#“do you miss what you thought you were back when you thought you knew what you are” <- 'everything we know about you is wrong'

[3amfanfiction]

Picture Perfect pt 1

Lieutenant MacTavish confiscated your suggestive, racy photo when your then-boyfriend was waving it around, showing all his army buddies. If he then studied your picture and used it as wanking material for the next year, complete with a few domestic fantasies, that was nobody's business but his own; he wasn't hurting anyone. The picture was tucked away in a drawer, completely forgotten about until the day he came back from deployment as a captain with a nasty bullet graze and spotty memory. Cleaning out his desk, he found your photo again. He couldn't remember your name but he knew what you sounded like moaning his name. He didn't remember where you'd met but he knew he slipped a ring on your finger the night you both went out searching for the best garlic bread in the city. He wasn't sure if you had family but he knew what the silken clench of your cunt felt like around his fingers and cock. With all his unexpected free-time maybe he should track down his wayward wife. It had been too long since he'd seen you and he wasn't one to let things slip through his fingers. Whatever caused your separation would be dealt with, he wasn't going to lose you again.

3k words about Captain MacTavish finding his wife who he needs to re-woo. Nothing too serious, just a little scene.

His head ached as he cleaned out his desk, at least half due to his clenched jaw, muscles corded and knotted along the sharp jut of bone. Who did the brass think they were, putting him on indefinite leave just because of a bit of spotty memory. He remembered everything important! Everything that mattered was highlighted neon bright in his brain—the things that would keep his men alive, the pressure points of informants needed to complete the job. It was only the finer details that seemed to slip through his fingers like sand. What school he went to, when he'd graduated boot camp. A snarl crept across his face he gathered up everything in his desk drawer and threw it into a box. Talk about bullshit.

Slamming the drawer shut he turned to the next, scooping up handfuls of papers and knickknacks alike to be thrown haphazardly together, ready to be toted off home. He'd given up his life for the military and this was how they wanted to treat him? The first sign of something not going their way and they wanted to ship him off like trash. Like he couldn't do his job better than everyone on this goddamned base. Who had the longest streak of missions without a casualty? That's right, it was him.

Reaching into the back of the drawer he swiped around heatedly, looking for any remaining items he might have missed with his first pass. A smooth, glossy material met his fingertips and he pulled it out with an annoyed huff, turning to throw it into the box with the rest before taking in what was in his hand.

It was a picture.

A very pretty picture.

You were sat on the bed, suggestively posing for the camera, perched on your heels with a warm smile directed towards the lens. Eyes staring into his soul.

He knew this picture. He'd helped you take it, hadn't he? Or maybe you'd sent it to him? He couldn't quite remember the particulars but he remembered the photo. His pretty wife, all dolled up just for him in his favorite color. You'd sent it to help him through a deployment now that he was thinking about it. Something to remember you by while he was away.

As if he could forget you.

He slumped back into his chair holding the picture up to study it. Tilting it to keep the reflective shine off your face. Where was his wife at now? He knew he hadn't seen you for a while, but why? Why didn't you live together?

His head gave a particularly nasty throb and he tucked the thought away, refocusing. It didn't matter why you weren't together. He would find you and bring you home. He didn't believe in divorce and it was time to work through this separation. Plus, he had a plethora of unexpected free time suddenly staring him down. What better way to use it than to find an errant spouse.

Tucking the picture into his pocket, he started making plans to reach out to a few old friends. A name would be helpful but he was nothing if not resourceful.

\\\

You had just put the finishing touches on your dinner, aromatic herbs scenting the air when the doorbell rang. Wondering who would show up this late in the evening unannounced, you wiped your hands before heading to see. What greeted you was a mountain of a man with a flinty look on his face. A grown-out mohawk and bright blue eyes, weathered and creased, met your gaze before a slow smile broke out across his sternly handsome face.

"There you are, bonnie lass. No need to worry any longer, I'm home."

Without waiting for your response he ducked down to press a kiss to your cheek, his scruff scratching your skin before he pushed his way inside, letting a hand drag along your hip in passing. You shivered and shifted away, your mouth dropping open in shock.

"Wait—you can't come in," you spluttered, trying to place if you'd ever seen this man before. You followed him hesitantly to the kitchen where you saw he had found your silverware drawer and was taking a bite of your food hunched over the stovetop.

Watching him shovel the food into his mouth you observed the stranger, keeping a healthy distance between the two of you. You took in his disheveled hairstyle all the way down to his well-worn boots which he hadn't bothered to remove at the door. Asshole. He was already rude for storming in like he owned the place but to not have the common courtesy to pull his filthy shoes off before he tracked dirt all over your clean floors was beyond the pale.

"Better than I remember, hen."

Your eyes grew wide as you stared in shock at his audacity. "You can't just push your way into a strangers home and eat their food. Didn't your mother teach you any manners?" You mentally smacked yourself, pulling yourself back to heel quickly. Your mouth was going to get you into trouble one of these days.

"Ach, it's been a while since I'm talked with my mam. I hope you've been keeping in contact with her." Great blue eyes turned to pin you to your place, "It would break her heart if she stopped hearing from you."

You weren't going to even touch the double standards of that statement. Maybe if you were feeling a bit more sure of yourself but you felt firmly on the back foot right now.

"Why are you here?" you tried again, getting your thoughts back on track. "What is it you want?" Direct. To the point. You'd knows the man for less than a minute but you got the feeling he would steamroll right over the slightest hint of hesitancy from you. A wrecking ball in human form.

He paused, his hand halfway to his mouth loaded with another bite and gave you an obscure look, eyes glinting with something you couldn't make out.

"I'm here to bring my wife home, of course."

Of course. So simple. And it explained exactly nothing.

"Okay," you hedged, frowning at him. "I don't have her tucked away in a closet so what's that have to do with me?"

The stranger gave a mysterious smile before going back to your food. It was already halfway gone with the way he was inhaling it. A spark of annoyance traveled up your spine to sit with your shock and unease. You'd spent a good chunk of time making that and now you wouldn't even be able to enjoy it.

You'd really been looking forward to it too.

"Well?" you tried again. "Why are you in my house if you're looking for your wife? I certainly haven't seen her," and you wouldn't tell him even if you had. There was a indisputable manic glow coming from behind his eyes that made you wary. Some hind brain part of you perking up with a flashing 'danger' sign when you looked at this man who had commandeered your kitchen.

Scooping up the final bite, he dropped his spoon into the sink with a swallow and came over to you, reaching up to cup your face, thumbs rasping gently along your cheekbones. The way his fingers curved over the back of your skull kept his hands in place when you tried to pull away. "Just look at you, prettier than I remembered."

He did seem awfully entranced with you now that the food was gone. Eyes roving your face and trailing down to your stockinged feet before locking with yours once more. A small hint of a smile peeked through his sternness, a hint at brighter depths hidden behind the stone wall of his stoic expression.

Whether that brightness equaled kindness was still up for debate.

"I still don't know who you are or why you're in my house," you stammered, him finally relaxing enough to allow you to pull back out of his grasp. You took a shaky step backwards to put some distance back between the two of you.

"Gonna play it that way, are we?" he rumbled, his deep voice holding a bit of a growl. "All right. If I wooed you once I can woo you again, aye? I'm not above a bit of groveling to get you back where you belong." You were annoyed at the flutter you felt when he smiled charmingly down at you. Clearly a well-practiced expression on him. "Although you acting like you don't remember your husband's name is pretty hurtful. Are you a spiteful lass, then?" His smile changed to a there-and-gone smirk hiking up one side of his mouth, "I always did like them with a bit of bite."

You swallowed nervously.

"I think you need to leave," you tried, gesturing towards the front door. "I'm not your wife and there's no one else here so I'd appreciate it if you left." You tried to steel yourself, puffing up your chest to make yourself seem bigger and more self-assured. Hoping to dissuade him.

"We'll take it slow, I know better than to rush these things," he stated, dropping down to press a there-and-gone kiss to your forehead. "I'll be by tomorrow to fix that dripping faucet and then we can go for lunch."

Pulling your thoughts back into line you gaped at him. "Do not show back up at my house tomorrow," you told him, ire barely concealing the pleading lining every word but he wasn't listening. With a mockingly cheerful whistle he headed back towards the door, breezing out just as easily as he had breezed in.

You were left with a rumbling stomach and a quiet house, feeling like you'd just been sucker-punched. What just happened?

\\\

You weren't going to answer the door no matter how hard he knocked. You weren't home. Nobody was home so he should just leave.

Fretting on the couch, you glared at your entryway in outrage and uncertainty in equal measure. How long was he going to beat on your door? It already felt like it'd been going on for ages. You could barely hear yourself think with the way his hammering blows rattled the wood. You knew it wasn't the most secure and you were half worried he was going to take it off its hinges if this kept up.

You still weren't sure what happened last night.

After he left you scrounged up some dinner. Nothing like what you'd originally made but needs must. By the time you were finished you were beyond exhausted, the day's events draining you of every spec of energy. Deciding that you would deal with everything tomorrow you went to bed, certain that things would look different in the morning light.

What you hadn't counted on was tossing and turning all night, mind running a thousand miles an hour as you thought about your self-proclaimed 'husband' in all his glory. Why had he picked you to barge in on?

The only way you saw it was he was trying to con you out of or into something.

This whole 'wife' shtick could be a ploy he used with other unsuspecting people until he got whatever he wanted from them. This would hold a lot of weight if you had anything of value. Beyond a few pricey electronics there wasn't a whole lot you had.

And if he was trying to con you into something, well good luck to him. You were nothing if not stubborn and knowing someone was trying to pull a fast one on you ahead of time? You'd be able to dig your feet in until the problem went away.

But now it was noon and the problem was back at your house with no true plan in sight.

You didn't have a whole lot of options past hoping he went away. You'd rather not get the cops involved though you would if he seemed at all violent. You didn't have anyone who could come scare him away or talk to him for you. You were stuck hoping that he would get tired and leave. Hoping that he decided you were too much effort for whatever prank or ill plan he had hatched with you as the victim.

While your thoughts slowly spiraled you never noticed the pounding quieting before there was a rustle of bags and a scraping sound coming from the handle. What you did notice was your door suddenly swinging open, the stranger from last night standing back up to full height from where he'd been crouched, pocketing something in a swift movement.

"Salty lass, not letting your husband in when he's knocking at the door," he groused before brushing it aside, moving back towards the kitchen to deposit the bags he was holding on the table. "I brought lunch with so we could eat here and get to know each other again rather than going out. I don't much care for the stares," he gestured to his temple and the mass of scar tissue that furrowed from his brow back towards his skull. "There's a fantastic little deli not too far from my house. I couldn't remember what you liked so I got a few different options."

You could only stand and watch in dismay as he worked to pull food from the bags he brought, a well-worn tool bag set off to the side showed he planned to make true to his word from yesterday.

With the daylight and an absence of shock you were able to take him in, from his broad shoulders pulling at the cotton covering them—seams straining against his bulk as he moved around your kitchen pulling out plates and cups—down to his thick thighs, rounded and looking quite capable of running anyone down. You watched him do a double-take at the kitschy collection of mugs you owned before continuing on. In no time flat the table was set and he looked at you expectantly.

"Did you just pick the lock on my front door?" you finally gathered yourself enough to ask, still staring at him, not making a move towards the table. You kind of thought that only happened in tv shows and books, not in real life.

The stranger brushed it off with a wave of his hand, "Don't worry about all that, although we need to see about getting you some better security. You'll move into mine, of course. It's much more secure."

You did a double take at his presumption.

"You're joking. If anything I need better security from you."

This was ridiculous. What was the bit? What was he hoping to swindle from you with all of this? You didn't have spare cash—everything went straight to bills. Your apartment was decorated with items from the thrift shop, nothing he could hock. You had half a mind to let this play out—see it through to its end just to watch his mounting frustration.

"That's hurtful, hen. I know I've changed a bit over the years—got a few more scars than you probably remember—but I'm still me, aye? Still just Johnny, even though I'm a captain now." His chest puffed up on the word captain, clearly something he took pride in. You couldn't help the sardonic congratulations you shot his way, looking to stick a pin in his inflating ego.

He didn't seem to hear the tone you used and for the first time you saw a full, true smile break out over his face, nothing like the earlier smirks and half-hearted grins. It was shocking how much it changed his whole demeanor. Suddenly this stern, stoic man turned into a kid being complimented on their artwork.

For a split second you felt ashamed at yourself, that you could be cruel to someone like that, even if it was slight and mostly in your own head. Only for a moment though. You quickly remembered that he was in your house after picking the lock no less. It was annoying how easily he seemed to derail your thoughts and feelings.

He stepped closer to you as if he were about to sweep you into a hug, a loved one to share in a celebration with. You darted around the table instead, keeping it firmly between the two of you, wanting all the distance you could get from this handsome stranger.

You cleared your throat, "I'm sure your wife misses you," maybe you could redirect him? "You should go find her."

"Does she?" he asked with a quizzical smile, as if you were in on a joke together and he was playing along.

"Without a doubt."

"Well, I'll have to do everything I can to make sure she takes me back." With a jarring slap to his thigh he changed the subject. "Come sit down, it's time to eat."

You watched him warily for a moment, ensuring he wasn't going to lunge for another hug before hesitantly taking a seat. Looking at the food spread out in front of you, your mouth started watering like a traitor. You would be ecstatic at the offering if it wasn't your insistent pseudo-husband who brought it.

Pulling a dish towards you with a fleeting thought about poison, you let your mind wander to the sounds of chewing. What were you going to do? He clearly wasn't going to leave just because you told him to. He acted like you'd known each other for years

Maybe it was best to play along. You could act like a separated spouse and give him a to-do list a mile long to scare him away. You couldn't see another way out of this past being so odious and leaning into stereotypes hard enough that he got bored and stopped playing this unusual routine. And in the back of your mind you were worried about what would happen if you upset him by insisting too strongly that you weren't his spouse.

You looked at him, observing as he demolished his lunch. Hopefully it would wear the shine off of this spouse routine quickly. If he was picking the locks to get inside it wasn't like you could keep him out. Instead you'd wear him down, make him see that this wasn't really what he wanted and then he'd go on his way. Breeze out of your life the same way he'd breezed in.

With a plan firmly in place you took the time to enjoy your lunch. Might as well milk it for everything he'd give you while you were doing this and the food truly was delicious. He'd managed to get a little bit of everything so it was practically buffet style at your table. In no time flat you were stuffed.

Finishing your last bite you turned to look at him. Time to get started.

"You said something about fixing the sink?"

[calypso-rt]

road trip!

with the insufferable Rafe Cameron

-> Rafe x F!Reader

You should’ve seen this coming.

I mean, first, your car broke down and had to be taken to the shop.

So, when your best friend called in a frantic apology about car trouble, food poisoning, and possibly a minor curse, you knew you were doomed. Flights were sold out, rental cars were booked, and every other friend headed to the wedding was somehow already out of town.

Which left you with one horrifying, soul crushing option.

Rafe Cameron.

You stare at his name on your phone screen like it personally offends you. Your thumb hovers over the call button as if pressing it might burn your skin.

There has to be another way. A bus? A miracle Uber? A very fast bicycle?

But deep down, you know the truth. If you don’t find a way to get there, you’ll be missing out on one of the biggest moments of your friend's life. And there’s no way in hell you’re going to let that happen.

You take a deep breath, swallow what’s left of your pride, and hit call.

It rings. Once. Twice.

Then...

“Wow.” Rafe’s voice is impossibly smug, like he already knows why you’re calling. “Didn’t expect to see your name pop up. What, did hell freeze over? Pigs start flying?”

You clench your jaw, already regretting this. “Don’t start.”

“I haven’t even said anything,” he says, which is a lie because his tone is practically dripping with amusement. “So? To what do I owe the pleasure?”

You inhale sharply through your nose. Just say it. Rip off the Band-Aid.

“I need a ride.”

There’s a pause. Then, the unmistakable sound of him laughing.

It’s not just a small chuckle. It’s a full-bodied, downright delighted laugh. You swear you can hear him grinning.

“Oh, this is amazing.”

“Rafe—”

“No, no, let me enjoy this. You. You, of all people, need me?”

You press your fingers to your temples. “Do you want gas money or not?”

“Gas money? Sweetheart, I don’t need your gas money. What I need is for you to say it one more time. Just so I can fully appreciate the moment.”

You grit your teeth. “I. Need. A. Ride.”

Another pause. Then—

“Yeah, alright.” He says it so easily, like he wasn’t planning on saying no in the first place. Like he was always going to say yes. “I’ll pick you up in twenty.”

You blink. “Wait, really?”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t get all choked up about it. Just be ready.”

He hangs up before you can respond.

You stare at your phone, debating whether it’s too late to back out entirely. Maybe getting a bike wasn’t such a terrible idea.

But then, twenty minutes later, Rafe Cameron rolls up in his car, window down, smirk in place, and the smuggest glint in his eye as he calls out:

“Ready for the best road trip of your life?”

This is going to be a long ride.

...

The first hour is tense.

You sit stiffly in the passenger seat, arms crossed, eyes fixed on the endless stretch of road ahead. Rafe, for his part, lounges behind the wheel like he has all the time in the world, one hand draped lazily over the steering wheel, the other adjusting the radio.

“Jesus,” you mutter as he flips through stations again. “Can you just pick one?”

He clicks past another song. Then another.

“I could,” he says, like it’s a thoughtful decision. “But then how would I find the perfect song to fit our current mood?”

You scoff. “And what mood is that?”

He smirks. “Deep, unresolved sexual tension.”

You whip your head toward him so fast it’s a miracle you don’t get whiplash. “You’re insufferable.”

He laughs. “I mean, you did beg me for a ride, so...”

“Beg is a strong word.”

“Practically groveling.”

“Oh my God, Rafe.”

You sink lower into your seat, face burning in suppressed rage as he chuckles under his breath, clearly enjoying every second of this.

For a moment, there’s silence... until Rafe reaches for the GPS and completely ignores the route you mapped out earlier.

“Wait, what are you doing?” you demand.

“Taking the faster way.”

You frown. “That’s not the faster way.”

“Yes, it is.”

“No, it isn’t! I literally checked last night. My route is better.”

He glances at you like you’ve personally offended him. “I think I know how to read a damn GPS.”

“And I think you have the directional skills of a blindfolded himbo.”

Rafe scoffs, gripping the wheel. “That’s rich coming from someone who almost got lost inside a Target last week.”

Your jaw drops. “I did not—”

“You called me from the home goods aisle panicking.”

“It was a big Target!”

He grins, looking far too pleased with himself. “Sure, sweetheart.”

You glare daggers at him, but before you can fire back, the GPS’s robotic voice chimes in:

“Recalculating route…”

You turn to him slowly, a smirk curling at your lips.

“Oh?” you say, mocking surprise. “What’s this? The GPS thinks I was right?”

Rafe clenches his jaw, white knuckling the wheel.

“I hate you.”

You beam. “No, you don’t.”

He lets out a long suffering sigh. Then, before you can bask in your victory, he suddenly cranks up the radio obnoxiously loud, blasting some overplayed pop song.

You groan, sinking into your seat.

...

The gas station is a godsend.

After what feels like hours of bickering, you practically fling yourself out of the car the second Rafe pulls into the lot. The fresh air is a relief, or at least, it would be, if Rafe weren’t right behind you, stretching obnoxiously like he’s never known a single hardship in his life.

“God, I love road trips,” he says, grinning as he watches you roll your shoulders like you’re shaking off his entire existence.

You ignore him and push through the glass doors, the too-cold AC blasting you in the face. The fluorescent lights hum faintly overhead, and the aisles are stocked with the usual: chips, questionable hot dogs, and enough sugar to give an elephant heart palpitations.

You head straight for the snack aisle, Rafe following too closely behind.

“I’m thinking—" you start, reaching for a bag of your favorite chips.

