge. You soon became a complete mess underneath him. Yeosang released his hot liquid inside you and sat up panting hard. You felt him pull out and look down at you panting heavily exhausted from the session. You looked up at him and sat up breathing heavily.

"God your moaning... It was so hot." You mentioned causing Yeosang to blush shyly. "I am sorry if that was weird for you to hear me..." He helped you up and walked you to the shower with him.

"I always have wanted to hear you moan. I was hoping this time I would get to hear you, and it worked!" You smiled as he started the water and went inside with you to take a shower. You both washed each other but you felt weak on your legs after the last session.

"Y/N, you should take a nap; I can grab us some breakfast," Yeosang said, kissing the top of your head. You shook your head, signaling that you wanted to stay up a bit longer. He sighed, finishing up in the shower. A mischievous thought crossed your mind about getting him to moan using just your mouth. As he prepared to step out, you stopped him and sank to your knees. He fell silent, nervous about what was about to unfold.

You couldn’t help but smirk at his reaction before gently taking his cock in one hand and softly kissing the tip. You licked it softly before taking it fully in your mouth. Yeosang hissed at the feeling and bit his lip not expecting you to go this far. You felt his fingers tangle in your hair before you started moving your head swirling your tongue over the shaft as you continued to suck him off. Yeosang let out a soft moan throwing his head back slightly. He started moving you while nonstop moaning now.

"Y/N. Fuck." He hissed as your tongue flicked over the slit causing him to release precum. You felt your face and core get hot feeling extremely aroused again just by him moaning. Yeosang bit his lip eyes clouded with lust and pleasure as he started fucking your throat. He was practically pulling your hair and was thrusting like an animal in your mouth. He finally released one last moan before pulling out and you started stroking with your hand as he came. Yeosang huffed out before realizing what happened and immediately apologizing to you and washing you off as the mess he made.

"I am so sorry... I would have told you if I would have known..." He pulled you up and started cleaning you again. You only just looked at him and told him it was okay. "I wanted this Yeosang." You softly kissed his cheek, and he looked at you feeling completely embarrassed. You turned the water off and saw how tired he looked.

"I can go get us breakfast while YOU nap." You laugh as you both dried up and got dressed. He wrapped his arms around you as you brushed his hair. "Well can we stay in today and just relax?" Yeosang looked down at you and you nod kissing him really quick before taking him to the bed and leaving out to go get something to eat for both of you to share and relax in bed.

•

I got nothing else to say. Just soft Yeosang. I love Yeosang. Good day everyone!

[izzy120]

Chicken Alfredo

One-shot

Paring: Melissa schemmenti x fem y/n

Summary: y/n and Melissa were kinda work friends but also not? She does bully y/n a good amount! But they do like each other in a way. One day y/n brings a Walmart chicken Alfredo thing that you can warm up in the microwave. (If you know what I mean then you know that shit is nasty!). Melissa saw it, and forced y/n to learn how to cook actual Italian food. With the two besties of course!

Characters: Melissa, Barbara, Janine, Jacob

Warnings: use of y/n, pure fluff! Bullying- but it’s from Melissa so it’s ok, Janine & Jacob just being them,

Today, Y/N walked into school looking way too cheerful, enough for Melissa and Barbara to notice right away. Melissa leaned against a desk, arms crossed, giving Y/N a skeptical once-over.

“Hey, what’s got you all giddy today, kid?” The sarcasm was obvious, but Y/N didn’t care.

“I got one of my favorite foods for lunch today!” she announced proudly.

Melissa scoffed. “That’s it? Jeez, kid, had me thinkin’ you scored a date or somethin’.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “For your information, I could easily pull more than one date.”

Melissa smirked, poking Y/N’s forehead. “Oh yeah? What, you bag another grandma, ya little grandma eater?”

Y/N’s face turned bright red as she swatted at Melissa’s arm. “Oh, fuck you!”

Barbara let out a long, tired sigh. “Melissa, dear, would you please stop teasing Y/N?”

Melissa just grinned while Barbara tried (and failed) to suppress a laugh. Y/N huffed and walked away, making Barbara chuckle as she watched her go.

“Now, Melissa, that was quite rude… Keep that up, and she just might run off with your mother if you’re not careful.” She covered her mouth, chuckling, while Melissa grinned and elbowed her playfully.

“Hey, at least she’s got high standards.”

While at lunch, Y/N stood by the cupboards, waiting for her chicken alfredo to finish heating up in the microwave. As the timer ticked down, Melissa and Barbara walked into the lounge, heading straight for their usual table.

Melissa barely sat down before noticing Y/N and raising a suspicious eyebrow.

“Hey, kid. What’re you nukin’ in the microwave?”

Y/N turned to her with a smirk. “Well, since you asked so nicely~”

The microwave beeped, and Y/N opened the door, pulling out her meal with a proud grin. “Chicken alfredo—my favorite!”

Melissa took one look at it and recoiled in horror. “What the hell is that? That ain’t Italian food… looks like it crawled straight outta hell.”

Y/N pouted as she took a seat beside Melissa and Barbara. “Well, I got it from Walmart…” She rubbed the back of her neck with an awkward chuckle. “I can’t cook, so this is the next best thing.”

Melissa stared at the plastic container like it had personally offended her entire lineage. “You oughta march yourself right back to where ya came from!”

Y/N tilted her head in confusion. “Britain?”

Melissa blinked, then shook her head. “No! Hell! You need to go back to hell! ’Cause there’s no way I’m lettin’ you eat that disgrace of Italian food in front of me, kid.”

Y/N shrugged and took a big bite. “Oops~”

Melissa turned away, pretending to gag. Barbara chuckled, already knowing where this was headed.

Without warning, Melissa snatched the bowl from Y/N’s hands.

“Hey!” Y/N jumped up, trying to grab it back, but Melissa stood up, holding it just out of reach.

“This smells—and probably tastes—like ass! No way am I subjectin’ myself to that kinda torture.”

“You’re being dramatic!” Y/N huffed, still trying to reach for it.

Melissa didn’t argue. Instead, she marched over to the trash can and dumped the entire meal.

Y/N gasped, looking between Melissa and the camera crew in shock. “What the fu—”

Before she could finish, Melissa shoved a spoonful of actual Italian food into her mouth.

Y/N’s eyes widened as she chewed, letting out an involuntary moan. “Oh my God… this is amazing! What is it?”

Melissa smirked. “It’s called Penne alla Vodka, and it’s homemade—none of that store-bought garbage.”

Y/N’s eyes sparkled. “Can I have some more?!”

Melissa scoffed. “How ‘bout I do ya one better? Why don’t you come to my house, and I’ll teach ya how to actually cook, kid?”

Y/N was about to answer when Janine suddenly chimed in.

“Melissa, can we help you? I really wanna learn how to cook like you!”

Then Jacob jumped in too. “Oh! Me too! I really wanna learn so I can make something for my boyfriend! He would love it if I brought home some leftovers like that! He’d probably go on a whole tangent about the cultural significance of a homemade meal—honestly, I’d eat it up.”

Melissa shot them both a glare. “No—”

“Of course! It would be so fun if we could all hang out!” Y/N beamed at them.

Melissa groaned, looking over at Barbara for backup.

Barbara just sighed, shaking her head. She knew exactly what had happened. Melissa had set this whole thing up just to get some one-on-one time with Y/N.

And it had completely backfired.

At Melissa’s house.

Soft knocks echoed from the door, and Melissa instantly knew it was Y/N. With a sigh, she walked over and pulled it open—only to freeze in place.

Y/N stood there, grinning, dressed in a white apron with “Kiss the Chef” plastered across the chest. Her hair was tucked under a black hairnet, and she looked way too excited.

“I’m here!” Y/N announced cheerfully.

Before Melissa could even process it, Janine and Jacob popped out from nowhere.

“Oh! Uh, hi! Yep, we’re here too! Just, you know, also existing in this space!” Janine yelped.

“Affirmative!” Jacob chimed in. “Present and accounted for! Part of the group! Not to be overlooked!”

Melissa scowled, then scoffed. “Oh, great. I gotta teach a bunch of jabronis how to cook. This is gonna be a disaster.”

With a dramatic sigh, she stepped aside, letting them in. As Y/N walked past, Melissa reached out and smacked the hairnet off her head.

“Hey!” Y/N protested, glaring at her.

Melissa just rolled her eyes, stuffing the net into her pocket. “Oh, no, no, no. You are not wearing that in my house. I got standards.”

Y/N huffed and, in retaliation, accidentally stepped on Melissa’s foot. Without missing a beat, Melissa grabbed the front of Y/N’s shirt and yanked her straight into the kitchen.

Janine and Jacob exchanged a wide-eyed glance.