Rafe makes a disgusted noise.

“Oh, absolutely not.” He plucks the bag from your hands like it personally offends him. “We’re getting road trip snacks, not whatever this garbage is.”

You snatch it back. “Excuse me?”

He gestures vaguely at the bag. “That’s the worst possible choice.”

Your mouth drops open. “Are you insane? This is objectively the best snack in the entire store.”

“Objectively wrong.”

You glare. “Okay, genius, what’s your expert pick?”

He doesn’t hesitate. “Beef jerky.”

You actually recoil. “Oh my God.”

“What?”

“You’re one of those people?”

Rafe smirks. “One of what people?”

“The kind of people who sit in the car, chewing on some nasty, dried-up piece of cow like it’s fine dining?”

He scoffs. “It’s protein.”

“It’s disgusting.”

He places a bag of jerky in the basket anyway. You dramatically shove your chips in beside it, like it’s a battle of good versus evil.

“What else?” he asks, scanning the shelves.

You grab a candy bar. “This.”

Rafe raises an eyebrow. “That’s just straight sugar.”

“Exactly.”

He sighs, tossing in a pack of peanut butter crackers. “Balance.”

You wrinkle your nose. “What are you, my dad?”

Rafe ignores you, moving toward the drink coolers. You trail behind him, still fuming about the beef jerky situation.

He pulls open the glass door and grabs a bottle of water.

You squint. “Water? That’s your road trip drink?”

“Yeah?” He frowns at you. “What’s wrong with water?”

You shake your head in disappointment. “You’re so boring.”

Rafe glares. “Oh, I’m boring? What are you getting, then?”

You grab the brightest, most radioactive looking energy drink you can find and hold it up triumphantly.

Rafe looks deeply unimpressed. “That is going to take years off your life.”

“And?”

He just shakes his head, tossing his water into the basket. “If your heart gives out mid-drive, I’m not pulling over.”

You grin. “I knew you cared.”

Rafe rolls his eyes, marching toward the counter to pay. You follow, watching as the bored looking cashier scans your deeply incompatible snack selections.

When Rafe pulls out his wallet, you immediately reach for yours. “I can pay for mine.”

He tuts, shoving his card into the reader before you can argue. “Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he says, smirking. “You can owe me.”

You narrow your eyes. “Owe you what?”

His smirk deepens. “Haven’t decided yet.”

You cross your arms, but he just grabs the bag of snacks and saunters out of the store, looking far too pleased with himself.

You sigh, trailing after him.

This road trip is going to kill you.

...

The rain starts suddenly.

One second, the road is dry and clear, then, out of nowhere, the sky splits open, unleashing a torrential downpour so intense that Rafe has to crank the wipers up to their highest setting. The world outside turns into a blurry mess of gray and streaking headlights, and even he slows down, muttering a curse under his breath.

“Great,” you mumble, pulling your hoodie tighter around you. “Just perfect.”

Rafe barely spares you a glance, both hands gripping the wheel. “Relax. It’s just rain.”

It is not just rain. It’s an apocalypse. The wind howls, trees sway dangerously, and the GPS chimes in, completely unhelpful:

“Rerouting… rerouting…”

Rafe exhales sharply. “Fantastic.”

You frown, glancing at the map. “Uh… I think we missed our turn.”

“We did not—”

Lightning flashes. The GPS glitches. And then, as if the universe itself wants to prove a point...

THUNK.

The car jerks. Rafe curses, fighting the wheel as he pulls over to the shoulder. The rain slams against the windshield, making it nearly impossible to see, but you already know what’s wrong.

Flat tire.

You both sit there for a second, staring at the dashboard like maybe, somehow, this is just a bad dream.

Then...

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Rafe mutters.

You sigh, already unbuckling your seatbelt. “I’ll fix it.”

Rafe’s head whips toward you. “Excuse me?”

You shrug. “I know how to change a tire.”

He scoffs. “Yeah, okay.”

“I do!”

He gives you a deeply skeptical look. “Alright, fine. Let’s see it, then.”

You roll your eyes and push the door open, stepping into the absolute nightmare that is the current weather situation. Rain instantly soaks through your hoodie, the wind nearly knocking you off balance as you march around to the trunk.

Rafe follows, watching as you pull out the spare and drop to your knees to inspect the damage.

You try to focus, really, you do, but the rain is relentless, blinding and cold and miserable. Your fingers slip against the wet metal as you wrestle with the jack, struggling to get it in place.

And then, before you can stop him, Rafe crouches down beside you, scowling as he physically moves your hands out of the way.

“What the hell—”

“You should’ve let me handle it.” His voice is low, grumbly, but not in his usual mocking way. It’s different.

Protective.

You blink up at him, shivering slightly as he moves closer, blocking some of the rain with his body.

“I had it,” you argue, but it comes out softer than intended.

He doesn’t look at you. Just focuses on loosening the lug nuts, his jaw clenched like he’s irritated... but not at you. At the fact that you were out here, in the freezing rain, doing this yourself.

The rest of the job doesn’t take long, and when he finally lowers the jack, he stands, reaching down to haul you up without warning.

You stumble slightly. He catches you easily.

For a second, you just… stand there.

Close.

The rain drips from his hair, his hoodie completely soaked, but all you can focus on is the way his hands linger: one on your wrist, the other still at your waist, like he’s making sure you’re steady before he lets go.

It’s… unsettling.

Not in a bad way.

Just in a way that makes your stomach feel weird and your heart do something stupid.

But then he exhales sharply, like he’s snapping himself out of something, and steps back.

“Next time, just let me handle it,” he mutters. Then, before you can argue, he’s already moving, tossing the tools back into the trunk.

You watch him for a moment before shaking yourself off and climbing back into the car.

The ride after that is… different.

Quieter.

Not in a tense, waiting-for-the-next-argument kind of way, but in a way that feels oddly comfortable.

Rafe leans back in his seat, one hand on the wheel, the other resting casually behind your headrest.

And for the first time, it doesn’t feel annoying.

It just feels… warm.

Familiar.

At some point, he reaches over to mess with the radio again. This time, when he flips through the stations, you don’t complain. You just glance at him, shaking your head, lips twitching slightly.

He catches you looking. Smirks.

And you don’t roll your eyes.

Not this time.

...

After the flat tire, the rainstorm, and the unfortunate realization that there were no motels nearby, you and Rafe had been forced to crash in the car overnight. Literally. Him in the driver’s seat, you curled up in the passenger seat, both of you grumbling about how much this sucked before eventually passing out.

Now, you wake up to the smell of coffee.

For a second, you’re disoriented, blinking against the golden light pouring through the windshield. Your neck is stiff, your hoodie is bunched in all the wrong places, and the leather seat sticks to your skin in the worst way.

And then...

A voice.

“Rise and shine, sleeping beauty.”

You groan, rubbing your eyes. Rafe leans against the open driver’s side door, arms crossed, a smug but noticeably softer smirk on his face.

“We’re at a diner,” he says, nodding toward the neon sign outside. “Figured you’d want real food instead of gas station snacks.”

You blink at him. Then at the diner. Then back at him.

And that’s when you see it.

In his other hand: a cup of coffee.

Your coffee.

You sit up straighter. “Wait, is that...?”

He shrugs. “You take it with two sugars, right?”

You stare at him, momentarily speechless.

Rafe Cameron, your mortal enemy just yesterday, remembers how you take your coffee. And brought you one before you even woke up.

“Uh.” You take the cup hesitantly, fingers brushing his for a split second. “Thanks?”

“Don’t make it weird,” he mutters, turning toward the diner. “Come on. I need real food before I lose my mind.”

You follow him inside, still thrown off by… whatever this is.

The place is quintessential roadside diner. Vinyl booths, checkered floors, an old jukebox in the corner playing a song that sounds straight out of a ‘90s romcom. A waitress with a pen tucked behind her ear waves you to a booth near the window.

Rafe slides in across from you, stretching his arms over the back of the seat. “So,” he says, smirking again, but there’s something different about it this time. “What’s the move? Classic pancakes? Or are you one of those avocado toast people?”

You scoff. “Avocado toast? What do I look like, a health influencer?”

He grins. “Hey, you give off the vibe.”

You kick him under the table. He chuckles.

The waitress reappears, flipping open her notepad. “What can I get y’all?”

You glance at the menu quickly before ordering the pancake combo. Rafe orders an omelet, then, as the waitress starts to walk away, he calls out:

“Oh, and... can we get extra syrup?”

You freeze.

You always ask for extra syrup. You were literally about to say it.

You narrow your eyes at him. “How do you...”

He just shrugs. “You like extra syrup. You always complain when there isn’t enough.”

Again, you’re momentarily speechless.

Rafe doesn’t just remember things about you. He notices them.

And now, in the warm morning light, with his hoodie slightly rumpled and his hair messier than usual, he looks…

Less like the cocky nightmare who laughed when you asked for a ride.

More like the guy who fixed a tire in the rain without hesitation.

Who made sure you had coffee before you even woke up.

Who just ordered extra syrup for you.

“Okay, who are you,” you blurt out before you can stop yourself, “and what have you done with Rafe Cameron?”

Rafe tilts his head, considering. Then, lazily, he smirks. “Maybe you just bring out the best in me.”

You roll your eyes, but this time, it’s harder to ignore the way your stomach flips.

And when the food arrives, when he casually slides the syrup your way before you can even reach for it, you’re pretty sure you’re screwed.

...

By the time you finally pull up to the wedding venue, a sprawling lodge tucked into the mountains, the sun is beginning to set, painting the sky in soft pinks and oranges. It looks ridiculously picturesque, like something out of a movie.

You, on the other hand, look less picturesque.

“I swear to God,” you grumble, twisting around in the passenger seat to grab your overnight bag, “if my hair is permanently flattened from sleeping in the car, I’m blaming you.”

Rafe snorts, shifting the car into park. “Please. You’ve looked worse.”

You turn to glare at him, only to find him already looking at you. Except this time, there’s no evil Rafe smirk. Just… something else. Something softer.

It throws you off so badly that you almost forget to respond.

Almost.

“Thanks,” you deadpan. “That’s exactly what every girl wants to hear before walking into a wedding.”

Rafe chuckles, shaking his head before pushing his door open. You follow suit, stepping out into the cool mountain air.

Up ahead, the venue is already buzzing with activity: people unloading suitcases, music drifting from somewhere inside, laughter echoing across the lot. Your best friend is probably freaking out over last minute details.

And you?

You’re standing beside Rafe Cameron, staring up at the lodge like you haven’t just spent the past twenty four hours begrudgingly trapped in a car with him.

Like you haven’t spent the past two hours noticing little things you weren’t supposed to.

Rafe stretches, rolling his shoulders before glancing at you. “You good?”

You nod, but before you can take a step, he reaches over and tugs your hoodie into place.

It’s nothing. Just a small adjustment, fingers barely grazing your shoulder. But the second it happens, your breath catches.

It’s stupid, really. After everything, the bickering, the bad directions, the gas station argument, this is what gets you?

A two second fix?

But when you glance up at him, there’s something unreadable in his expression. Something that lingers for half a second too long before he clears his throat and steps back.

You swallow. “Uh. Thanks.”

“Yeah.” His voice is quieter than usual.

For the first time since this whole trip started, you have no idea what to say next.

So instead, you hoist your bag higher onto your shoulder and nod toward the lodge. “We should… probably go find everyone.”

Rafe nods once. “Yeah.”

Neither of you move right away.

And when you finally do, when you walk side by side toward the entrance, the glow of the venue lights spilling onto the gravel path, you can’t shake the feeling that something just shifted.

Like maybe, just maybe, this trip isn’t over yet.

[pbaz7]

ONE SHOT: HEAT CHECK

paige x azzi

warning: sexual content (whores 😒)

word count: 10.2k

A/N: This idea was not mine at all so all praise to the anon who sent me the prompt. I hope I was able to make your vision come to life lol. Let me know what you think! Very minimal proof reading this time so spare me

—————————————————————————

Paige had convinced herself she was fine, she was great actually. Really, she was.

Sure, her WNBA debut was one of the biggest moments of her life. Sure, she had spent the last 24 hours checking her phone, hoping for some last-minute miracle text from Azzi. But Azzi was in California for an endorsement meeting—one Paige knew was too important to miss.

It’s fine, she told herself again and again all day. She was now tugging at the hem of her warm-up shirt as she stood in the tunnel before tip-off. Azzi had sent her a long, sweet text a few hours ago, promising to watch the game no matter what. Paige could practically hear Azzi’s voice in the words, telling her she’d be amazing, that she’d be right there with her in spirit.

Still, it wasn’t the same.

She had wanted Azzi there. Needed her there, to fall into her arms after the game.

“Damn, P, you good?” Arike nudged her as they jogged back onto the court.

Paige blinked. “Yeah, why?”

“You just look... a little tense.”

Paige forced a grin. “It’s just the nerves.”

And it was. But it was also the fact that the one person she wanted to see in the stands—the only person whose opinion matters—wasn’t going to be there.

She glanced toward the front rows, taking in the packed arena. She couldn’t help but chuckle when she noticed some people.

Ice, KK, Sarah, Morgan and empty seats next to them surely for some other teammates.

They were one row back from the courtside seats, already settled in, talking amongst themselves. KK had her feet kicked out in front of her, looking completely at home, while Ice was scrolling through her phone. Sarah and Morgan were in conversation, but Paige could tell from the way Sarah was laughing that Morgan had just said something ridiculous.

A grin broke across Paige’s face.

But before she could even process it fully, the lights dimmed, signaling the start of player introductions.

She exhaled, shaking out her hands.

Okay. This was good.

Her people were here.

Well… almost all of them.

She swallowed the lump in her throat, forcing herself to focus.

The first half of the first quarter had been a blur. Paige had settled into the game quickly, feeding off the energy of the packed arena, her nerves long gone as she focused on what she did best. She hadn’t even thought too much about Azzi—not because she didn’t want to, but because she couldn’t afford to.

Paige was sitting on the bench during a timeout when the crowd erupted out of nowhere, loud and excited, their cheers rising above the usual buzz of a timeout. Paige, confused, wiped her face with a towel and glanced at the jumbo screen, searching for whatever had them going crazy.

Paige swore her mouth went dry.

Azzi was sitting courtside, waving to the camera like she knew exactly what she was doing. Her hair was in goddess braids—her go-to summer look—but it wasn’t just the hair that caught Paige off guard. It was the entire outfit.

Cowboy hat. Cowboy boots. A very short jean skirt. And Paige’s #5 Dallas Wings jersey.

Azzi was chewing her gum lazily, her glossed lips moving slightly in the process. She turned her head toward the court, her gaze locking on Paige like she had been waiting for this exact moment. A slow, smirk tugged at her lips before she sent Paige a quick wink.

Paige felt her pulse stutter.

“Oh damn,” Lou murmured beside her, letting out a low whistle. “She looks hot.”

Paige exhaled sharply, shaking her head as she wiped her towel across her face again, as if that would somehow cool her down.

Azzi just kept smirking.

The timeout buzzer sounded, but Paige was still sitting there, gripping her towel, her mind catching up to the fact that Azzi had somehow made it. Had gone out of her way to be here. Had done it all without telling her.

She didn’t know whether to laugh or drag Azzi out of her seat as soon as the game was done.

One thing was for sure, though—she’d be thinking about that damn outfit for the rest of the game.

After the timeout, Paige tried to refocus, but it was impossible to ignore Azzi, sitting courtside, looking like that.

Paige was doing her best to stay locked in, but every time the ball left her hands, she felt a certain pair of brown eyes on her. When she drained a deep three from the wing, she knew exactly where to look.

Her gaze flickered to Azzi, who was already watching her, the corners of her lips tugging up in the smallest smile. She didn’t cheer, didn’t do anything flashy like their friends in the row behind her—just raised her eyebrows slightly, as if to say, that’s cute.

Paige fought back a smirk as she jogged back on defense.

She didn’t have time to get caught up in whatever game Azzi was playing. Paige and Arike were playing off of each other perfectly. Their ball movement was seamless, as if they had played together for years and the defense was scrambling to keep up. Every time the defense adjusted, they had another move ready, feeding off each other in a way that made it clear just how dangerous this duo was going to be in the future.

But then, late in the quarter, Paige had to inbound the ball—right in front of Azzi’s seat.

She swallowed, walking over as the cameras in the arena turned in their direction. The moment stretched between them, tension buzzing in the air as Paige took her place near the sideline.

Azzi, fully aware of the attention on them, just leaned back in her seat, crossing her legs as she sipped her drink through a straw. It was a simple action—calm, almost nonchalant—but Paige could smell her perfume, that warm vanilla scent mixed with something slightly sweet, and it had her clenching her jaw just a little tighter.

Azzi must have noticed because she glanced up at Paige through her lashes, her lips curving just slightly before she took another sip of her drink, covering her smirk behind the straw so the camera couldn’t see.

Paige exhaled through her nose, biting the inside of her cheek at the attention.

Azzi didn’t say a word.

She didn’t need to.

She already knew Paige was thinking about her.

The ref finally handed Paige the ball, and she shifted back into game mode, shaking her head slightly to clear her thoughts as she got ready to make the inbound pass.

…

As soon as the final buzzer sounded and the win was officially in the books, Paige barely registered anything else. The moment she finished the postgame handshakes, she was already untucking her jersey, her feet moving on autopilot toward Azzi and her old teammates waiting courtside.

Azzi didn’t stand right away. She let Paige greet Ice, KK, Morgan, and Sarah first, all of them pulling her into hugs, hyping her up.

“You were hoopin’ tonight girly,” KK grinned, giving her a playful shove.

Paige smirked, bumping her back. “You know I had to put on a show for y’all.”

Ice threw an arm around her shoulder. “Let’s be real—you didn’t start playing for real until you saw Azzi.”

Paige rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t even argue.

Finally, she turned to Azzi.

Azzi stood, her smile soft and her eyes warm as Paige immediately pulled her into a tight hug resting her head on Azzi shoulder. Paige held on for a second longer than necessary, inhaling the familiar scent of her perfume, her heart settling in a way it hadn’t all night.

When she finally pulled back, she let her eyes sweep over Azzi, her gaze dragging over the cowboy hat, the denim skirt, and—most importantly—her jersey over Azzi’s frame.

“You look good,” Paige mumbled, voice just low enough for only Azzi to hear.

Azzi’s lips curled into a smirk, her eyes flickering with something.

“I know.”

Paige let her eyes drag over Azzi, taking in every little detail. She licked her lips without thinking, fingers twitching slightly at her sides.

Azzi, catching the look immediately, gave her a warning glance. “Stop,” she mumbled, tilting her head slightly. “We’re in public, and there’s cameras everywhere.”

Paige barely blinked. “I don’t care,” she muttered, her voice a little low as she reached down and tugged discreetly at the hem of Azzi’s skirt. “When’d you get this?”

Azzi laughed, shaking her head. “Yesterday.”

Before Paige could respond, Lou appeared, sliding into the conversation with a huge grin.

“Azzi, you made it!” Lou beamed, pulling Azzi into a hug.

Paige took the opportunity to really look at her again, her gaze tracing over Azzi’s outfit, the way the jersey fit her just right, the way her legs looked in that skirt, the way she still had that damn smirk on her face.

Azzi felt her staring.

And she definitely wasn’t imagining the way Paige’s fingers brushed the back of her thigh before she pulled her hand away.

For a second Paige spent some time with her family, hugging her mom tightly, dapping up her dad, and joking around with her brothers and sister. The excitement from her first W game in Dallas was still buzzing around them, but before she could fully settle in, one of the staff members called her over telling her they wanted her for a postgame interview.

Before heading back, she found Azzi again, stepping up close as she spoke. “I’ll have Lou bring you the keys in a second.”

Azzi just nodded, her eyes still holding that same glint from earlier.