“Oh!” Janine whispered excitedly. “Did Melissa just completely ignore Y/N’s kicking? Like… not even a single cuss word in Italian? Not even a little one?”

Jacob smirked. “Gasp—” he actually said the word gasp. “I think she did… which is honestly impressive. But, uh, should we maybe—just hypothetically—try to get them together? You know, as a fun little social experiment?”

Their grins grew in unison.

“Yes, yes! A hundred times yes!” Janine practically vibrated with excitement. “This is exactly the kind of thing I was born to do!”

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, Melissa scowled at whatever scheme those two were undoubtedly cooking up. This was gonna be a long night.

The kitchen was bustling with activity as Y/N, Melissa, Jacob, and—of course—Janine worked together to make Chicken Alfredo.

Jacob was mincing the garlic with intense focus (a very tiny type of cut, to be exact), while Janine handled boiling the noodles like it was the most important task in the world. Melissa was in charge of the sauce, stirring with practiced ease, and Y/N was busy chopping up the chicken—if you could call it that.

Y/N had one eye squeezed shut and her tongue slightly sticking out in concentration, making her look like a cartoon character. Melissa glanced over mid-stir, catching sight of the ridiculous expression. With a scoff and a smirk, she put the spoon down and walked over, standing directly behind Y/N.

“The hell kinda cutting is that?” Melissa huffed, watching Y/N struggle with the knife. “Even my sister could do better—and she once brought a disgrace of a dish to my grandma’s funeral. Absolute embarrassment.”

Before Y/N could protest, Melissa reached out, wrapping her hands over Y/N’s to guide the knife properly. The movement was natural, but suddenly, Y/N could feel Melissa’s breath near her neck, her firm grip steadying her hands. Her face warmed slightly, but she focused on the chicken, ignoring the fact that Melissa’s arms were practically around her.

Across the kitchen, Jacob and Janine stared, their eyes comically wide—like something straight out of an anime.

But before the moment could linger, Y/N abruptly elbowed Melissa in the stomach.

Melissa reeled back with a grunt, clutching her abdomen. “God damn, kid! If you didn’t want me touchin’ you, you coulda just said so! No need to get all punchy about it!”

Y/N turned around, biting her lip, looking somewhat guilty—but also thoroughly amused.

“I’m… pfft—” She tried to hold it in but ultimately burst into laughter.

Melissa rolled her eyes but couldn’t help smirking. “Yeah… sure. You’re real sorry.”

The rest of the night was nothing short of amazing. They talked, they laughed, and they just enjoyed each other’s company. It was a fun, easygoing evening—except for one tiny, glaring problem.

Janine and Jacob were beyond frustrated with Melissa. She kept getting chance after chance to just man up and kiss Y/N—so many chances! And yet, every single time, she let them slip right through her fingers. They even tried to help, nudging her along, dropping hints so obvious a brick wall would’ve caught on. But nothing.

By the end of the night, they just couldn’t take it anymore.

They were in the middle of a game when Jacob suddenly shot to his feet, exhaling the most dramatic sigh.

“I can’t do this anymore! Melissa, I know you like Y/N! You’re practically over the moon for her! And you, Y/N—I swear, some days I genuinely wonder how you manage to keep your emotions in check! At this point, you’re both just acting like a couple, but without all the kissing! And honestly? It’s driving me insane! So, please, for the sake of my sanity—fix it. Right now. Just kiss already!”

The room fell silent.

Y/N and Melissa sat there, eyes wide, faces burning red.

“E-excuse me?…” Y/N stuttered, blinking rapidly.

Melissa crossed her arms, furrowing her brows in pure denial. “W-what the hell are you talkin’ about, Jacob?”

Janine groaned, throwing her hands in the air. “Ugh! I swear, you guys!”

And before either of them could react, she shoved Y/N straight into Melissa.

Their lips collided.

Y/N’s eyes went comically wide at first, but then Melissa’s hands instinctively found her hips, steadying her. The shock faded, and Y/N’s eyes fluttered shut as Melissa—ever the overachiever—deepened the kiss without hesitation.

Janine and Jacob exchanged the most victorious grins.

They did it.

After all that hard work—finally.

This is a little shorter than usual! So my apologies. Also school and shit has been getting to me so I haven’t been able to write as more! It’s quite sad to be honest! Hopefully I can get my brain juices working again soon!