But before Paige could walk away, a photographer approached them, camera in hand, gesturing toward them for a picture.

Paige didn’t hesitate. She wrapped an arm around Azzi’s waist, pulling her in close, and Azzi melted into her, tilting her head against Paige’s shoulder. Her hand rested lightly on Paige’s stomach, fingers grazing the fabric of her jersey, and Paige swore she could feel the warmth of her touch through it.

The camera flashed.

Azzi smirked.

Then, they adjusted, shifting slightly as the photographer snapped more pictures.

In one, Paige held Azzi a little tighter, her fingers pressing into the soft denim of Azzi’s skirt. In another, Azzi turned slightly, her hand now resting a little firmer against Paige’s stomach.

Without even thinking about it, they turned toward each other.

For a moment, it was just them.

Azzi smiled first—it was small, soft, just for Paige—and Paige couldn’t help but mirror it, her grip tightening slightly on Azzi’s waist.

Click.

Paige barely heard the sound of the camera going off, but she knew that shit was about to be everywhere.

…

After showering and changing in the locker room Paige felt the exhaustion in her body, but the second she stepped into the garage and saw her car, that tiredness melted away.

She couldn’t fully see Azzi through the tint, but she knew she was in there.

A slow smile spread across Paige’s face as she walked past the driver’s side, stopping at the passenger door instead. She opened it, reaching inside and gently pulling Azzi out.

Azzi blinked at her, momentarily confused, adjusting her balance as she placed her cowboy hat on the seat behind her. "What are you doing?"

Paige just smiled, shutting the door before settling her hands on Azzi’s waist. Her gaze dragged over Azzi’s face, then down to her outfit—the denim skirt showing off just enough to make Paige’s pulse stutter.

“You look so good, baby,” Paige mumbled.

Azzi gave a small smile as she wrapped her arms around Paige’s neck. She hummed, tilting her head slightly.

“I know you already told me P.”

Paige chuckled under her breath, shaking her head. The moment felt thick now—like all the tension from the night had finally caught up to them.

She leaned in, her lips hovering just above Azzi’s, “The correct response is thank you baby.”

Azzi rolled her eyes and exhaled softly, her back pressing against the car as she followed Paige’s lead, tilting her chin up just enough to close the space between them.

The kiss was deep and desperate—the kind that made up for lost time. They hadn’t seen each other in over a week, and while that might not have been long for most people, for them, it felt like forever.

Paige’s tongue slid into Azzi’s mouth, her grip tightening as her hands moved under Azzi’s skirt, squeezing her ass.

Azzi let out a small sound at the feeling, a mix between a gasp and a pleased hum, pulling Paige closer as their bodies pressed together against the car.

They stayed tangled in each other for a while enjoying the feeling of the others lips after so long, But then Paige started trailing kisses down Azzi’s jaw, then lower, her lips brushing against the soft parts of her neck.

Azzi let out a breathy laugh, her hands coming up to Paige’s shoulders. “Alright, that’s enough ma’am.”

Paige mumbled against her skin, her voice muffled. “Come on, I miss you Az.”

Azzi smiled, tilting Paige’s chin up slightly so their eyes met. “I miss you too, baby, but we’re in public. And still in your place of work.”

Paige sighed dramatically, pulling back just enough to pout at her. “Fine.”

Azzi grinned before leaning in one last time, pressing a quick kiss to Paige’s lips, then turned toward the car. Paige exhaled, shaking her head fondly, before opening the passenger door for her.

As Azzi stepped in, Paige smiled, landing a playful smack on her butt. Azzi shot her a look over her shoulder, but the small playful smile on her lips betrayed her.

Paige shut the door, chuckling to herself as she made her way around to the driver’s side.

As Paige pulled out of the garage, steering them toward the afterparty, she finally got to ask the question that had been sitting in the back of her mind all night.

“How the hell did you even make it to the game?”

Azzi smiled, leaning back in her seat. “I moved my meeting up.”

Paige furrowed her brows, sparing a glance at Azzi before turning her attention back to the road. “To what time? It was already early as hell.”

Azzi shrugged slightly, like it was nothing. “Six.”

Paige’s head snapped toward her so fast she nearly forgot she was driving. “Six A.M.?”

Azzi hummed in confirmation, barely reacting.

“Baby, that’s crazy,” Paige said, shaking her head, still processing.

Azzi just shrugged again, scrolling on her phone.

Paige narrowed her eyes. “Did you close it?”

Azzi turned to her, giving her a look like she was almost offended by the question. “Of course.”

Paige grinned, reaching over and squeezing Azzi’s thigh. “That’s my girl.”

They kept talking as they drove, catching up even though they had talked every single day. Paige’s hand stayed resting on Azzi’s thigh, her fingers lazily tracing patterns over her skin as they talked.

Azzi didn’t mind. She let it stay there for most of the ride.

But then, at some point, Paige’s hand slid a little too high.

Azzi glanced at her, eyes narrowing. “Can you not?”

Paige didn’t even look at her, barely suppressing a smirk. “What?” she asked innocently, moving her pinky slightly just to prove a point.

Azzi scoffed. “You know what you’re doing.”

Paige smirked now, finally glancing at her. “I don’t know why you wore that skirt if you didn’t want me touching you.”

Azzi rolled her eyes. “I wore it for you.”

Paige grinned, turning her focus back to the road. “Exactly. So let me be.”

Azzi huffed, shaking her head, but she didn’t bother fighting it.

As they drove through the city, Paige glanced over at Azzi, who was casually scrolling through her phone.

“You know,” she started, drumming her fingers against the steering wheel, “if you would’ve told me you were coming, I probably would’ve played a lot better in the first few minutes of the game.”

Azzi grinned but didn’t look up. “And miss the chance to see your reaction when you noticed me on the jumbotron? Nah.”

Paige scoffed, shaking her head. “You’re rude.”

Azzi finally looked over at her, her smile softening. “You looked good out there, though baby I’m proud of you.”

Paige grinned, tilting her head. “Just good?”

Azzi sighed, playing along. “Fine. You looked great.”

“That’s more like it.” Paige reached over and squeezed Azzi’s thigh, then let her hand rest there again. “You staying with me for the whole month, right?”

Azzi nodded. “Yup. Figured I’d get tired of you after two weeks, but I’ll push through.”

Paige scoffed. “You love being around me.”

Azzi hummed. “You’re alright I guess.”

Paige gave her a look. “Bro please be for real.”

Azzi laughed, leaning back in her seat. “Okay, okay, yeah. I might love being around you all the time, just a little.”

Paige smirked. “That’s what I thought.”

They fell into a comfortable silence again, the only sound being the low hum of the car. After a moment, Paige gave Azzi’s thigh another squeeze before deciding to voice her thoughts.

“I want you to keep it on later,” she said, giving no context.

Azzi turned her head slowly, raising a brow. She didn’t need to ask what Paige meant—she knew.

“Who said you’re getting anything later?”

Paige shot her a quick look, deadpan. “Be for real Azzi.”

Azzi bit back a smile, letting the moment linger before finally sighing dramatically. “Whatever. I’ll think about it.”

Paige smirked as she pulled the car to a stop in front of the club. “Yeah, okay.”

As Paige handed her keys to the valet, she turned just in time to see Azzi stepping out of the car, holding down her skirt as she did so. Paige sighed, running a hand down her face.

“Nah,” she mumbled, eyes trailing down Azzi’s legs before flicking back up. “You’re not leaving my sight tonight.”

Azzi rolled her eyes but smiled, reaching for Paige’s hand and interlacing their fingers. “You’re so dramatic.”

Paige just shook her head. “I’m deadass.”

They walked into the venue, the bass from the music vibrating through the floor as they entered. The afterparty was already in full swing, players, friends, family and staff scattered across the club. Neon lights flickered over the bar, where bottles gleamed and loud laughter echoed over the music.

Before they could make it too far inside, a familiar voice rang out.

“P!”

Paige barely had time to react before Arike, already a few shots in, threw an arm around her shoulder. Her grin was as she pulled Paige in.

“We’re about to go crazy this year,” Arike yelled. “Tonight’s just the start rook.”

Paige laughed, nodding along. “You’re not wrong.”

Arike squeezed her shoulder before letting her go, and moving back toward the dance floor.

Paige turned toward Azzi, who just gave her an amused look. “She’s so different from what I expected.”

Paige laughed. “Bro just give her three more shots, and she’s gonna pull out a bible and make them turn off the music.”

Azzi chuckled as Paige nodded toward the bar. “C’mon, I see Lou, Ice, and KK.”

They made their way over, spotting them leaning against the counter, drinks in hand. Ice was mid-sip when she noticed them, setting her drink down with a smile.

“Look who finally decided to show up,” Ice teased, nudging KK. “And look at Paige bro.”

KK snorted, giving Azzi an exaggerated once-over. “I see why. Azzi, you tryna get someone in trouble tonight?”

Azzi rolled her eyes but smiled. “I literally just got here, and y’all are already on me?”

Lou laughed, sipping her drink. “You did walk in looking like that, though. You knew what you were doing.”

Paige hummed, wrapping an arm loosely around Azzi’s waist. “Exactly what I’ve been saying.”

Azzi just shook her head, leaning into Paige slightly. “Y’all are ridiculous.”

Lou raised her glass. “To another season and all of Paige’s sanity being tested.”

…

Paige and Azzi leaned against the bar, the bass of the music making the floor vibrate as they waited for another shot to accompany the drink they already had. The club was packed now. Paige had one arm draped loosely around Azzi’s waist, absentmindedly tracing her thumb over the fabric of her jersey as she barely listened to what Ice, KK, and Lou were saying.

Azzi took a slow sip from her glass, her lips wrapping around the straw before smirking at Paige. “You gonna keep staring at me, or you actually gonna drink yours?”

Paige huffed a laugh, taking a sip, eyes still on Azzi. “Hard not to when you’re wearing that.” Her hand brushed against the hem of Azzi’s short denim skirt, making Azzi arch an eyebrow at her.

“You’re horny,” Azzi murmured, leaning in just slightly so only Paige could hear.

Paige just grinned, shrugging. “I’ve been told.”

Their easy back-and-forth continued as they downed a couple of drinks, the warmth settling in and loosening them up. They weren’t being overly affectionate—just hanging out, laughing with their friends, letting the night settle around them. At one point, Lou challenged them to a ridiculous game of guessing random people’s professions just based on their outfits, and Paige and Azzi found themselves doubled over when KK confidently said some guy was a lawyer, only for him to turn around wearing a DJ staff badge.

Just as Paige was finishing her drink, she noticed Arike waving her over from a section across the club. With a smirk, she turned to Azzi, reaching up to flick the brim of her cowboy hat playfully.

“I’ll be right back, beautiful,” she murmured, her voice just low enough for Azzi to feel it more than hear it.

Azzi tilted her head. “Don’t take too long,” she said simply, sipping her drink again as Paige walked away.

A few minutes after Paige left Azzi was mid-sip of her drink when she felt someone slide up next to her at the bar. She barely had time to set her glass down before she heard a voice— one with a beach accent and distinctly unfamiliar.

“Hi, I’m Sevgi, but most people call me Sev. Or Gi.”

Azzi turned slightly, taking in the dark-haired woman beside her. Sevgi’s accent was thick, her posture confident as she leaned against the bar. Azzi, assuming she was just introducing herself as one of Paige’s new teammates, smiled politely and shook her hand.

“Azzi.”

Sevgi held her gaze, her lips forming into a smile. “You’re beautiful, Azzi.”

Azzi almost choked on her drink. She set it down quickly, grabbing a napkin to wipe her lips before forcing a tight smile. “Uh… thanks.”

Sevgi’s expression remained relaxed, like she hadn’t just casually caught Azzi off guard. “I’ve watched a few UConn games but I haven’t seen you around before. Did you move to Dallas?”

Azzi shook her head, sipping her drink again. “No, I don’t live here yet. I’m just visiting Paige for a while before going back to school.”

Sevgi’s gaze flickering toward where Paige was standing talking to Arike before settling back on Azzi. “Ah, so you’re here for Paige?” She hummed as if processing something. “Seems like a lot of people are, they love her already around here.”

Azzi simply hummed, confused by the comment. Suddenly wondering where the hell Ice and KK disappeared to.

Sevgi took another sip of her drink before smiling. “Paige Bueckers. One of the best to ever do it they say.” Her eyes flickered over Azzi’s face, her voice dropping just slightly. “I think she’s even luckier than I realized.”

Azzi’s brows lifted, her body tensing slightly as she finally clocked what was happening.

Before she could fully react, Sevgi leaned in just a fraction, lowering her voice like she was letting Azzi in on a secret. “I have a thing for shooters,” she said, her tone light but suggestive. “Especially ones with eyes like yours.”

Azzi, not really knowing how to navigate this, just says “Huh….”

Sevgi grinned, her fingers lightly drumming against the bar. “Mm. There’s something about precision, about the way a shooter locks in. So much focus, so much control…” Her voice dipped just slightly as she added, “It’s very attractive.”

Azzi exhaled through her nose, half amused by the attempt, half uncomfortable. She wasn’t sure if Sevgi just had a naturally flirtatious personality or if she genuinely had no idea that Azzi was very much taken.

Just as she opened her mouth to say something—anything to shift the conversation—she felt an all-too-familiar presence beside her.

Paige, who had returned from talking to Arike and was now standing between them with an unreadable expression.

Azzi barely had time to react to her presence before Paige’s hand was resting on the back of her neck.

“You’re a little close there, Gi, no?” Paige’s voice was light, but there was a slight edge beneath it that Azzi caught.

Sevgi turned her attention to Paige, offering a smooth smile. “I was just getting to know your—” she glanced at Azzi as if choosing her words carefully, “—your beautiful friend from UConn.”

Paige’s jaw tensed slightly, but she didn’t let it show, her fingers subtly tightening against Azzi’s neck. “Yeah? Well, my beautiful girlfriend doesn’t need any new friends tonight.”

Azzi bit the inside of her cheek, holding back a smirk.

Sevgi’s smile didn’t waver. “You know rook, in my culture, we don’t limit beautiful women to just one.”

Paige’s jaw tightened at that comment. “Look, Gi,” she said, her voice calm, “I really don’t know you that well yet, so I don’t know if you’re trying to be disrespectful or not, but I really hope that’s not the case.”

Sevgi held her gaze for a moment longer before raising her hands in mock surrender. “No disrespect. Just an observation is all.”

Paige didn’t blink. “Yeah? Well, here’s another one since we’re giving out observations—you’re standing too close to my girl.”

Sevgi exhaled, taking a small step back. “Noted.” She gave Azzi one last lingering look before saying, “Still… you’re stunning.”

Paige let out a sharp breath, her patience wearing thin.

Azzi, deciding to cut things off before Paige really lost her temper, gave Sevgi a polite but firm smile. “Appreciate it, but I’m good where I’m at. Really.”

Sevgi smiled but didn’t push further. “Fair enough.” She grabbed her drink and disappeared back into the crowd.

As soon as Sevgi was gone, Paige turned fully toward Azzi. Her jaw was still tight, but her eyes softened slightly as she took in Azzi’s amused expression.

“I leave you alone for two seconds,” Paige muttered, shaking her head.

Azzi laughed, looping her arms around Paige’s neck and pulling her in closer. “Not my fault I look good.”

Paige huffed, her fingers tugging at the hem of Azzi’s skirt. “It’s because of the skirt.”

Azzi let out another laugh, glancing down. “You can barely see my skirt—I’m sitting down.”

Paige hugged her tighter, her lips brushing against Azzi’s ear as she said, “Exactly. It’s too short.”

Azzi raised an eyebrow, smirking. “You weren’t saying that when you were grabbing my ass in the garage.”

Paige’s expression flickered for a moment before a smile spread across her lips. “Mmm… you make a good point.”

Before Azzi could respond, Paige pulled her up from her seat, and palmed her ass with both hands, squeezing firmly.

Azzi gasped, half-laughing. “Paige—”

“What?” Paige murmured, leaning in, voice dropping lower. “You were making a good point baby.”

Azzi exhaled, biting her lip as she shook her head. “You’re a perv.”

Paige rolled her eyes, completely unbothered. “No, I’m not. You’re my girl.”

Azzi huffed like she was annoyed, but the way she wrapped her arms fully around Paige’s head said otherwise. She pulled Paige in, pressing their lips together in a kiss. Paige responds immediately, squeezing her closer. The music and noise of the club faded into the background, the warmth of the moment making Azzi’s fingers tighten slightly in Paige’s hair.

Paige gave Azzi’s butt another squeeze, deepening the kiss, but just as she was about to take it a step further, Azzi mumbled against her lips, “I’m bored.”

Paige pulled back just enough to look at her. “Kissing me is boring now?”

Azzi rolled her eyes, fingers still playing with the hairs at the back of Paige’s neck. “No, us being here is boring.”

Paige smirked. “Oh yeah? What you wanna do then?”

Azzi tilted her head slightly, eyes flickering over Paige’s face as she tugged at the jersey she was wearing. “Go home,” she murmured. “Maybe show you how much I miss you… wear this for you like you want me to.”

Paige let out a quiet laugh. “Yeah come on, we’re leaving.”

The drive back to Paige’s apartment was quiet, the soft hum of music playing in the background as the Dallas city lights blurred past them. Azzi’s hand rested lightly over Paige’s, which had been sitting comfortably on her thigh since they got in the car. Neither of them had spoken much.

Paige was focused on the road, her fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns against Azzi’s skin, but then she felt Azzi’s hand shifting, guiding Paige’s palm higher up her thigh. Paige’s grip instinctively tightened for a brief second before she shot her a look.

“Azzi,” she warned.

Azzi just hummed, acting innocent as she leaned over the center console, playing with the short hairs at the back of Paige’s neck. Paige swallowed hard, keeping her eyes locked on the road.

“You’re gonna make me crash,” Paige muttered, her jaw clenching slightly.

Azzi smirked, watching her with that look in her eyes. “Then keep your eyes on the road, baby.” Her fingers still tracing over Paige’s skin, her nails lightly scratching at the nape of her neck just to make her shiver.

Paige exhaled through her nose, trying to ignore the heat creeping up her spine, but then she felt Azzi shift closer, pressing a soft, fleeting kiss to the side of her neck.

“Azzi.” This time, her voice was rougher.

“Hmm?” Azzi responded innocently, her lips grazing against her again.

Paige let out a slow breath through her nose, gripping the wheel a little tighter as she cast a quick glance at Azzi. A smirk was playing on her lips like she knew exactly what she was doing.

“What you doing, baby?” Paige asked, her voice lower now.

Azzi’s lips brushed against her jaw again, just barely. “I just miss you,” she murmured, her fingers still tracing soft patterns at the back of Paige’s neck.

Paige exhaled sharply but didn’t stop her. “You’re making it hard to drive, pretty girl.”

Azzi leaned back slightly, but not enough to fully retreat, still draped over the center console. “You’ve done more while you were driving before.”

Paige shot her another side glance, smirking now. “I remember. You couldn’t wait until we got home.”

Azzi hummed, tilting her head slightly. “Exactly. I had on jeans if I remember correctly.”

Paige swallowed, her jaw tightening as the memory rushed back to her. She nodded, gripping the wheel a little harder.

Azzi’s gaze flickered down to Paige’s hands before she spoke again, her voice quieter, almost too casual for what she was implying. “I have on a skirt now.”

Paige’s knuckles went white on the wheel.

Paige glanced at her, eyes flickering over her face before settling on her lips for just a second too long. “You drunk or something, baby?” she asked.

Azzi met her gaze. “No,” she said simply. “I told you, I just miss you.” She shifted slightly, her nails tracing absentmindedly over the back of Paige’s hand. “You think I dressed like this for fun?”

Paige swallowed, her throat suddenly feeling dry. Without thinking, she moved her hand up, her pinky brushing lightly against Azzi’s inner thigh.

Azzi let out the softest sigh, barely audible over the low hum of the music. She didn’t say anything, just leaned back and watched her.

Paige exhaled, shaking her head as a slow smirk spread across her lips. “You really tryna kill me tonight, huh?”

Azzi smiled, leaning her head back against the seat. “No. Not yet.”

Paige’s pinky traced slow, deliberate circles against Azzi’s underwear. She kept her eyes on the road, but the slight smile on her lips told Azzi she was enjoying this.

Azzi exhaled softly, shifting just a little, her breath hitching when Paige’s fingers pressed firmer for half a second before retreating, barely there.

Paige hummed. “You were saying?” she mused.

Azzi bit her lip, eyes dark as she glanced over at Paige. “I said… not yet.” Her voice was breathier now, betraying the effect Paige’s teasing was having on her.

Paige chuckled under her breath, her fingers tracing lazily along Azzi’s center, never quite moving where Azzi wanted but never pulling away either. Every so often, her knuckles would graze a little firmer, making Azzi’s legs tense slightly before relaxing again.

Azzi let out another quiet sigh, her fingers curling against the seat. “You’re playing too much,” she said, her voice laced with some frustration.

Paige turned her head just enough to meet her gaze, her smile growing. “Oh, now I’m the one playing?” She pressed her fingers a little more firmly, dragging them slowly along, savoring the way Azzi’s breath hitched again.

Azzi inhaled sharply, her whole body tensing in anticipation the moment Paige’s hand slipped beneath her underwear. Her eyes fluttered shut, a soft breath escaping her lips as she waited.

But then, suddenly, the warmth of Paige’s touch was gone completely.

Azzi’s eyes snapped open just in time to catch Paige lifting her thumb to her mouth, sucking on it.

Paige’s expression was casual, her eyes locked on the road, one hand steady on the wheel.

Azzi let out a sharp exhale, half frustration, half disbelief. “You’re such an asshole.”

Paige hummed around her thumb before popping it out with a smirk. “Oh, now I’m an asshole?” She flicked her gaze over to Azzi, blue eyes sparkling. “But I thought you missed me?”

Azzi clenched her jaw, narrowing her eyes as she shifted in her seat. “I do.” Her voice was firm, but there was a slight pout forming on her lips.

Paige chuckled under her breath, shaking her head. “Then be patient, baby.” Her hand returned to Azzi’s thigh, but this time, it was just resting there.

Azzi huffed, crossing her arms. “You’re mean.”

Paige fired back instantly, her smile only growing. “And you’re a brat.”

Azzi scoffed, shifting in her seat again so she was leaning away from Paige. “Maybe if you weren’t being so mean, I wouldn’t have to be.”

Paige let out a chuckle, squeezing Azzi’s thigh before pulling back again, just to be a tease. “Oh, is that how it works? So it’s my fault?”

Azzi turned her head to look at her. “Obviously.”

Paige bit back a grin, keeping her eyes on the road. “Sounds like someone needs to learn the word patience.”

Azzi let out a scoff. “I think someone needs to stop talking and drive faster.”

Paige hummed in amusement. “Oh, now you want me to focus on driving?” She shot Azzi a quick glance, lifting a brow. “Wasn’t that an issue, like, five minutes ago?”

Azzi exhaled through her nose, shaking her head. “That was different.”

Paige laughed softly, reaching over to tug at the hem of Azzi’s jersey, pulling her slightly closer. “Mm. Convenient.”

Azzi let out a quiet groan, flopping back in her seat. “I hate you.”

Paige just chuckled again, squeezing Azzi’s thigh one last time before finally giving in and stepping on the gas just a little harder.

As Paige pulled into the garage, she barely had the car in park before Azzi was already unbuckling her seatbelt and pushing the door open.

Paige watched in amusement as Azzi slipped out, her long legs moving toward the house without so much as a glance back. Paige let out a chuckle, shaking her head as she turned off the engine.

By the time she made it inside, Azzi was by the entryway, bent down as she worked on taking off her cowboy boots. Paige let her eyes roam, taking in the way Azzi’s skirt rode up completely with the position, exposing more of her toned legs. Smirking, Paige stepped up behind her, hands easily finding her hips before she rolled her hips forward, playfully pressing into her.

“Don’t be like that, baby,” Paige murmured.

Azzi sucked in a sharp breath before immediately shoving her off, making Paige stumble back a step. She stood up, kicking off her boots without sparing Paige a glance before walking deeper into the house.

Paige chuckled, licking her lips as she followed. “Oh, so now you’re ignoring me?”

Azzi still didn’t say anything.

Paige smirked, enjoying this way too much. “Why you being like that, baby? I thought you missed me?”

Azzi exhaled, her hands clenching briefly at her sides, but she kept moving.

Paige trailed behind her grinning. “Mmm. What happened to all that talk in the car?”

Just as she reached the bedroom door, Azzi stopped. She turned her head slightly, finally meeting Paige’s gaze.

Paige smirked at that, stepping into the bedroom with an easy confidence. Azzi followed closely behind, her eyes immediately catching on something new.

“When’d you get that?” Azzi asked, nodding toward the large mirror now positioned perfectly in the room.

Paige’s smile grew, as she leaned casually against the dresser. “Got here yesterday.”

Azzi hummed, her gaze flicking between the mirror and the bed, taking in the angle, mentally mapping it out. Her lips curved slightly. “I like it.”

Paige pushed off the dresser, stepping closer until she was right in front of Azzi, tilting her chin up.

“That’s why I got it.”

Azzi rolled her eyes and tried to walk away again, but Paige was quicker, grabbing her wrist and pulling her back with little effort.

"Stop being a brat.”

Azzi just looked at her, lips pressed together, refusing to respond. Paige wasn’t fazed. Instead, she tugged her closer by the waist, dipping her head to press a kiss to Azzi’s neck.

"Let me get rid of that attitude for you," Paige whispered, her lips dragging against Azzi’s skin.

For a moment, Azzi’s resolve wavered. Her breath caught, and she instinctively tilted her head to the side, granting Paige more access. But just as quickly, she remembered why she was mad. With a sharp exhale, she planted her hands on Paige’s shoulders and shoved her back—not hard enough to truly push her away, but enough to make a point.

Paige only laughed, her tongue brushing over her bottom lip as she grinned. "Oh, you’re really mad, huh?"

“Yes you called me desperate.”

Paige’s jaw dropped. “Bro, no I didn’t.”

Azzi’s glare was instant. “Don’t ‘bro’ me.”

Paige sighed, pulling Azzi closer again, her hands resting firmly on her waist. “Baby, I did not call you desperate.”

Azzi didn’t budge. “You basically did.”

Paige huffed out a small laugh, shaking her head before dipping down to press slow, open-mouthed kisses against Azzi’s neck. “I didn’t,” she muttered between kisses. “But even if I did, it doesn’t matter.” Her lips traveled lower. “You know I love it when you’re like that for me.”

Azzi’s breath hitched, her body betraying her as her head tilted again, granting Paige more access. But she didn’t fully give in—her hands remained stubbornly at her sides, her posture still carrying the weight of her petty grudge.

Paige smirked against her skin, nipping just lightly before pulling back. “What I gotta do to make it up to you, baby?”

Azzi’s lips finally formed a smile at that, looking at her. “I wanna go back to the car.”

Paige raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised. “We have a whole house, baby. Why you wanna go to the car?”

Azzi shrugged, but there was a glint in her eyes. “Because we haven’t fucked in your new car yet.” She let that sink in before adding casually, “And it’s bigger than your Jeep.”

Paige scoffed, about to respond when Azzi leaned in close, her breath warm against her ear.

“And,” Azzi murmured, right before biting down softly on Paige’s earlobe, “you can’t run from me in the car.”

Paige swallowed hard, her eyes fluttering closed for a brief second as she licked her lips. She nodded—maybe a little too eagerly—before mumbling, “Okay… yeah, we can go to the car. Whatever you want.”

Azzi beamed at that, turning on her heel and heading toward the closet immediately. Paige watched her, smirking when she saw the first thing Azzi grabbed. But then her smirk dropped completely when she saw the second.

Her brow furrowed. “What’s that for?”

Azzi barely glanced at her as she responded, “You know what it’s for.”

Paige’s stomach tightened as she watched Azzi casually walk out of the bedroom, clearly expecting her to follow. She hesitated for a second before trailing behind her, saying, “I almost died last time we tried that.”

Azzi threw a smile over her shoulder. “Well, you shouldn’t have called me desperate.”

Paige groaned, dragging a hand down her face. “She’s about to kill me,” she mumbled under her breath, shaking her head as she followed Azzi out of the room, through the house, and straight into the garage.

Paige got in the car first pushing both front seats forward to create more space. She moved with ease, but there was still an underlying tension in her movements—anticipation low in her stomach as she adjusted the seats. Once she was satisfied, she leaned back, expecting Azzi to climb onto her lap like she always did.

But instead, Azzi leaned forward, connecting her phone to the car’s Bluetooth. Paige watched her, eyebrow raising slightly as Azzi scrolled through her playlists, carefully ensuring the engine wasn’t actually on before the speakers filled the car.

Paige exhaled through her nose, smirking as she rested her hands on her thighs. “You settin’ the mood or something?”

Azzi didn’t answer. She took her time, adjusting the volume, tilting her head as if she was testing how the music sounded in the space. Then, finally, she settled in the back seat, straddling Paige hips, her hands finding their place on Paige’s shoulders.

Paige’s smile grew as her hands settled on Azzi’s waist. “That a yes?” she teased.

Azzi smiled, leaning in so her lips just barely brushed Paige’s. “Stop talking.”

Paige nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. “Yes, ma’am.”

Azzi didn’t give her a chance to add anything else before she closed the distance, her lips molding against Paige’s in a kiss that she led with confidence. Her tongue slipped past Paige’s lips, exploring her mouth like she owned it, and Paige let her—let her take, let her have, let her do whatever she wanted.

Paige’s hands found Azzi’s butt, pulling her in until there was nothing between them, her fingers flexing underneath Azzi’s skirt.

It was always a miracle how long they could stay like this—kissing and learning each other over and over again—until their lips were almost raw and they were both burning from the inside out.

Paige was completely under Azzi’s control, gripping her like she was afraid to let go, as Azzi’s hand wrapped securely around her neck. Every time Paige tried to shift, to gain a little more, Azzi only tightened her grip, keeping her where she wanted.

When Paige finally broke away from the kiss, her breathing was uneven and her lips were tingling. “Baby, please.”

Azzi looked down at her. “Please what?”

Paige groaned, her hands sliding up Azzi’s back in frustration. “I need something.”

Azzi hummed, tilting her head as if she was considering it . “Mm.” She leaned in, brushing her lips over Paige’s jawline before trailing down to her neck.

Azzi smiled, running her fingers through the hair at the nape of Paige’s neck, tugging just enough to make Paige suck in a breath. She moved up, her lips barely grazing the shell of Paige’s ear as she whispered, “I haven’t even done anything yet.”

Paige let out a shaky exhale, her fingers flexing against Azzi’s thighs before she murmured, “That’s the problem, baby.”

She tried to slide her hands up, reaching for the hem of Azzi’s skirt, but before she could make contact, Azzi caught her wrists, intertwining their fingers as she pinned them down. “I didn’t say you could do that.”

Paige sighed, tightening her jaw as she let her head fall back against the seat in surrender. She was burning with impatience, but she knew better than to fight Azzi on this—not when she was playing her little game.

Azzi took full advantage of the position, tilting her head to press slow, open-mouthed kisses down the side of Paige’s throat, occasionally nipping at her skin just to feel the way Paige shuddered beneath her. Paige sighed heavily, groaning here and there, murmuring pleas in between sharp intakes of breath. But every time she tried to coax Azzi into more, Azzi only chuckled against her skin, whispering smug remarks in return.

“You getting desperate, baby?”

Paige groaned. “Azzi—”

Azzi licked a long trail up her neck. “Mmm. You’re cute when you beg P.”

Paige scoffed. “I’m not begging.”

Azzi pulled back slightly, tilting her head. Then she smirked. “You don’t want me?”

Paige swallowed hard, her hands twitching where Azzi still had them pinned. “Course I do.”

Azzi hummed in satisfaction before whispering, “Then beg for it.” She bit down a little harsher this time, drawing a sharp inhale from Paige before soothing the spot with her tongue.

Paige held firm, refusing to give in so easily. She just let Azzi work her way along her neck knowing exactly how to unravel her. But Azzi knew this little front of Paige’s all too well. Knew the stubbornness. Knew exactly how to break it.

So she shifted, pressing her hips down just a little more, her breath fanning against Paige’s ear as she let out the softest moan.

Just like that, Paige cracked. “Fuck—Az, please, baby.”

Azzi smiled. “Please what, Paige?”

Paige groaned, her voice rough. “Lemme get you right.”

Azzi chuckled at that, pulling back just enough to meet Paige’s gaze. “Oh? Is that what’s gonna happen?”

Paige only hummed in response, her hands finally breaking free to palm at Azzi’s butt, pulling her in closer.

Azzi just smiled down at Paige as her fingers worked at the buckle of Paige’s belt, taking her time, teasing her without any words. Paige just watched her, eyes hooded, a small grin tugging at her lips.

Azzi caught the expression and arched her eyebrow. “What are you smiling at?”

Paige exhaled a soft chuckle, tilting her head back slightly against the seat. “You look good.”

Azzi hummed at that, feigning nonchalance, but the way her lips curled told a different story. “Yeah?”

Paige’s eyes flicked between Azzi’s hands and her face, her grin widening just a little. “Yeah. Real good.”

Azzi shook her head, amused, but didn’t argue.

Once Paige’s belt was undone, Azzi slipped off her lap simply saying, “Take off your clothes,” as she began to unzip her own skirt.

Paige immediately obliges, tugging at her clothes, ripping them off as if they were on fire. Once they were off, she reaches for the harness silently praying Azzi doesn’t remember what else she grabbed.

Azzi chuckles at this, reaching over Paige to grab the small vibrator she had sitting there. She looks at Paige expectantly, not saying anything as she pushes it toward her.

Paige sighs as she takes it from Azzi’s hand and slides the vibrator into the slits of the harness, turning it on before she pulls the harness against herself, taking a sharp breath immediately at the feeling.

Once Paige was situated Azzi climbed back onto her lap, settling on her thighs first as she gathered her long braids, moving them to one side. Paige watched her, eyes hazy, the desire in her eyes unmistakable.

“Nah,” Paige murmured, voice rough. “You need to get on it now.”

Azzi chuckled softly, dragging the moment out just a little longer before she lifts her hips up and eases herself on top of Paige slowly, letting out a quiet sigh as she did.

Paige’s reaction was instant. Her head fell back against the seat, a deep groan escaping her lips. “Fuck baby,” she breathed, arms lifting to rest on the back of the headrests, fingers flexing as she tried to keep herself from reaching for Azzi knowing she wouldn’t last long if she did.

Azzi kept her eyes locked on Paige as she rolled her hips moving like she was putting on a performance just for her. A teasing smile on her lips as she watched Paige try not to unravel beneath her.

Paige’s head was still thrown back against the seat, arms stretched over the headrest like she was watching a show—but the longer Azzi moved, the harder it became for her to keep up the act. Her jaw tightened, eyes fluttering closed as she swallowed hard.

Azzi smirked at that. She leaned forward, grabbing Paige’s arms from the headrest and guiding them around her waist, forcing Paige to hold her. As soon as Paige’s hands found their place on Azzi’s hips, Azzi tangled her fingers into Paige’s hair, tugging gently as she whispered near her ear, “You’re supposed to be watching, baby.”

A low moan escaped Paige’s lips. “I can’t, baby.”

Azzi hummed in amusement, her movements never faltering as her own breath got a little uneven. “Why not?”

Paige sucked in a breath, struggling for words. “Because…”

Azzi chuckled, her breath warm against Paige’s ear. “That’s not a full sentence,” she teased, letting a soft gasp slip as she pressed herself closer.

Paige groaned, tightening her grip on Azzi’s waist as she felt the deliberate push against her. Azzi pulled back slightly, her fingers grazing the hem of Paige’s jersey she had on, lifting it just enough to make Paige’s breath hitch. The slow, torturous pace was getting to her.

Paige was never one to let Azzi have all the control. Wanting to turn the tide in her favor a little, she lifted her hips into her, just enough to catch Azzi off guard. Azzi let out a sharp moan, her eyes fluttering closed as the movement sent a jolt through her.

Mmm, what happened, baby?” Paige purred, her voice dripping with amusement as she tilted her head, watching Azzi’s every move. Her hands slid down to Azzi’s ass, fingers tightening as she pulled her even closer, grinding against her slowly. “Getting a little lost, huh?”

Azzi’s breath hitched, her hands gripping Paige’s arms for leverage. “Probably you more than me.”

Paige’s grin widened as she felt Azzi’s breath stutter, the slight hesitation before she recovered. “Mmm, I don’t think so baby,” Paige whispered as she lifted Azzi’s hips completely before pushing them back down.

Azzi’s jaw tightened, refusing to let Paige see just how much she was getting to her. Instead, she retaliated, rolling her hips, pressing down against Paige in a way that forced a sharp inhale from her lips.

The smirks on both of their faces never fell as they pushed and pulled, challenging each other for dominance. Paige’s fingers dug into Azzi’s hips as she tried to hold her still, but Azzi countered by shifting forward, her hands sliding up Paige’s arms before pressing into her shoulders for leverage.

Neither wanted to give in, their bodies moving in sync as they played their little game—one teasing, the other taunting, both determined to win. Little sounds slipped from their lips, unintentional reactions to the tension between them, to the way their control over the situation teetered with every movement.

Azzi leaned in, her lips hovering over Paige’s, their heavy breaths mingling. “You sure you’re winning this one, baby?” she taunted, her voice just barely above a whisper.

Paige swallowed, as she smirked. “You’re not.”

Azzi, not liking that, rolled her hips down again, watching as Paige’s head fell back against the seat, her fingers tightening around Azzi’s waist. Paige sucked in a breath through gritted teeth, trying to hold on to her composure, but Azzi caught the way her body twitched under her.

Paige recovered quickly, exhaling sharply as she dragged her hands up Azzi’s back.

She flipped their positions pressing Azzi back against the seat, her hands pinning Azzi’s wrists on either side of her head. Azzi’s eyes widened in surprise before she let out a soft chuckle, biting her lip as she looked up at Paige before pulling her in for a kiss.

Paige groaned against Azzi’s lips, her fingers gripping at the jersey, bunching the fabric in her fists as she deepened the kiss. Azzi hummed into her mouth, pulling Paige closer, her hands sliding up Paige’s back before tangling in her hair. The kiss was messy, all tongue neither of them holding back as they pushed and pulled at each other, fighting for control even now.

Paige nipped at Azzi’s bottom lip, pulling away just enough to murmur, “You look so fucking good in this, baby.” Her voice was thick, her eyes heavy as she tugged at the jersey again.

Azzi smirked against her lips, tilting her head slightly. “Yeah? You like it?” she teased, running her hands down Paige’s back before gripping her waist, and flipping their positions back. Paige barely had time to react before she found herself against the seat again, Azzi now on top, straddling her once smirk again.

Paige's grip tightened instantly, her fingers digging into Azzi’s skin as her head fell back against the seat. “Fuck, I can’t, baby,” she groaned, her voice strained, eyes squeezed shut as she tried to hold on. “I’m close.”

Azzi, still in full control, shook her head. “No,” she murmured. “Not yet.”

Paige let out a desperate sound, her hands gripping harder as her breath came out in uneven pants. “I—I can’t control it, mama,” she admitted, her voice breaking slightly as she fought against the overwhelming feeling.

Azzi hummed in response, bringing Paige’s hands up to place them firmly on her chest under the jersey. “Yes, you can,” she whispered, pressing her forehead against Paige’s, their breaths mingling. Paige whimpered, eyes fluttering open just enough to meet Azzi’s gaze.