[theloveoffootball10]

ғᴏᴏʟɪsʜ - ʟᴀɴᴅᴏ ɴᴏʀʀɪs

complete masterlist

ʟᴀɴᴅᴏ ɴᴏʀʀɪs x ᴏᴄ Something a little bit different from me tonight. A very old one shot reimagined as a Lando fic because I can’t help myself.

ᴡʜᴇɴ ɪ ɢᴇᴛ ᴛʜᴇ sᴛʀᴇɴɢᴛʜ ᴛᴏ ʟᴇᴀᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʟᴡᴀʏs ᴛᴇʟʟ ᴍᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ɴᴇᴇᴅ ᴍᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ɪ'ᴍ ᴡᴇᴀᴋ 'ᴄᴀᴜsᴇ ɪ ʙᴇʟɪᴇᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜ

Five years ago when Lando Norris asked me to be his girlfriend, I was the happiest I've ever been we may have been young but we were in love. I never thought one person could make me feel like I was on cloud nine everyday the way he did. I had the life so many dream about; the most loving boyfriend, amazing friends, the nice house, the nice car, the luxury holidays. I had it all. It sounds perfect doesn't it? Don't get me wrong it's an amazing lifestyle until the person you love more than anything in the world cheats on you. Not just once but regularly. That's when none of that stuff matters anymore it becomes a world of anxiety, doubt and worry. Where is he? Who is he with? Will he come home tonight? This is the life I'm living now as Lando Norris's fiancée. 

"Where've you been?" I ask Lando casually as he strolls into the bedroom of our Monaco apartment. Deep down I know where he's been and truthfully it makes me feel sick but I don't actually want to hear the words come from his mouth. In my head it will be more devastating to actually hear him say what I know has been going on behind my back for months now rather than acting oblivious.

"Just out with some friends, you should come next time" Lando says as he starts getting ready for bed. I don't understand how he's so blasé and how he can act like he's doing nothing wrong.

"That would be interesting wouldn't it" I mumble to myself as I turn the TV off and pull the duvet over myself, cocooning myself in.

"What was that?" Lando asks as he stands in the doorway of our en-suite.

"I said maybe one day. Night Lando" I say turning my bedside lamp off to put an end to our conversation. Hearing the bathroom door close I finally let the tears roll down my cheeks. This seems to have became a more regular thing lately. Lando comes home late with no explanation and I cry myself to sleep. Thinking about our relationship I question how things have got this bad between us. How have we allowed things to get this bad?

"You cried yourself to sleep again last night didn't you?" My best friend Sarah says the next day as I sit in her kitchen.

"What makes you say that?" I don't even know why I'm trying to deny it. It's obvious when you look at me and sadly she's been through this with me so many times she knows the signs.

"Your eyes are red and puffy. The bags under your eyes are something else and your mood tells me that you're beating yourself up. Why do you let him do this to you Taylor?" Sarah says not even needing to ask what's going on.

"I love him Sarah. I haven't actually asked him about anything yet but it's the same signs as the last four times" saying things out loud makes me realise what I'm actually letting Lando do to me.

"Taylor get some self respect! This might sound harsh but I can't watch Lando hurt you any more. He's cheated on you multiple times! You know about four girls he's admitted to but let’s be honest there's probably a hell of a lot more and every time you keep running back to him. You throw him out for a few weeks maybe two months at the most and he begs enough and promises to never do it again and you take him back because you miss having him around! No one deserves to be treated the way he's treating you" listening to Sarah I know she's right but I can't physically admit that my relationship with Lando has ran its course. It's destroying me mentally. 

"It's not all bad though and I know he does love me" I'm aware I sound pathetic but I truthfully believe that Lando does still love me. We’ve been together for so long now, he’s the only one I think about when I think about forever.

"This isn't how you treat someone you love. Look I'm not going to say anymore because you know I have a strong opinion on this and we don't agree so rather than this ending in an argument I'm going to stop talking. I've told you what I think but sadly I can't make any decisions for you. If I could he'd have been binned off a long time ago" I know everyone who knows me would be happy if I left Lando for good but I can't, I don't want to be alone. I can't picture a life without him in it. I feel like I've put so much time and effort into our relationship to throw it away.

sᴏ ɪ sᴛᴏᴘ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴍᴀʏʙᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴ ʟᴇᴀʀɴ ᴛᴏ ᴀᴘᴘʀᴇᴄɪᴀᴛᴇ ᴍᴇ ᴛʜᴇɴ ɪᴛ ᴀʟʟ ʀᴇᴍᴀɪɴs ᴛʜᴇ sᴀᴍᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɪɴ'ᴛ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ɢᴏɴɴᴀ ᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇ

"Will you come in with me? I know exactly what I'll be going in there to and I'm not prepared for that" I say as we pull into the garage at mine and Lando’s apartment and I see the strange car in one of our parking bays.