Azzi smirked, tilting her head as she kept her rhythm steady, teasing, pushing, and pulling Paige right to the edge but never letting her tip over. “I want you to hold it for me,” she mumbled against Paige’s lips, her fingers sliding into Paige’s hair.

Paige's jaw clenched as she let out a shaky breath, her entire body tense beneath Azzi. Her hands trembled slightly as she squeezed Azzi’s hips, desperately trying to focus, to obey, even though every fiber of her being wanted to let go. “Fuck I can’t,” she groaned, voice hoarse. “You’re killing me, baby.”

Azzi chuckled, pressing a kiss to Paige’s jaw. “No, I’m making you feel good.”

Paige’s grip faltered as she instinctively moved her hands away from Azzi’s waist, gripping the leather seats beside her in a desperate attempt to ground herself. But Azzi wasn’t having it. She grabbed Paige’s hands, guiding them right back to her hips.

Paige let out a shaky breath, her body tensing beneath Azzi’s as she struggled to maintain even a sliver of control. But Azzi knew exactly what she was doing—exactly how to unravel her.

Pressing soft, lingering kisses along Paige’s neck, Azzi hummed against her skin. “Why do you keep moving your hands, baby?” she whispered, her voice low, teasing.

Paige swallowed hard, her fingers twitching against Azzi’s waist. “I—I don’t know,” she mumbled, her voice barely audible.

Azzi smirked, kissing just below Paige’s ear. “Mmm. You don’t know?” she murmured, trailing her lips lower as her fingers traced slow circles against Paige’s wrist. “You always get like this when I take my time.”

Paige let out a frustrated groan, her fingers gripping Azzi’s hips even tighter. “Az..Fuck—Az please,” she breathed, her head falling back.

Azzi chuckled, running her fingers through Paige’s hair before gently tugging. “Did you like my outfit today?” she asked.

Paige let out a shuddering breath, her fingers flexing against Azzi’s waist. “What?”

Azzi kissed along her jaw, her teeth biting against the sensitive skin. “I saw you looking all night,” she continued, her tone light. “You think I wore it just because?”

Paige squeezed her eyes shut, her body reacting before she could even think of a response. Azzi was relentless—and completely in control.

“Tell me,” Azzi whispered, biting lightly at Paige’s ear. “Did you like it baby?”

Paige’s breath hitched, her hands gripping Azzi’s waist harder as she struggled beneath her, the tension in her stomach pulling with every word. “You know I did,” she admitted, her voice nearly breaking.

Azzi hummed in satisfaction, kissing down Paige’s neck again. “Good.”

Paige’s entire body was taut beneath Azzi, every muscle locked as she tried—desperately—to hold on. But Azzi kept dragging out every second.

“I’m close baby,” Azzi whispered, her voice strained, her hips still moving in perfect rhythm.

Paige groaned, her grip on Azzi’s waist bruising as she fought to keep herself together, her breathing ragged. “Baby, please,” she gasped, eyes fluttering shut, her resolve hanging by a thread.

Azzi leaned in, capturing Paige’s lips in a kiss that stole the last of her restraint. It was deep and possessive, sending a sharp, overwhelming heat rushing through Paige’s body.

That was all it took. Paige tensed beneath her, a strangled moan leaving her lips as she completely unraveled, her hands gripping Azzi like she was the only thing keeping her tethered to reality as her body started to shake.

But Azzi didn’t stop.

Even as Paige trembled beneath her, trying to catch her breath, trying to get Azzi to slow down, she kept moving—dragging her lips along Paige’s jaw, whimpering softly in her ear as she chased her own release.

Paige whined, her hands sliding from Azzi’s waist to her thighs in an attempt to stop her movements . Saying desperately, “Az, baby it’s too much. I can’t—”

Paige barely had time to finish her sentence before Azzi’s lips were on hers again, swallowing every whimper and shaky breath. Azzi kissed her deep, desperate, as if she was chasing something only Paige could give her.

Within seconds, Azzi’s body tensed on top of Paige, her grip tightening in Paige’s hair as she gasped into the kiss. Paige felt it—the way Azzi’s body shuddered, the way her fingers curled into her scalp, the way she bit down on Paige’s bottom lip to stifle the sound that threatened to escape.

Paige groaned into the kiss, overwhelmed by how good Azzi felt against her, by the way Azzi clung to her like she never wanted to let go. She held her close, letting her ride it out despite the tension rapidly growing in her stomach again as she pressed soothing kisses against her jaw as Azzi's breathing came in soft, uneven pants.

“Damn, baby,” Paige murmured, her voice rough, her hands still gripping Azzi’s waist like she needed something to ground herself.

Azzi let out a breathy chuckle, her forehead resting against Paige’s as she tried to collect herself. “Told you I wasn’t desperate,” she whispered, a smirk pulling at her lips despite how dazed she looked.

Not being able to take anymore Paige pushed Azzi off of her as she struggled to pull the vibrator off of her. Azzi chuckled as she watched Paige struggle, her chest still rising and falling unevenly. She leaned back against the seat, completely unbothered, while Paige ran a hand down her face, trying to collect herself.

But Paige wasn’t having it. With a huffed breath, she reached for the door handle, muttering, “We’re going upstairs.”

Azzi smirked, tilting her head as she reached for her skirt thrown on the seat. “Yeah?” she teased, raising an eyebrow.

Paige shot her a look, jaw tight, eyes still clouded. “Yeah,” she confirmed. “Now.”

Azzi hummed, pushing the car door open as she stepped out, stretching her arms lazily as if she wasn’t still feeling everything that just happened. As Paige moved to follow, Azzi turned back, biting her lip before murmuring, “I’ll be by the mirror baby.”

Paige turned off the car, taking a deep breath to steady herself before stepping out.

Azzi was already heading inside, her skirt discarded on the floor, leaving her still in nothing but that damn jersey that barely covered anything as she made her way upstairs. She didn’t even look back—just walked with an effortless sway that had Paige gripping the door frame for a second longer than necessary.

Paige smirked, licking her lips as she shut the door behind her. “I’m about to fuck her up,” she muttered to herself, rolling her shoulders back in confidence.

She followed Azzi up the stairs, her cocky smirk only growing as she shut the bedroom door.

[powderpinkandsweeet]

Ellie gets caught — Neighbor Ellie x Reader

Pt 1 and pt 2

4.8k words, nsfw, oral (r!receiving), face sitting, groping, confrontation, degradation, verbal consent given in a dubious consent situation, guilt on either side

Ellie was truly mortified when the screen blacked out, an error screen taking its place. She thought of every way imaginable that she could dig herself out of the grave she'd dug for herself. The camera was ripped from the wall and landed at your feet. She thought it was hidden well enough, but Ellie had underestimated the curiosity of a cat. Surely you weren't so naive that you wouldn't be able to tell what it was. Ellie didn't feel guilt for watching you, but your reaction made her uneasy. The look of fear in your eyes made her stomach twist.

Less than a minute passed before Ellie's phone vibrated in her hands, your name popping up in multiple notifications. But she wasn't ready to face the consequences, so her phone was put on "do not disturb" and placed on her desk. She slept restlessly, hardly at all in fact. Maybe she could wake up and it would all be a terrible nightmare, but she woke in the morning to a slew of texts and calls that were all too real. She feigned ignorance, choosing to read the messages without replying. The longer she played dumb, the more distressed your messages seemed.

Wednesday

10:07PM: hey i found smth in my apt and i dont rly know what it is lol. did you forget anything?

10:10PM: Missed Call

10:15PM: are you awake?

10:16PM: i looked up this thing and i think we need to talk...

10:17PM: Missed Call

10:20PM: call me when you can

Thursday

7:32AM: hey can you let me know if you have time to talk today? It's important...

7:35AM: but yeah let me know if you can talk

12:03PM: Missed Call

12:03PM: call me when you have a chance. we really need to talk about this

12:05PM: im on my lunch break so i can talk until 1

1:01PM: Ellie im not joking this is important

4:30PM: im leaving work. you at home?

4:31PM: can i stop by to talk? this isnt cool the whole ignoring me thing. I know youre on your phone all the time

4:31PM: you were active on instagram literally 10 minutes ago

Ellie knew she couldn't avoid you forever. She couldn't just sweep this problem under the rug, she would have to move away, change her name, get a new job, maybe dye her hair. But she didn't have time for that. Ellie knew you were always home between 4:40 and 4:45PM, depending on traffic. It was 4:37. She surely couldn't risk passing you on the stairwell if she tried to leave. So Ellie shut the blinds, turned off the lights, and hunkered down on the couch.

Steps click-clacked up the concrete stairwell, passing Ellie's door and up to your apartment, slamming the door behind you. Your steps were heavy above Ellie as they circled your apartment and back out the front door. The door slamming behind you made Ellie jump, each step shaking her to the core. Why was she so afraid?

You pounded on her door with your closed fist. Ellie tiptoed to the door to look through the peephole. You were rightfully upset, made obvious by your crossed arms and sour grimace. You were still dressed for work, clomping down the stairs in your work shoes and skirt, a silk scarf wrapped around your neck. In your hand was a familiar black object dangling from a chunky cord. She observed you for a moment, hoping that you would just assume she wasn't home.

"I know you're in there, Ellie! You're not fooling anyone! Your shitbox car is in the parking lot." Your patience was quickly waning, your blows to the door causing it to rattle in its frame, "come on, Ellie! You either talk to me or you talk to the cops, you pervert!" you practically screamed.

Ellie balked at your tone and volume. If she could hear you loud and clear, then so would the neighbors. So Ellie unlocked the deadbolt and opened the door just enough that you could see her face, "will you keep your voice down?" she whispered.

You sized her up, her lithe frame blocking entrance to the apartment. "If you stop playing stupid and let me in then I'll consider it."

Ellie peeked back inside at her messy apartment, knowing that your stolen things were hidden in the room. Her expression was nervous, puppy dog eyes on you as though she were begging you to say otherwise. "I'm not kidding," you state while pulling your phone from the pocket of your skirt, "I can just turn right around and bring this to the police station." Panic washed over Ellie as you turned as if to leave. She grasped your forearm to pull you inside hastily. Once you'd gotten your bearings, you ripped your arm from Ellie's tight grip.

Ellie wiped her clammy hands on her sweats, sitting down on the couch to make her best attempt at looking casual. She wasn't able to hold eye contact per your angry expression, asking nervously, "so what's up?"

Your face scrunched up and you "tsk"ed, frustrated with her innocent act, "why don't you tell me?" You held the device to Ellie's face by the cord. You held it with disgust, your reaction more akin to holding a dead animal than a surveillance camera.

Ellie continued to feign confusion, "a computer charger? Did it break or something?"

"Ellie," you grit out, "stop lying to me, I'm not fucking stupid."

She had never even seen you angry, let alone this full of rage. Ellie was at a crossroads between fear and arousal. "m'not lying, I swear..." she mumbled while avoiding eye contact.

"If you're not lying then why's this 'computer charger' by a company that makes surveillance cameras? And how did it get into my apartment, pointed at my bed?" You held it closer to her and shook it as though that would refresh her memory. "I sure as hell don't remember buying it, and as far as I can recall," you pointed an accusatory finger, "you were the last person in my apartment."

Ellie was near shaking, running through a hedge maze in her mind, but there was no way out. There had to be some way she could convince you that she was better than that. That she couldn't sink that low, but that would be yet another lie. "I'd never do that to you, it must have been someone else."

You were quick to refute her, "yeah, right. I never have people over, so who else could it have been?"

Ellie had been lying point-blank through your conversation, but she couldn't help but dig at your own little white lie. "Never? What about Abby, huh?"

You paused at Ellie's outburst, seeing her eyes widen at the admission that she knew just who was coming and going from your apartment. "Abby?" you encroached on her space, "How the hell do you know Abby? I've never mentioned her once, not even to my friends."

Ellie's web of lies was falling apart. "God, Ellie, how long has this been going on?" You tried to ask, exasperated. "Just admit it!" you nearly shouted, but she was still frozen. You "tsk"ed in disappointment, "forget it, I'm going to the cops."

You turned toward the door, and Ellie panicked, her nervous system going into fight or flight. Without thinking, she sprung from the couch to stop you. "Wait!" she exclaimed as she caught you by the forearm.

You wriggled in her grasp, "let me go, Ellie!"

She managed to grab you by the other wrist, "please just let me explain!" She pleaded, desperate to retain her freedom and keep you in her life. With surprising strength for someone of her stature, Ellie wrestled you to the floor. You fought against her, attempting to shout but being stopped by Ellie's palm pressed flat against your mouth. Her other hand kept your wrists pinned to the floor as she straddled you. "Please just listen, please..." she panted from the exertion, face red from the effort and the embarrassment of the situation. "I'll admit it, I put the camera there, but that's all I swear!" Frustrated tears lined her eyes, "please, will you let me explain?"

Your eyes were wide, but you nodded your head slowly to appease her. She eyed you nervously, "and you won't scream if I pull my hand away?" You closed your eyes for a moment and sighed, attempting to relax enough for Ellie to let up. Again, you gave her a hesitant nod. She pulled her hand away slowly.

You unconsciously licked your lips, Ellie following the movement and the glistening of your tongue. Your wide eyes sparkled up at her, your hair pillowed under your head. All the reasons for her infatuation--no, obsession--rushed to the surface. She couldn't hold it in anymore, "I love you!"

You looked confused and even more scared, if that were even possible. Regardless, Ellie rambled on, desperate to earn back your trust, perhaps even your affection. "You're just so kind, and beautiful, and interesting, and funny, and so... untouchable." She seemed melancholy as she continued, "I wanted to be close to you, but I was just so nervous." She sniffled, frustrated tears lining her eyes "I didn't know what to do, so I just fucked it up instead."

A tear slid down Ellie's cheek to drop off her chin. You flinched as it hit your skin, a tangible reminder of her feelings. "Ellie?" you called to her, and she looked at you with hopeful eyes. "why didn't you just say something?"

She avoided eye contact, almost hitting herself for not just doing the obvious. "I wanted to, but my mouth just goes dry when I see you and I feel like my heart drops to my ass..." Ellie sighed, "'sides, I'm no Abby."

She looked back at you to find an expression of pity. "You're not..." you murmured, and that sinking feeling returned to her stomach, but you went on, "you wouldn't want to be like her, anyways."

You pitied Ellie, but saw some of yourself in her. The pain of unrequited love, the anxiety of waiting for their next move, the exhaustion from the chase, and the words left unsaid. Like her, you were singularly focused on someone else. You had done your own snooping, peeking at Abby's texts while she was in the shower, always regretting it because of what you'd find. But you couldn't have been this desperate or gone to such lengths.

Abby gave you tunnel vision, so you couldn't see Ellie by your side. If you hadn't been so focused on Abby, you might have noticed her lingering stares, the things around your apartment that weren't where you left them, and the missing panties.

But suddenly confronted with all she had done, why weren't you screaming? Fighting? Running? Though conflicted, you were flattered. Why was her confession strangely charming?

You were not accustomed to being wanted this intensely, surprised but not displeased at Ellie's praise. She went to such lengths just for a look, a listen, even a taste. Her desperation would be almost laughable if it didn't make you feel so valued.

To Abby, you were a toy she could pick up, use, and discard at her leisure. Every crumb of affection was a success. You would mull them over, overanalyze them for any sign that your affection was returned, or appreciated at least. Conversely, to Ellie you were a prize to be selfishly coveted. You had acclimated to Abby's coldness, so the heat of Ellie's passion nearly burned you alive.

You take a moment to collect your thoughts before sighing and attempting to bring Ellie back to center. She was overcome with emotions, all that she had been bottling up finally exploding. "It's okay, Ellie. Just let me up and we can talk, okay?"

She seemed hesitant, "you won't try anything, right?"

You smiled as sympathetically as you could manage, "promise."

She pulled away slowly, hands hovering over your wrists for a moment until she trusted that you wouldn't hit her. Instead, you sat up to rub your wrists as you both rose from the floor. Ellie watched you closely like one would a wild animal. Her studio apartment was small, so there weren't many places to run.

"I didn't know you felt that way," you mumbled, barely audible. "You could have just told me."

Ellie huffed out a humorless laugh, "if I don't say anything then I don't have to worry about getting hurt, ‘cause I’m not Abby.”

You sighed at Ellie's obvious jealousy, "Abby's no good for me anyways. Maybe I need someone different, someone like you…”

You approached Ellie slowly. Every step closer she took a step back, her legs soon meeting the edge of her bed. She had nowhere else to go, so Ellie tipped back onto the bed. She watched in awe as you straddled her, hardly believing the sight as you unraveled your scarf. You leaned over her blushing face, your lips less than an inch from hers as you whispered, "can I kiss you?"

Ellie wouldn't let this chance go to waste, omitting a response to lock her lips with yours. She let her eyes shut in bliss as she lost herself in the plushness of your lips. Your tongue was slippery and soft as it tangled with hers. Ellie felt your touch gliding up her forearms, lacing your fingers with hers on either side of her head. You sucked on her tongue, Ellie so immersed in sensation that she paid no mind to you looping your silk scarf around her wrists and pulling the loose ends tight. You sucked her lip into your mouth and let it go with a soft "pop" as you pulled away. Ellie's hazy eyes opened at the loss of your warmth, flicking up to her bound wrists before looking at you confused. She wriggled for a moment, testing the strength of her binds and laughing nervously. Her underlying anxiety clashed with arousal. She was in disbelief that you would do something like this.

"You haven't been very nice to me, Ellie," you lectured. "You took advantage of my kindness." You straddled her hips, fingers tucking under the hem of her loose gray t-shirt. You pushed it above her breasts, hands sliding across her skin to feel her tense and shiver under your touch. "I let you into my home," your hands moved to the tie of her sweatpants to unravel it, "trusted you with my cats," you ripped them halfway down her thighs, "and you betrayed that trust to fulfill some sick fucking fantasy." You pulled and snapped the band of Ellie's boxer briefs, "but you've been hiding from me." Her briefs were pulled down to join her jeans. Shirt bunched up and pants halfway down, you took in the sight of Ellie's flushed and panting form. "So I think this is only fair."

Your hands explored her torso, groping her small breasts and pinching her blush-pink nipples. She was so responsive to your touch, breath hitching and whines trapped in her throat. Her skin was hot, sweat dripping down her temple.

Her skin tingled in the wake of your touch, but there was something missing. Ellie wanted so badly to touch you. She wished she could feel the squish of your hips where you sat above her. If only she could let her hands wander, exploring every inch of you that she had wanted for so long. Your touches were so light, nails trailing along her skin teasingly. The longer you teased, the more sensitive she felt.

Ellie had been wet practically the second you burst into her apartment. It didn't take much for you to turn her on. Her core glistened between her parted legs, clit swollen and throbbing in need. "You're so wet... and just from a little groping?" You traced a pointed nail from her sternum to her navel, a light pink scratch raising in its path. "You really are a pervert, aren't you?"

She felt a hot shame at being called such a thing, but you were right. Ellie didn't have a stitch of clothing to hide behind, feeling exposed and vulnerable beneath you. You groped and scratched at her thighs, laying a kiss on one of them with sparkling eyes looking at you. She was thrilled to be the center of your attention, but she yearned for so much more.

You could sense her impatience, "don't be so shy. Tell me what you want." You continued your teasing touches, never coming within an inch of her hot center.

"Please touch me..." Ellie whimpered.

You giggled, "I am touching you, silly."

Ellie groaned in frustration as you barely grazed her pussy with the tip of her finger. Wetness clung to your finger that you stuck into your mouth to suck off. Ellie could hardly believe her eyes. The bare graze against her pussy forced a choked noise from her chest. She whimpered in its absence. Just a taste of pleasure had her hungry for more.

Your grin never slipped, seeing Ellie helpless beneath you unfamiliar but exhilarating. Ellie whined out, "my pussy, please. I'm aching for you."

You couldn't help the grin on your face. Your sick enjoyment at Ellie laying helpless beneath you was an entirely unfamiliar feeling. She writhed against her bonds, pent up and unable to do anything about it. "I won't leave you waiting any longer, don't worry," you cooed.

You pressed your hand to her pussy, the heel of your palm to her clit and fingers sliding down the length of her folds. She groaned from deep in her chest when you ground your palm against her. It was directionless, sloppily spreading Ellie's wetness onto her lips and thighs. Ellie bucked messily against your hand. "Yeahh, that's right," you laughed, "just needed me to touch your greedy little pussy?"

Ellie whined at the mockery, "yes, yes, please. Just need to feel you. Do whatever you want to me, just need you!"

She was insatiable, greedy for anything and everything you could give her. "Whatever I want?" you repeat back to her.

"Anything!" she blurts out, blown out pupils locked on yours. You almost chuckled at her desperation, but you couldn't deny the butterflies in your stomach.

Ellie cried out at the retreat of your hand. Brought back to reality, she was gifted with the sight of you rising to your knees and shuffling forward to straddle her chest. You caressed her cheek and she melted into the palm of your hand. "Ellie," you cooed at her, "you'll help me feel good now, won't you?" You stroked her cheek with your thumb gently, "it's only fair, right? You've been stealing from me all this time, so I think you owe me, yeah?"

Ellie's eyes darted between your rising skirt to your teasing expression. She could smell the sweet musk of your pussy from here. She knew it well, having huffed it like paint from your stolen panties time and time again. Given the opportunity to taste and smell it from the source, Ellie just might have died and gone to heaven. Or maybe you'd knocked her out and she was dreaming. "Yes, yes, please. I can make you feel so good, promise. I'll make it up to you."

You hummed at her, pretending to mull it over, "you sure you really want it?"

Ellie's enthusiasm outweighed her shame. "I want it so bad, please! I wanna taste it, feel it drip down my chin. I want you to sit on my face so bad, I don't even care if I can't breathe." So you gave into her pleas, scooting forward on your knees to hover over Ellie's face. Slack-jawed and panting like a dog, Ellie's face disappeared under the hem of your skirt.

Your wet panties were a teasing reminder of the copious amounts Ellie had stolen. She grunted as she extended her neck to lick at your panties. You carefully lowered yourself to be within her reach. The cotton of your panties was rough against Ellie's tongue. Your slick made a dark patch on the fabric, the shape of your folds visible as it clung to your wet skin. She lapped at you through the panties, tasting and sucking the wetness that had once saturated the cloth. Your breathing picked up at the pressure, the friction of your panties against your clit rough.

But the fabric barred Ellie from tasting you fully. You couldn't feel the suction of her lips or the softness of her tongue. The cotton weave was rubbing you raw. Ellie whined, and you could feel the hum of her voice against you as she tried to speak trapped against you. You shifted, pulling up your skirt to see Ellie's red face. Her glistening lips parted to speak, "off... take 'em off, please..."

You snickered, "thought you liked my panties. You took so many of them after all. Did you suck on them just like that, too?"

Unashamed, she admitted, "yes, just wanna taste it. Only took 'em 'cause I couldn't get the real thing."

You were leaking like a faucet, and her tongue through your panties wasn't enough to satisfy. You pulled the crotch of them aside to tuck into the crease of your thigh, exposing yourself to Ellie's hungry gaze. She chased your hips, nearly moaning at the taste as you shifted downward again. Ellie laved your folds with her tongue. Uninhibited, you were so much sweeter. You dripped sticky like syrup on her tongue that she swallowed greedily. For a moment, she was too lost in her own selfish desires to realize that she was teasing you. You whined aloud at each gentle lap, jolting each time she grazed your clit. She tongued at your hole to greedily slurp down your slick.

Through a pussy-drunk haze, she watched your pleasured expressions in awe. Your needy grinding against Ellie's face pulled her from her reverie. She recognized your intent and doubled her efforts. Her tongue swirled around your clit, the hardened bud throbbing at the attention. When she puckered her lips and sucked on your clit, your back bowed and you moaned gutterally. Trapped between her lips, she rapidly flicked the tip of her tongue against your clit. The sudden lashing of her tongue had your hips bucking away from the sensation. Ellie's lips were pulled away with a "pop," the release of suction causing you to flinch again. "Haa-ah, Ellie..." you panted.

Hearing you moan her name was like ecstacy. Ellie's tongue slid down your lips, circling your entrance with its tip. She felt your muscles contract against the pressure. The tip of her tongue penetrated you, and you mewled at the feeling, stomach tensing and thighs clenching against Ellie's ears. Though muffled, Ellie could hear you beg for more. You cried out for her not to stop, and she had no intentions to. She pressed her face into you, pushing her tongue as deep into your pussy as she could. Ellie's nose was pressed against your clit, her mouth wide open to keep her tongue stuck out for you. What truly sent you into overdrive was her shaking her head side to side while pressed against you. The bridge of her nose flicked back and forth against your clit as Ellie tongued your hole. Nose against your clit and mouth focused on your hole, Ellie could hardly breathe. She would run out of air, having to take breaks to gasp for air. She panted like a dog as she lapped at your clit, unwilling to let up on you even as she struggled for air. But it was worth it for the sight, sound, smell, and especially taste of you. Your voice was like a melody that Ellie wanted to play on repeat. It was pitchy, staccato, approaching a crescendo. Ellie felt your pussy flexing around the tip of her tongue, warning her of your oncoming orgasm. Your hand tangled into her auburn locks, gripping and pulling as you squealed out that you were coming. Ellie huffed air through her nose as she drank you in. She continued passionately kissing your pussy, lips and tongue edging you into overstimulation. Ellie tried to follow you as you lifted yourself up on your knees, but no matter how much she strained against her binds, she couldn't reach you. She had nearly forgotten about her binds.

It might have been the lack of air and the sudden rush of oxygen to her brain, but Ellie was practically floating. Her body was pleasantly warm, tingling from head to toe. She was soaked down to the collar of her shirt, the gray fabric clearly darker than the rest. Your wetness was drying tacky on her cheeks, flyaway hairs clinging to them.

You were at a loss for words. Absent-mindedly, you catch a dribble down the corner of her mouth with your thumb, wiping it up and pressing it to Ellie's swollen, pink lips. Obediently, Ellie pulled your thumb into her mouth to suck gently. Your breath hitched and you laughed breathily at the display. You were in disbelief that a gem like Ellie had been watching and waiting for you, hoping that you would notice her.

You sighed and leaned up to untie Ellie from her headboard. She was still dazed from the dream she just lived through. She admired you silently, peacefully.

Coming down from your orgasm, you were confronted with the reality of your actions. You had lowered yourself to Ellie's level, blackmailing her and using it to take advantage of her. But how was it different from what Ellie had done to you? You committed a crime, a felony even. Free from her binds, Ellie could easily call the police on you just as you had threatened mere minutes earlier. But she didn't.

She only rubbed at the raised pink lines on her wrists, sure to bruise later. Ellie still looked up at you with awe, as though you were an angel. Her hands moved slowly to your hips, caressing the smooth, dimpled skin of your thighs and squeezing at its softness. Her hands were cold, veins spider-webbing from palm to forearm and fingertips calloused from guitar strings.

She looked contemplative as she tucked the end of your skirt into the waistband, admiring the mess she had made of you. "Can I do it again?" Ellie murmurs, gaze flickering between you and your pussy. You were unsure how she could have this much stamina. Bottom lip caught between your teeth, you nodded. Ellie smiled, relieved, and pulled you down to her mouth with surprising strength.

Each orgasm bled into another as Ellie held you trapped above her. Long, thin fingers gripped your hips and thighs so tight that the flesh bulged between the pale digits. You cried for mercy, for her to be more gentle, but your cries fell on deaf ears. If anything, they only worked her up even more.

Your thighs trembled on either side of her head where they clamped on Ellie's ears like earmuffs. She had to indulge. It was all she ever wanted. She worked hard for this.

She only relented when you pulled on her hair hard, the grip tight enough to make her wince. You found the strength to rise on your knees, only to fall onto the bed, exhausted. Ellie wiped you down and soothed you to sleep. She covered you with a blanket, rubbed at your aching muscles and cooed praise in your ear until you fell into a peaceful slumber.

Ellie watched you rest, a quiet snore coming from your parted lips. You were splayed out on your stomach, legs slightly parted and one knee bent. Stood at the end of the bed, Ellie could see your folds peeking out from between your thighs. It was obviously swollen and flushed from all you had endured. She had gone at you so long you might have thought you had a rugburn on your pussy. Ellie had wiped you down earlier, but a line of slick still drooled from your pussy. It glistened in the low light of Ellie's room, shining in her eyes like a spotlight.

She plucked your phone from your discarded purse. The face ID rejected her, of course, so Ellie turned it toward your sleeping visage and watched as the phone unlocked with ease. She held back her impulse to snoop. To look in every nook and cranny of the device. But she had a mission to complete. Scrolling through the contacts, Ellie found Abby within seconds. On her own phone, Ellie opened the camera app, aiming the lens at your parted thighs and the clear aftermath of her attention. With a "click" of the camera lens and a few taps of her fingers, it was sent.

9:52PM: image attached

9:52PM: she’s mine

Thank you for reading my silly little stories! This turned out so much longer than I thought, but I’ve had a lot of fun with this little “series” so it was fun

Taglist: @kaykeryyy @cattjull @s0phi3w4lt3n @verseandchapterr

[sometimesanalice]

Oh I adore getting your reblogs! It's always so fun getting to read someone's thoughts about things! But I'm also so happy that you enjoyed this one!

more for you!

Many thoughts...

He’s never been able to resist a bad girl wrapped up like the girl-next-door.

I can 100% see that-- that man never stood a chance! he likes to play the game, especially when the girl he's interested in is leading the way 🤭

He knew how good his biceps looked in the short sleeves of his uniform. And the way his pants clung to his legs and ass. He’d been spending a lot of his free time in the gym lately and it showed.

Yeah, let's show it off 😌-- he's such a slut (affectionate)! but if you ask him he'd just say he's a feminist and doing it for the female gaze, lmao

 He wanted that smile turned on him. Wanted to see if the look in your bright eyes would be just as playful with your gaze pinned on him instead. He wanted to be the one making you laugh.

A man on a mission-- my favorite little attention whore

It’s not like he’s going to go over there and lick your face like a kid might try and claim dibs on a cupcake.

Lmao that would be funny though 😅-- maybe next time, lmaooo. but also he knows what he's bringing to the able and backs himself all the way, he's not afraid of a little competition (not that there is any, haha)

Bradley’s never been one to shy away from making an entrance.

Oh, we all know 😅-- the cockwalk alone deserved an oscar

“Well, shucks,” you say with an over exaggerated shrug. “What about if I said I was roped into waking up at an ungodly hour to catch a flight up here because my best friend’s boyfriend is a Naval aviator and she wanted me to keep her company for the ‘casual five-hour cruise’, as you called it.” “Now that I believe,” he drawled. “So, what’s his name?” “Well, she calls him Jacob. He has one of those silly callsigns too, but I always forget it,” you scrunch your nose adorably as you search for it, “Something-man.” “You mean Bagman?” “Yeah, that sounds right.”

A woman teasing Jake? Bradley is probably thinking about proposing right then and there😅-- the easiest way to win over bradley bradshaw is to dunk on jake at any given opportunity, lol

“A private tour? Lucky me,” you purr. “Lead the way Lieutenant Commander Bradley Rooster Bradshaw.” You knew what you were doing, he’d give you that. And he was eating it up with a spoon ready to ask for second, third, and fourth helpings. 

😌🤭😌🤭-- she's got him soooo wrapped around her finger, and good for her it's what she deserves!

And he knows he shouldn’t, that he could get in some big trouble for showing you areas that weren’t explicitly on the official list of tour stops. But he’s always been more of the apologize later type. Plus, he hasn’t been on this ship for very long, it’s not his fault if he manages to get conveniently turned around.

Definitely not his fault 🤷🏻‍♀️😅-- he's innocent your honor!

You reach up and run a playful finger along the brim of his cap, “So what’s a girl got to do to get a turn wearing the hat?” His mind flashes with images of the last time he’d let a woman wear it. “I’ll have you know this is technically Naval property, they don’t let just anyone have one. You usually have to earn it. But for you?” he pauses and gives you a heated once over, “I’ll let you try it on for free.”

His hat has probably been worn by multiple women before 🤭-- that hat has definitely seen some action that's for sure, lmao. and who he is who deny anyone who wants to try it on for size 🤭

He likes that you want to know these details about his job, he likes that he gets to share this with you. Even if the clock is ticking down before he has to get back on deck.

That's so cute 😍-- he doesn't often get to share this side of things so indepthly with anyone, he's definitely not missing his moment here!

“It represents strong ties, baby. It’s a symbol for the supportive partners and wives of those serving onboard,” he whispers low and sweet into your ear. “Bradley,” you sigh as you turn your head towards him for a kiss. It’s desperate and wet. And he can almost taste the neediness of your moan on his tongue. He’s never done anything like this while on duty on a ship before, and the thrill of it has his veins thrumming with adrenaline.

There always has to be a first time 😌-- the man likes to live on the edge! the adrenaline rush of it all! plus everyone else is busy, and it is called the ready room after all haha

“You’ve had me hook, line and sinker since the damn second I saw you.” He grinds himself against your ass and you whimper at the contact. “What do you want from me? I’ll be so good to you, so good for you.” “Fuck me.” He can feel his pulse thundering in his throat. “I’m trying to,” you whine.

Oh I bet he does 🤭🤤-- we all know that man doesn't half ass anything and we thank him for his service!

And he’ll sure as shit never be able to be in a Ready Room again without getting a hard-on. The memory of you bent over the table before him will forever be ingrained in his brain.

🤭🤭🤭-- she's definitely made a lasting impression on him!

“I see you found your gift early, baby.”

Ahhhh omg-- i love a good twist!! and this one is one of my favorites!! 🤭🤭🤭

Bradley would never forget the first time he saw you that night at the bar downtown last year during Fleet Week. He had noticed you right away, it had been impossible not to. You and your girlfriends had been all done up in hot pink outfits for the Bachelorette party you were out celebrating. Your friend had flounced right up to Jake taking the shot of whiskey out of his hand before swallowing it down then cheekily offering to buy him a replacement. Hangman had been wrapped around her finger ever since.

Love that they both met each other's partners on the same night out 😅-- i ended up writing about the night they met! if you ever want to read it it's called "wildest dreams"! it's another cheeky and fun one, but I loved getting to explore just what happened the night they met!

He could never be mad at you, especially not with his necklace around your neck. You were his, and he was so gone for you. “It looks so pretty on you,” he tells you softly as his fingers brush over your collarbones.

Oh he is so in love🥰-- he's so down bad!

“Oh my god, Rooster, I can’t we defiled Naval property.” You giggle as you wrap your legs around him to pull him closer to circle your arms around his neck. “I hate to break it to you, but you’ve been defiling Naval property ever since you brought me home with you the night we met.”

^^ the most perfect gif in existence, lmao. they're both go getters ahahahaha

You take that cap off of your head and set it back on his, and lean in to kiss him on the cheek, “Glad I’m getting a good return on my taxes then.” 

Facts 🤷🏻‍♀️-- i wouldn't mind getting a return on my taxes this way, just saying... lol

“Maybe it has a little something to do with the man in the uniform,” you make a little hum as you check him out. “You’re so tan, Bradley, have you been using the sunscreen I sent with you-”

Wear that SPF!!-- my fav hc is that he's always getting sunburnt because he just doesn't have the patience to put it on.

When you’re both back on the open flight deck he walks you over to the railing along the edge of the ship and wraps you up in his arms to watch the coastline crawl by with his last few moments of freedom. 

Ahh I loved all of this so much 🥰-- i'm so happy you liked it!! thank you for reading!!

Hey, Sailor

Summary: It’s Fleet Week and Rooster would rather be anywhere else than on the flight deck of the USS Portland. That is, until a pretty thing in a sundress catches his eye and then suddenly his day is looking up. 

Pairing: Bradley”Rooster” Bradshaw x Female Reader

Length: 5.8K

Warnings: Flirty Banter, Smut, and Bradley Bradshaw in Summer Whites (Minors DNI)

Note: When @roosterforme​ asks you to write her a Fleet Week fic, you write the Fleet Week fic! Here you go, Em!  💛

Normally, Rooster loved Fleet Week.

He loved the lively atmosphere and the parades. He loved the free drinks that were handed to him as soon as he entered a bar. And he especially loved all the attention he got from women when he wore his Summer Whites.

He usually came back to the ship looking less than pristine with lipstick on the collar of his uniform and hidden on other places on his body.

The USS Portland was teaming with excited families and camera-happy civilians taking in the sights from deck of the transport ship as they settled in for the five-hour journey to the San Diego. It was a Fleet Week tradition to welcome people aboard for an immersive experience, picking them up from a port further up North and then cruising along the coast before making their final docking for the week.

There were grills set up on the deck and the smell of flame kissed hamburgers and hotdogs mixed with the sea salt air. The sun was shining and the mood was light.

But this year, Rooster simply could not be bothered to give a fuck.

Keep reading

[katebishopsbaefy]

No Thinking

billie eilish x reader

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

summary: you break a "rule" and billie deals with you.

warnings: basically pure smut, mean!billie, dumbification, teasing, overstimulation, pussy slaps, crying

words: 1163

a/n: katebishopsbaefy posting three times in one week?? unheard of💩 but i've had an ear infection all week so i've had lots of time to write!! i also have a few asks, so those'll hopefully get done soon. please keep sending them they're so much fun!! also billie's haircut looks so good?? i don't understand why we're all hating???

Billie's been away for the past few weeks, out on her tour with her friends. Of course, you’ve loved seeing her so happy and excited to be on the road for once, but that doesn’t mean you hadn’t missed her terribly. You’d been so lonely all alone in the big house, and all of those photos and videos in your hidden folder had just been too tempting; you couldn’t resist.

You and Billie had made a half-assed agreement a while ago about not touching yourselves when the other was away. It wasn’t really meant to be a real rule; it was just something you’d seen on some porn website, and you thought it might be fun to try.

You definitely hadn’t thought it all the way through.

When she came home, just a little over two hours ago, things had gotten heated between you so quickly. Her lips were all over your mouth, your neck, your chest, anywhere she could reach. 

“God, I missed you s’much” she mumbled against your cleavage as she sucked a dark purple bruise into the soft skin. You tugged on her dark hair, and whatever response you’d been about to mutter quickly turned into a gasp when you felt her start to swirl her tongue around your nipple, and then suck sharply. She must’ve really missed you.

She’d settled you on the bed, all fluffed up with blankets and pillows. She might’ve missed you, she might’ve wanted you so bad she could’ve burst, but she’d always make sure you’re comfortable first. You'd kissed for a while until she’d gotten too impatient to wait, so she kissed her way down your body, between your breasts, across your stomach, ending with some soft sucks to your thighs. She gently pushed them open, and mumbled against them, “You been good f’me?”

You understood exactly what she meant. No, you haven’t been good for her. It was just so hard, having no one to touch you for weeks. You had to do it yourself…but all you’ve ever wanted was to be good for her, so you nodded your head, your mumbled words coming out more slurred and sloppy than hers, “Mhm. Been good, promise.”

But when she’d feel the slight resistance of you trying to keep your legs shut, you knew you’d been caught. “C’mon, babygirl… lemme see,” she murmured in that soft, but patronizing tone that always had you stuttering and blushing. And of course, you folded.