"Taylor this is so wrong. We've been away for a hen weekend and now you're worried to even go in your own home because you know your dick of a boyfriend has most likely cheated on you, again. However I can see how anxious you are so I will come with you but I'm telling you now I'm not being held responsible for my actions if he has got a girl in there" getting out of the car with Sarah I'm terrified. I know Lando has cheated on me probably too many times to count but I've never actually caught him with another girl let alone with another girl in our home.

"Lando?" I say walking into the kitchen not seeing Lando anywhere. This just confirms to me that he's still in our bed with a slut. Yes I'm going to call her a slut even though I don't know her. Mine and Lando’s relationship has been in the public eye for as long as I remember and there's photos around the house of us together. There's no way she can't know about me. Walking into our bedroom I feel sick. Lando is still sleeping with the fake red headed slut next to him and I feel like I can't breathe.

"You don't deserve this Taylor. What are you going to do?"

"I don't know anymore Sarah. I could always block it out when I didn't see anything but how will I get this image out of my head? She's in my bed" I say. I'm angry and I'm shaking but I don't know how to act.

"Not for much longer she won't be" Sarah says walking over to the bedside table where she grabs the bottle of water that is sat there. Before I know it she's pouring water over Lando and whoever that is in my bed "get up now, both of you" I don't think I've ever heard Sarah so angry in the whole time I've known her.

"What the fuck are you doing? You absolute psycho!" Lando shouts as he jumps out of bed.

"How could you?" I say when Lando looks at me actually realising I'm there and not just Sarah. I'm scarily calm and I'm even scaring myself. I don't even shout, I haven't got it in me to raise my voice.

"Taylor babe this meant nothing" always the same speech. It never meant anything when Lando tries to justify his actions.

"Don't you think you better leave?" I say looking at the girl in my bed "I don't care who the fuck you are but get the fuck out of my bed and get the fuck out of my house. Now!" Seeing the look on Sarah’s face I know she never expected that tone to come from me, hell I didn't even expect it.

I don't take my eyes of the red head as she climbs out of bed gathering her clothes, within minutes I hear her leave the house. That's when I let the tears flow free and Lando gets the brunt of my anger. Next thing I know I'm throwing things at him, I'm hitting his chest and I can't stop the tears.

"Why would you do this to me!"

"I'm sorry! It was a mistake. She didn't mean anything to me. Taylor she's nothing compared to you" Lando says trying to pull me into his arms but I resit and pull back.

"Don't touch me!" I scream at Lando not wanting to be anywhere near him.

"You disgust me Norris! You've got the most amazing girl and you treat her like this! You don't deserve her! She should've left you the first time she found out you cheated" Sarah shouts at Lando and I know she’s right. I should have left years ago.

"Keep out of this Sarah! This is between me and Taylor! Why are you even here?"

"Because your fiancée was too scared to come into her own home by herself because she knew you'd have a slut here! Look what you're doing to her! You're destroying her piece by piece!" Sarah has so much built up anger towards Lando I can see this exploding as both of them raise their voices at each other.

"Stop it! Stop it now! Both of you!" I scream nearly hysterical looking between my fiancée and best friend "I know you don't like each other but stop! Sarah will you give us a minute please?" I say knowing I need to speak to Lando alone.

"I'll be in the kitchen" Sarah says giving Lando daggers as she leaves the bedroom.

"Tay..." Lando starts but I cut him off.

"Don't bother Lando. I don't want to hear it. From my perspective you have no excuse for any of this. We were supposed to get married! Christ it's not like you don't get sex from me because you do! I could understand a little bit more if that was the case! I want you to leave" I say determined this will be the last time.

"Taylor please don't. I love you"

"This isn't how you treat someone you love Lando. Just go please. Stay with a friend, stay with your family, stay with one of the sluts you've been shagging behind my back I don't care anymore. All I know is that I want you to pack a bag and leave. There never will be a wedding" I say throwing my engagement ring on the bed before walking out of the bedroom not giving Lando the chance to respond. This is the final straw I can't go through this anymore. After five years I need to plan a life without Lando Norris by my side.