Her hands slowly pushed your thighs apart, revealing your soaking wet heat. Her eyes had visibly darkened, her finger traced up and down your slit. It was like she’d forgotten that she was teasing you for a moment, so entranced by you, so unable to keep her hands off of you. An audibly shaky breath would pull her back to reality.

She’d slowly pushed a finger in you as her eyes met yours, and you’d immediately recognized that look on her face. She’d seen right through your lie. She’d be able to feel it.

“Aw, baby…”, she murmured in that tone, the one that made it feel like she was talking down to you (which she was). Her finger gently felt around, enough to make you clench, but she’d still been able to tell what you’d done. “Feels like you’ve been touchin’ yourself… have you? You been stretchin’ out your needy little hole while I was gone?”

 Your head was nodding along before you even realized what was happening. It’s just the way she talks to you, like she’s poking fun. It folds you right in half.

Billie softly clicked her tongue at you, and the tears sprang into your eyes when her finger traveled to your clit. She’d gotten you right where she wanted you; so overwhelmed you can't even think. And it’d only been a few minutes of teasing.

“You know the rules. Couldn’t’ve waited a few days f’me to get back? You’re that needy?” she teased, and you whined, already slipping into that headspace she loves to put you in where all you can do is feel. 

When her finger started to trace circles into your clit, you whined again and gazed up at her with dark, tearful eyes. “I-I’m sor-”, you started, but she cut you off with a sharp slap to your cunt. One physical act of humiliation among a sea of verbal jabs. You whimpered and jolted like usual, immediately closing your mouth.

“Nuh uh, no thinkin’, baby. Too dumb f’that right now. Just needa have your pussy fixed…”, she mumbled so sweetly, so cruelly, and you shivered at the implication. She was going to make you come until you were tight again.

She rubbed your clit until you were shaking and crying, making you finish one, two, three times. Making you finish until she was satisfied.

And now, after what’s felt like hours of abuse on your clit, she’s finally decided to move on.

She pulls her finger away, and gently taps your nub with it, just to watch your legs twitch. To make sure you're sensitive enough. Her finger finds its way back down to your hole, gently pushing into you in a way that makes you tense and whimper. And she grins that stupid, cheesy, lopsided grin that makes your stomach flip. She looks so sweet, but so mean.

Her fingers wrap around yours, leading your hand down your body until she’s separating your middle and ring finger from the rest. Before you even know what's happening, she’s guiding your two fingers into your pussy, and a matching pair of her fingers are holding the back of yours to force them against that spot that makes you see stars. Of course, you whine and squirm, much too overwhelmed and overstimulated to have four fingers pressed into you. You’re too tight to be so full. But, of course, she holds you down.

“Mmm… now you’re all nice ‘nd tight again. Feel it, babygirl?”, she teases, her voice dripping with soft cruelty as she fucks your fingers into you. When you don’t respond, she takes her thumb and grinds it against your swollen clit, hard enough to make you jolt and scream. Eyes fly open and fill with a fresh set of tears as you nod at her. Your chest rises and falls heavily with each breath, your hair is all messy from so much squirming, your red eyes brim with tears, and the sight just makes her groan. 

“Think we gotta stretch you out again, mama,” she murmurs, her lips finding their way to your cheek to kiss away your tears. It’s so sickly sweet compared to the way she’s started to pound into you. You hadn’t even realized, but she’d pulled your fingers out and replaced them with all four of her own, intent on making you scream and cry until you passed out. And after just a few more rounds, she succeeds.

Maybe you should’ve thought twice about making that dumb rule with her.

[goldfades]

HOTTEST COUPLE IN THE ROOM ───JB⁹

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 2.5k

⟢ ┈ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | requested! -> "Joe x Dallas cowboy cheerleader reader"

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | reader is kinda perceived as bitchy, and not a cookie-cutter dcc. lots of a banter, leads to relationship.

⟢ ┈ 𝐞𝐯'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 | my new fav thing EVER

The bass shakes the floor beneath your heels, the scent of top-shelf liquor and expensive cologne thick in the air. The postgame party is exactly what you expected—too many people, too much noise, and a lingering sense of competition that doesn’t quite fade even after the game’s final whistle. Cowboys and Bengals players mix like oil and water, good-natured jabs tossed between sips of whiskey, the occasional laugh laced with something sharper.

You don’t want to be here.

But when the Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders make an appearance, it’s not optional. It’s PR. It’s “team camaraderie.” It’s smiling through gritted teeth while some dude in a suit with more money than personality tells you how impressive it is that you can do a perfect high kick in full glam.

You adjust the hem of your dress, shifting against the leather couch tucked in the VIP section. It’s not that you’re bad at playing the part. You just don’t fit the mold the way you’re supposed to. The other girls—prim, polished, always camera-ready—glide through the room like they were born for this. You, on the other hand, are already toeing the line of “too much.” Too opinionated, too unpredictable, too unwilling to be anything other than exactly who you are.

And yet, you’re still here. Because when you dance, they shut up about the rest.

“Didn’t think you’d actually show,” a voice drawls beside you, cutting through the music.

Your gaze shifts, locking onto the last person you expected to seek you out tonight. Joe Burrow.

His suit jacket is slung over his arm, the sleeves of his crisp white button-down rolled up just enough to give him that effortlessly put-together look. He’s got that half-smirk that’s made him a social media obsession, and yet there’s something else in his expression—curiosity, maybe. Amusement.

You raise a brow. “Didn’t think you knew who I was.”

“Oh, I know who you are.” His eyes flicker, something sharp and knowing in them. “Hard to miss the cheerleader who doesn’t play by the rules.”

You tilt your head, feigning offense. “I play by the rules.”

Joe huffs a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “Nah. You don’t. You just make it look like you do.”

And there it is. The first crack in the game, the unspoken understanding settling between you like a drawn line in the sand.

It should be nothing.

But somehow, it doesn’t feel like nothing.

You lean back against the couch, one arm draped lazily over the backrest, the other toying with the rim of the drink you don’t actually want. The ice clinks softly as you swirl it, eyes flicking back to Joe, unimpressed but not entirely disinterested.

“Wow,” you deadpan. “Joe Burrow knows my reputation. I guess I can retire now.”

Joe huffs a quiet laugh, the kind that barely shakes his shoulders. “Just saying, you don’t blend in.”

You lift a brow. “Neither do you.”

His smirk deepens, just a little. “Difference is, I’m supposed to stand out.”

You roll your eyes. “God, you’re worse than I thought.”

Joe blinks, feigning offense. “Worse?”

“Yeah.” You tilt your head, taking him in. “I figured you’d at least let me get a word in before pulling the ‘I’m Joe Burrow’ card.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to.”

The smirk on his face falters just a fraction, like he’s recalculating his approach. He came over here thinking he’d charm you with minimal effort, just like he probably does with every other girl in this room. You can’t blame him. You’re used to guys like him—ones who assume that a few smooth lines and a good jawline will be enough to win you over. It’s exhausting, really.

Joe, to his credit, seems to pick up on it quickly. He shifts his stance, dropping the easy arrogance just a notch, watching you like he’s trying to figure out a new play mid-game.

“So, you don’t like football players,” he guesses.

“I never said that.”

“You don’t seem impressed.”

“I’m just not easily impressed.”

Joe clicks his tongue, shaking his head like he’s been personally challenged. “Tough crowd.”

You let out a short laugh, finally taking a sip of your drink. The warmth spreads through you, smoothing the edges of your already sharp tongue. “Look, I get it. You’re Joe Cool, media darling, golden boy, future Hall of Famer, blah, blah, blah. But none of that tells me who you actually are.”

Joe’s quiet for a beat, like he wasn’t expecting you to cut through the bullshit so quickly. Most people don’t.

He studies you. “You wanna know who I am?”

“I wanna know if you can hold a conversation that doesn’t involve your highlight reel.”

Joe grins, shaking his head like you’re more trouble than he bargained for—but not the kind he wants to walk away from.

“Alright,” he says, leaning in slightly. “Let’s make it fair. Since you’re so uninterested in my career, how about I ask about yours?”

You narrow your eyes. “Go for it.”

He tilts his head. “You always wanted to be a cheerleader?”

You pause for a fraction of a second. It’s not a bad question, but it’s not the usual small talk either. It’s got an edge to it, like he’s actually curious.

“No,” you admit. “I wanted to be an astronaut.”

Joe snorts. “Serious?”

“As a heart attack.” You smirk. “But apparently, NASA frowns upon people who talk back to their instructors.”

Joe laughs now, really laughs, and it does something to his face—makes it lighter, less perfectly put-together. It’s a nice look on him.

“So, you settled for the next most intense program?” he asks.

“Something like that.” You glance around the room, at the Cowboys players, the other cheerleaders, the high-profile guests all schmoozing and clinking glasses. “DCC is its own version of NASA. Just with more hairspray and stricter calorie counts.”

Joe hums, considering that. “And yet, you don’t seem the type to take orders.”

You shrug. “I don’t. But I’m really, really good at what I do.”

His gaze lingers for half a second too long. “Yeah,” he says, low and thoughtful. “I bet you are.”

There’s something about the way he says it that makes your breath catch for just a second—not because you’re flustered, but because it feels like he actually sees you, past the sequins and forced smiles and PR obligations.

You tap your nails against your glass, breaking whatever was starting to settle between you. “Well, congrats,” you say, all light and teasing again. “You managed to hold a conversation without bringing up your own stats.”

Joe grins, lazy and triumphant. “And?”

You take a slow sip, watching him over the rim of your glass. “You’re not completely insufferable.”

Joe laughs, leaning back into the couch. “I’ll take it.”

The first date wasn’t supposed to happen.

At least, not in your mind.

But Joe had this way of slipping through the cracks of your carefully built walls, catching you off guard in a way that wasn’t annoying, but intriguing. So, when he had looked at you across that crowded party and said, “One drink. No football talk,” you had rolled your eyes, but ultimately, you had agreed.

One drink turned into three. A post-midnight drive through downtown. A completely ridiculous bet over who could name more obscure 90s songs (you won, obviously). And then, somehow, a second date.

And that was the real surprise.

Because by then, you figured you had him pegged. Star quarterback, smooth operator, probably used to women falling over themselves to impress him. But the Joe you saw away from the cameras, when it was just the two of you in a dimly lit hole-in-the-wall bar or sprawled out on his couch, eating takeout straight from the boxes, was different. He was easy in a way that felt familiar, like a song you hadn’t heard in years but still knew all the words to.

And he got you.

Most guys would tense up when you made some sarcastic comment, unsure if they should be amused or offended. Joe just smirked and shot one right back, quick and sharp like one of his passes. The banter was effortless, the chemistry undeniable, but it never felt forced.

It felt like you’d known him forever.

Which was dangerous.

Because you weren’t supposed to like him this much.

But a few months flew by before you could think too hard about it.

One minute, you were rolling your eyes at him in a Dallas bar. The next, you were sneaking glances at your phone in the middle of DCC rehearsals, trying not to smile at whatever nonsense he had just texted you.

Then came the flights.

You found yourself booking tickets to Cincinnati more often than you’d ever expected, trading in your Texas sunsets for the sharp chill of Ohio air, showing up in his city like you belonged there. And the crazy part? It never felt inconvenient. You had never been the type to rearrange your schedule for a guy, but with Joe, it was different. He made the effort too—catching flights to see you between games, showing up unannounced just to grab dinner, like it was the most normal thing in the world.

It should’ve been overwhelming, but it wasn’t.

Because nothing about Joe was ever boring.

You’d expected the excitement in the beginning—the flirty back-and-forth, the teasing, the lingering looks that stretched longer than they should. But what you hadn’t expected was the way he made everything feel lighter. How he made you laugh when you were dead on your feet after an exhausting game day. How he somehow always knew when you needed to talk and when you just needed to sit in comfortable silence.

And yeah, the tension was there. Always.

You weren’t blind, and Joe sure as hell wasn’t either. There were moments—when his hand lingered on your lower back a second too long, when you caught him watching you with that unreadable expression, when he pulled you into a hug that felt like it meant something more.

But neither of you pushed it. Not yet.

For now, it was enough to just exist in whatever this was.

And, for the first time in a long time, you weren’t in any rush to define it.

The New York City skyline stretched high above the venue, lights twinkling like they were in on the secret that tonight was something different.

Joe didn’t hide you.

He hadn’t from the start, really, but there was a difference between showing up for each other in private and standing next to him now, his hand resting low on your back, his fingers pressing into the fabric of your dress like he wanted everyone to see exactly where you belonged.

And you?

You looked good enough to ruin a man’s career.

Your dress was the kind that turned heads—sleek, with just enough edge to remind people that you weren’t the typical quarterback’s girlfriend. Joe wasn’t intimidated by it, wasn’t the type to shrink when his girl demanded attention. No, if anything, he was thriving on it. Walking into the party with you on his arm, chin high, like he knew for a fact that you were the hottest couple in the room.

And you were.

It didn’t matter that the place was full of some of the most famous athletes in the league, that models and influencers and A-listers milled around with expensive drinks in hand—no one looked as good as the two of you together.

Joe left you only once, leaning down to murmur, “Gonna get us a drink, don’t go too far.”

You weren’t worried about being left alone. You’d been in these rooms before, could handle yourself just fine.

But apparently, someone didn’t get the memo.

The moment Joe was out of earshot, a presence settled beside you—too close, too confident.

“Damn, haven’t seen you in a minute.”

You already knew you were going to hate him before you even looked.

And sure enough, when you turned, there he was. A Cowboys player, one you’d interacted with just enough to know he was exactly the type you had no patience for. Cocky in a way that wasn’t charming, self-important in a way that made your skin itch.

You barely had time to open your mouth before he bulldozed on.

“So, what, you finally got tired of playing in the kiddie pool and upgraded?” He grinned, not even waiting for you to respond. “Figured it was only a matter of time. The whole ‘untouchable cheerleader’ thing was getting old.”

You smiled. Smirked, really. Because this? This was amusing.

He thought you were flustered. Thought you were scrambling for a way out.

Like you hadn’t been shutting down men like him since the first time you ever put on that DCC uniform.

“Oh, yeah,” you said, voice smooth as silk. “Joe’s an upgrade, alright.” You tilted your head, eyes dragging over him in an exaggerated once-over. “But considering what I was working with before, it really didn’t take much.”

His smile flickered, but he was too stubborn to let it go. “C’mon, you don’t have to pretend with me. I know you, remember? Back when you were just another Dallas girl trying to play hard to get?”

You actually laughed at that.

Not a fake, polite one. A real one. Because this was just sad.

“Wow,” you mused. “I’ve gotta give it to you, you commit to the bit. Most guys would’ve tapped out by now, but you? You’re still going. That’s dedication.”

His jaw tensed just slightly. “I’m just saying, no need to act all high and mighty. We both know you used to—”

“Used to what?”

Your voice was still sweet, still playful, but the underlying steel was there. And when you took a slow sip of your drink, watching him over the rim, it was clear you were letting him dig his own grave.

Before he could figure out how to claw his way out, a shadow loomed beside you.

Joe.

But not in the swooping, Oh no! My girl is in distress! way.

No, he was calm. Casual. Like he had all the time in the world. His presence alone was enough to shift the energy in the conversation, but you didn’t even acknowledge him yet. You wanted to see just how long it would take for the guy in front of you to realize he’d lost.

Turns out, not long.

Joe didn’t say anything, just leaned slightly against the bar, watching with mild interest. But the weight of his presence alone did something to your uninvited guest—made him shift uncomfortably, made his easy confidence crack just a little.

And that? That was satisfying.

“I was just catching up with your girl,” the Cowboy muttered, backtracking so fast you almost wanted to laugh.

Joe didn’t miss a beat. “Yeah?” He glanced at you, finally acknowledging you with a knowing smirk. “You having fun?”

You took another sip, grinning. “Oh, loads.”

The guy beside you tensed. “I was just—”

“Leaving?” you supplied helpfully.

His mouth opened. Closed. Then, without another word, he turned and disappeared into the crowd.

Joe chuckled, finally handing you the drink he had left to get. “You were having way too much fun with that.”

You shrugged, taking a sip. “Can you blame me?”

He shook his head, draping an arm lazily around your waist, pulling you in just slightly. “Guess not.”

And the night went on.

Just you and Joe. The hottest couple in the room.

[omgfangirlland]

The Shadows That Nurture 3

I'm on a roll- don't expect it to last :)) but as of right now, Chapter 4 is done, Chapter 5 will be started, and I feel like each one will be longer and longer than the last- hope ch4 was just a one in a trillion thing

First || previous<< Chapter 3 >>next

Sleeping that night seemed to be a struggle on its own, nightmares plaguing your mind left and right. You’d fall asleep for 30 minutes and wake up, fall asleep for another 30 minutes and wake up again, and again, and again, giving up once you woke up at 03:33 am. No use in trying to sleep if you’re just going to wake up crying and gasping for air, heart pumping so hard you could hear the blood running through your veins.

You needed air, wanted something less stuffing than the four walls that seemed to close in around your shaking form. With bare feet, you made your way across the manor towards the garden. May as well try and do something productive.

The garden was loved and taken care of, once upon a time. The plants were dead, the trees dried beyond help, and the dirt may need to be changed as well if the roots have gone putrid and rotten, just to be sure. It’ll take years to bring the space to its glory, to how it looked in the painting, but you could feel it in your bones that it will be worth it.

Diverting your attention from the nightmares to the garden helped ease the shaking, the fear. The more you thought about the nightmares, the more you didn’t know which one scared you the most. Between relieving your mom’s death, accepting she was dead, that you’ll never see her again, that you didn’t even know where they buried her- and seeing Bruce as the one holding the gun, firing it at your mom, at you, and then laughing with glee, saying something you didn’t quite remember…  You couldn’t decide which one you hated the most.

Your eyes trailed the walls of the manor, up to the roof, and back down. You wanted to call him dad, hug him, have him come to your recitals and activities, and have him love you like Officer Gordon said he would. And yet, no matter how close he seemed to you, he was farther away than the moon. You hoped it was just your awkward self, that maybe your anxieties were putting ideas where there shouldn’t be any. Today’s breakfast only seemed to fortify said anxieties.

“When will I go back to school?” The question fell from your lips so quietly, and the silence it created made you sink into yourself. Bruce’s eyes had been glancing at you non-stop, but now they were fixated on you, non-blinking. He hummed, low and thoughtful. “You’ll be moved to online schooling. After what happened to your mom, I feel it will be safer for you to stay inside the manor for a while”

“For forever.” The shadows hissed in his ear, but Bruce simply cleared his throat, checked his watch, and left, Richard following soon after at the man’s nudging. Bruce will drive Dick to school. Your eyes remained on your plate as they left, remaining quiet for a while.

“Mama said I should make friends.” Your teary eyes met Alfred’s again as your lip trembled. “How will I make friends if I can’t go outside?” The older man’s hands were rubbing together behind his back. He felt as inexperienced as when Bruce was a toddler, as unsure of what to do as when he was with his father. That was a rare feeling for the man.

With a soft sigh and a shaky hand placed on the young kid’s shoulder, Alfred did what he did best. “I am sure you will have many opportunities to make friends, young miss.” He lied. You knew he was, and yet you held onto the hope. Bruce said it’ll only be for a while- so maybe, just maybe, in high school, you’ll have tons of friends.

You finished your plate, eyes still wet, but at least you didn’t cry. Your insistence to help Alfred was only met with a soft smile and a shake of his head, the man insisting on you enjoying the free time you have, telling you that perhaps you should go and buy some clothes, some decorations for your room.

Again, you mentioned the insanity of leaving a kid to buy whatever they wanted, but Alfred only laughed. “Can- is there a laptop I can use? Mama always let me on hers when we ordered something online. It’ll be easier for me…” You asked so softly, almost going into rambling as anxiety of sounding like a brat, like you were ungrateful for the phone, settled in.

Alfred didn’t even blink, no muscle on his face twitched as he only nodded, saying he’ll bring one to your room straight away. That was easier than expected. You were so used to your mom saying no, or bargaining with her for new shoes, and you understood- you didn’t have that much money, could barely scrap by… But the way the Waynes threw money around felt irresponsible. Does Bruce truly make that much money that he doesn’t have to worry about losing his home? What if he loses it all one day? Does he have a savings account? Your tummy didn’t feel good worrying about all that, mama always said that only adults should worry about money.

You don’t think your mom would like Bruce very much. That thought filtered through your brain for quite a while as you looked up how to take care of a garden and specific plants you wanted to see bloom. He was so cold, distant, creepy, and secretive. Your mother always dreamed of a loving man, strong but gentle. You never understood why she put up with the men she hung out with considering they were exactly like Bruce.

Alfred interrupted your musing as he knocked, opening the door only when he heard your voice. He left the laptop and its charger on the desk, and his only words were to inform you of the timetable for eating.  “But, of course, if you get hungry before then, you’re more than welcome to the kitchen, young miss.” And he left just as fast as he came, barely having the time to ask where your mother would be buried. You doubted Bruce would hold a funeral for her. Alfred just said he’ll look into it.

With a small huff, you went and plugged the charger into the wall and laptop before opening it. Bruce gave you the card to use, and if he can’t be bothered to go with you to stores, you can surely get whatever you want. He’s so rich, you can bleed him dry a bit.

In the end, you didn’t. You felt too guilty about buying clothes and things for the garden, so your desires for those shiny metallic watercolors and 360 markers were exchanged for a few sketchbooks and graphite pens. Your mother is rolling in her grave at how much you spent, you were sure, so you rationalized the guilt to simply wanting to perfect your skills before buying those fancy things.

You got the clothes a size or two bigger, just like mami did, so they’ll fit you for longer. Simple things, pajamas, socks, underwear, and a few pairs of jeans and T-shirts, things she’d buy for you since you were unsure of what you were supposed to get.

You hoped Bruce wouldn’t be too angry, he was a scary man now, and you dreaded to see him angry. On the garden side of things, you may have overindulged. From all the tools you got, to the kind of soil, to the types of flowers, to making sure you got beds for the plants. The soil outside truly looked beyond saving. But if he was okay with Richard’s desire for more gymnastics equipment, surely he'd be fine with this.

At lunch, you were informed by Alfred that Bruce and Dick won’t attend dinner. It didn’t surprise you, however, it still felt like they were avoiding you, and it still hurt. Perhaps this will be the new normal, the everyday occurrence. Maybe this was normal for them, you were sure high school and work kept them both busy… Will they ever have time for you?

Tag list: @bat1212 @trashlanternfish360 @shycreatorreview @syrooo @a-lurking-fae Forgot the tags D: my bad

[omamervt]

Ok so while yes, City of Mist is incredibly simple to play in actual practice, it does have a LOT more character management rules than most PBTAs, and the Tracking Card system is something you really have to see in practice to understand.

Plus, while it's my understanding that the divided Player Handbook and MC Toolkit clarified a handful of things that were missing or unclear in the original Tome, I was not gonna spend $70 on two books to replace my single $50 one, and besides, we had started before Knights of Payne Town crowdfunded.

So long story short, there were a handful of things that, when we started, I was unclear on how they worked, and what their limits were supposed to be, and so I, wanting to be a "Good DM" (my only other experience at that point was D&D 5E) decided, "power to the players!" and let players add as many tags as they wanted to rolls.

(legitimately, the only point in the original tome I could find that said there was a 3-power tag-limit was a play example, it wasn't in the base rules in the gameplay section! Apparently it was buried somewhere I wouldn't have thought to look, but I didn't know that until much later when I was talking about something in the Facebook group.)

I also was kinda lax about the single-scene effects of some moves, because it came up so rarely. And, on the MC side, I was so nervous about not using stuff after over-preparing scenarios for the first few sessions that I'd developed a habit of delaying stuff until the party had a chance to arrive.

For the most part, I was still able to make an engaging adventure by taking advantage of what you could do with NPCs' power tags/statuses, but then The Incident happened.

Now, there were probably some other contributing factors here. First, one of my players had recently joined a D&D table, and between that and the way I'd handled my table, he was starting to develop an attitude that I was supposed to indulge anything he wanted to do so long as he rolled a Great Success. And for reasons I still don't understand, the entire party had chosen to just straight-up ignore information one of their allies had given them, opting to spend the rest of the session trying to find some other piece of evidence to back up what he was saying, but weren't satisfied with whatever I gave them.

As written, the Investigation move in CoM says that you can ask as many questions as you have Power invested on a Great Success. So this dude dumped 6 power tags into an Investigate, and spent an hour dragging it across 3 locations, upset I wasn't giving him the answers he wanted, but not telling me what he wanted to learn beyond "what are we supposed to do next," but like the rest of the party, was unwilling to accept "you already know where your target will be next. The lead you were given was real!" I ended up having to call the session early, I was so mad.

That player might have still developed the attitude that I needed to indulge every success, especially after joining the D&D game, but if I had trusted the samples in the book and every other sample of play I'd heard elsewhere, then he would have gotten 3 questions, max. If I had restricted his investigation to a single scene like I knew I was supposed to, he wouldn't have been able to drag it out for an hour.

And if I'd followed the general PBTA GM principle of "treat the world like it's alive and the story doesn't solely revolve around your players," they would have simply seen that they weren't being lied to on the news after their target did what they knew she was going to do, in the place they knew she was going to be, and got away because they were all wasting time elsewhere.

They still wouldn't have been happy, probably, but there's not much I can do about that, since they wouldn't tell me why they were rejecting clues like that.

Yes, that's the short version of events.

It ain't easy making it as a TTRPG design studio when it takes a baseline amount of effort just to convince a lot of people that your profession is even real. Like, those rules and numbers, we didn't just fill the pages up with a bunch of random nonsense, we put those in the rulebook for a reason, so that following them would result in particular challenges and experiences.

Game design is real! It is possible to play a TTRPG wrong, because the TTRPG's rulebook exists solely to tell you how to play this particular TTRPG right, and in a well-designed game, that will lead to a particular experience that the authors are trying to sell you.

[celestialgalaxyglow]

Batfam and Danny, Part 12

Danny: Hey Alfred, I was going through some old files and I was wondering if you could explain something to me.

Alfred: Sure thing Master Daniel.

Danny: How long were each of the Robins, Robin?

Alfred: Well Dick was Robin from the time he was 14 till he was 17, when he decided to become Nightwing. After that your father was Robin from the time he was 14 till 16, when the Joker... killed him. He was gone for six months but by the time he retuned Tim had become the new Robin so your father become Red Hood. Tim was Robin from the ages of 14 to 17, Till Steph came to us and he gave the mantel of Robin to her and became Red Robin. Steph was Robin from the age of 17 to 18, she gave up the mantel to Damian when he was dropped off by Miss al Ghul and took the name Spoiler. Damian took up the mantel of Robin upon his arrival at the age of 10 and has been Robin for the last two years.

Danny: Ok, how old is everyone?

Alfred: Dick is 25, Jason is 22, hopefully you knew that one, Tim and Barbara are 20, Steph, Cass, and Duke are 19, Damian 12, Master Bruce is 34, and my age is classified information.

Danny (laughing): How do I gain clearance to access that information.

Alfred: I grant the clearance.

Danny: Can I have clearance?

Alfred: No.

They laughed.

Alfred: I must ask Danny, what brought along this line of questioning?

Danny: It's the way Bruce talks about the former Robins. The official reports state their ages the way you told them, but between the lines, and the way Bruce talks about their times of Robins I imagined they were all around ten when they took up the mantel.

Alfred: That's a reasonable conclusion to reach. Even though everyone, except Damian, were already teenagers when Bruce took them in, he's always talked about them as if they were little kids. And in all honesty he still does.

Danny: Hmm, interesting. Wait so Bruce took on Dick in when he was 24?

Alfred: Yes. Not even a fully grown adult, the brain doesn't fully develop till the age of 25, but yet Bruce decided to adopt a kid 10 years younger than him.

Danny: Our family is strange.

Alfred (sipping his tea): That it is.

Later at Jason and Danny's apartment.

Danny: Dad can I ask you something?

Jason: What is it kid?

Danny: How did everyone react when you came back to life?

Jason: Oh, that is a story! So after I fought my way back to the Land of the Living I woke up in my coffin and dug my way out. I was a bit disoriented, but somehow made my way around the manor to the front door. I remember nocking and Alfred opening the door and that's it. This part I got from Alfred, I feel into his arms, he called for Bruce, and I was sent to a medical bed in the Batcave. When I came to, Bruce, Alfred, and Dick where next to me. They were happy to see me again, but very confused as to how I came back to life. I explained my story, and Dick started laughing, saying only I of all people would fight my way back to being alive. Bruce on the other hand would not stop apologizing for my death, no matter how many times I told him I forgave him. That's also when I learned that Bruce had killed the Joker.

Danny: What about Tim?

Jason: Tim was hiding behind a wall. Poor kid thought I'd be mad at him for stealing my job as Robin. I told him I wasn't mad and that I was done with all the vigilante stuff for the time, and wanted to take a break. He was also a little worried that Bruce would kick him out but we all put a stop to those concerns, he was part of the family and he wasn't getting rid of us that easily. Anyways, the next day Bruce tackled my legally dead status by creating a fake body of me and putting it in the coffin. So when the police asked questions, they saw a very alive me, and a very fake body in the coffin, and Gotham being Gotham, they didn't ask further question, and my legally dead status was revoked.

Danny: Really? No further questions? Like where you've been for the last six months?

Jason: Nope. But I was allowed to keep my death certificate.

Danny: What about Gotham high society and the general population?

Jason: We told this story that some madmen had kidnapped me and that I managed to escape and make it home. Everyone bought it, or at least knew better than to question it.

Danny: Honestly, that checks out.

Jason: Anyways, after that I started helping Tim train, and after two months of rest I decided to jump back to work and took up the name of Red Hood, and started infiltrating Gotham's criminal underground and quickly rose the ranks. Keep in mind I didn't tell anyone, so Bruce got concerned about this new guy taking over Gotham's criminals and sent Tim to spy. I quickly caught him and brought him for an "interrogation." I expected Bruce to send Tim so I prepared an evil monologue and everything. After I was done monologuing I removed my mask and started lecturing Tim about how easily I caught him, and that Bruce, Dick, and I taught him better. Tim got mad and we started having a screaming match. Shortly after that Bruce arrived and saw us. Bruce was not happy that I decided to go back to vigilante business without saying anything, but he was proud of the work I was doing, so I got away with it. And that's more or less everything.

Danny: I love this family.

Jason: Yeah, we're great. I still have a grave, right next to grandma and grandpa. ... Please don't tell Bruce I called his Martha and Thomas, grandma and grandpa, poor guy will start crying and hugging me while calling me his son.

Danny (laughing): Don't worry I won't.

(Master Post)

Current ages

Bruce - 34

Alfred - [Classified]

Dick - 25

Jason - 22

Tim - 20

Barbara - 20

Steph - 19

Cass - 19

Duke - 19

Danny - 16

Damian - 12

[enwoso]

Could you write something maybe about Lucy Bronze having a younger sister that plays for Arsenal and she’s been dating Katie McCabe for a while but hasn’t told Lucy because she’s very overprotective and because of Lucy and Katie’s unspoken “rivalry” . Then at lionesses camp Lucy finds out by accident and they are playing Ireland next so the match is all a bit of chaos but the it all turns out fine and Katie and Lucy both just tease reader together?

Your work is amazing by the way!!

GAME OF HEARTS | katie mccabe x bronze!reader

masterlist

"i'm really gonna miss ya" katie spoke softly as the two of you soaked up your last morning together before you both went off on international camp.

you wrapped up in the warmth of katie's arms as every so often she peppered kisses along your collarbone, your eyes still closed as you hummed along to her words every so often to show you were listening.

"babe, i'll see you in four days" you rasped out as you moved slightly to turning so that you were facing the irish women as you could feel her chest rise up and down as you lay on it.

the two of you due to play each other in the upcoming fixtures, england travelling to ireland for the game. you being a little upset having to play against your girlfriend but it was only for 90' and then you could go back to being in your little love bubble.

"still- am i not allowed to miss my gorgeous, funny, beautiful, sexy girlfriend?" katie said with a her signature grin on her face as you opened your eyes, staring right back at the girl.

"your such a sap-" you whispered as she placed a kiss to your cheek, playfully rolling her eyes at your comment.

"yeah but only for you, and plus you love it little bronze" katie teased as now it was your turn to roll your eyes as she knew how much the nickname wound you up, lucy of course being the one who so proudly began the trend of calling you by that it was now something majority called you at international camps as well as by some of the girls at club level.

"oh actually" you paused for a second to let out a yawn, as katie moved a strand of hair from the side of your face tucking it behind your ear.

"please can we knock it down a level when it comes to my sister when we play against each other on tuesday" you pleaded, as a small glint in your eyes as you tried to convince the girl knowing the chaos which occurs in the league when the two come face to face.

you know it's just what happens when two very passionate players bump heads but you heard both versions of the story and adding fuel to that fire by telling your older sister that you were dating her arch nemesis may not go very well with a tray of cakes and a nice chat to say the least.

a sigh left katie's lips she understood why you were asking cause at the end of the day lucy was your older sister — someone you looked up to dearly and someone who protected you at all costs and she herself would do anything for any one of her sisters but katie also had a goal and that was to win.

"baby, i love ya but that's like askin' me to wear a tottenham shirt" katie grimaced at the thought of that even happening, it sending a slight shiver down your own spine.

—

being lucy's younger sister definitely came with its perks, like when lucy was first making her debuts you got to meet all the cool footballing idols you watched growing up and to be totally honest you were still able to do it now.

but on the other hand, she was still your sister. fiercely protective, sometimes too protective, and of course you always had your disagreements as well as the fact lucy knew all the ways to get under your skin. she was the typical big sister.

but when it came to football? she always had an opinion. especially when it involved arsenal and a certain player from there too. which just of course happened to be your girlfriend — katie.

the two of you had been together for just over seven months. you were keeping things quiet, it was a secret by no means you just hadn't exactly admitted to being in a relationship with the irish girl.

and as for your excuse for not telling lucy, well it just had never came up in a conversation.

so as camp rolled around and the upcoming friendly against ireland loomed in the next few days, you knew you had to be careful. but keeping secrets while sharing the same pitch as your sister, that was proving to be harder than you thought.

as you sat with a few teammates in the lounge area, scrolling through your phone and trying to mind your own business as lucy strode in.

her arrival as always was impossible to ignore, her energy filling the space effortlessly and her voice carried above the casual chatter.

"oi, y/n" lucy called out, waving something on her phone in the air a slight mischievous glint in her eye, "what's this, then?"

you glanced up, already dreading whatever was coming, knowing she loved to find some thing to take the mick out of you for.

lucy flopped down next to you as she thrusted her phone into your hands. it was a video posted by katie, to her story captioned 'reminiscing🩷', reliving a moment from a festival she'd gone to in the summer, you recognising it immediately as you were there two.

"i.. what am i looking at?"

"just wait"

just as the words left lucy's lips, the video flipped as the camera had been turned to face katie and that when your eyes went a little wider and your cheeks definitely went a little redder.

there was you, your arms wrapped around her waist as you head rested on her shoulder a lovesick smile on your face as you sung along to the music as katie had a massive smile on her face.

lucy squinted at you as you lowered her phone keeping it still in your hands, as her brow furrowed. "care to explain why you're looking at katie mccabe like she's just won you the world cup?"

your stomach lurched, you were usually so careful but this was clear as day as you scrambled to downplay it. "come on luce, you know we're close at club level your just being dramatic. we're just teammates"

lucy tilted her head, clearly not convinced, "a teammate thing?" she repeated, her voice dripping with skepticism. "that's not the ‘teammate' look. that's the 'i fancy you' look"

you opened your mouth to try and protest but nothing came out. your brain working overtime trying to figure out how to talk your way out of this when leah wandered into the room.

spotting lucy's phones in your hand, glancing at your panicked face and grinned knowingly. "oh has she found out then?" leah said, leaning casually against the doorframe, "took you long enough!"

lucy's eyes darted between you and leah, "found out what?"

"leah, shut up" you hissed shooting her a warning glare.

leah just completely ignoring you as she continued, "about katie, it's not exactly a secret anymore y/n. everyone with eyes can see there something going on between the two of you and i don't mean by just watching that small video on instagram-"

lucy's expression shifted from teasing to something more serious, as she leaned back slightly her arms crossed. "wait you and katie? that's.. actually a thing. i though they were just silly tiktok rumours?"

you hesitated, fiddling nervously with the hem of your hoodie. "yeah" you admitted not daring to look at your sisters gaze. "it's been a while, i didn't tell you because well — i didn't want to make thing weird. you and katie don't exactly.. get along"

lucy stared at you for a long moment, her expression unreadable before she let out a sigh, the tension in her shoulders easing. "weird? y/n i know i might be protective but i'm not a monster and that's just match banter. if she makes you happy then that's all that matters."

you blinked, slightly surprised at her sudden acceptance, "really, your okay with it?"

lucy smirked as she nodded, "yeah, but don't think i'm going easy on her when we play against ireland. she's still getting crunched in the tackles-"

you let out a small groan, "lucy!" as a chorus of laughter came from your sister, "i'm kidding.. well maybe." she whispered at the end but you still heard.

you laughed along, the weight suddenly lifting from your chest, as leah who had been watching the entire exchange with an amused grin, chimed in clapping her two hands together, "well that went better than expected!"

lucy raised an eyebrow at her, "don't think you're off the hook either williamson, if you knew and didn't tell me, your just as bad as her!"

leah held up her hands in mock surrender, "hey i figured it out myself, and plus it ain't my business and it was way more fun watchin' y/n squirm!"

you groaned as you buried your face in your hands as lucy and leah shared a laugh at your expense. but despite their teasing you couldn't help but feel relieved.

—

the match had ended in ireland, and the tensions from the ninety minute game between the players had melted away into the usual camaraderie of the post game routine.

players from both teams chatting, swapping shirts and taking photo as they celebrated another memorable clash as england had won, securing there space in the euros in switzerland.

katie and lucy were stood near the center circle, locking into a playful debate. from a distance you could see katie gesturing animatedly whilst lucy stood with her arms crossed, her signature smirk firmly on her lips.

curiosity and a little apprehension pulled you towards them, "what's going on here?" you as as you approached.

"oh just discussing which side of london is superior" katie said with a cheeky grin, titling her head slightly towards lucy. "you know london is better red, i'm sure you agree"

lucy scoffed, rolling her eyes, "please mccabe, london is blue on a whole different level."

"yeah yeah," katie said with a dramatic wave of her hand, "you guys are ok, i'll give you that but people who have a good sense of football know which is the better side of london"

lucy smirked, leaning forward slightly. "shame you picked the wrong side of it then."

katie gasped, clutching her chest in mock horror, "the wrong side? you mean the side which had trophies and the history to back it up?"

you groaned, pinching the bridge of your nose knowing the two of them well enough to know neither of them were going to back down, "you two realise you're both ridiculous, right?"

ignoring you, katie pulled her phone out of her pocket. "we should document this moment, don't you think" she waved lucy closer, "cmon bronze, let's get a picture. and maybe one day you'll see the light and come to the proper side of london"

lucy rolled her eyes but stepped in next to katie, you stood awkwardly nearby as katie held out her phone for a selfie the pair throwing exaggerated smiles.

right as the photo snapped, katie nudged lucy with her elbow and said, "awe that's a cute photo to. shame you play for the wrong side of london."

lucy snorted, glancing at the photo, "your lucky i don't delete this right now."

katie grinned, "it's fine, just caption it: 'the day bronze met greatness!'"

lucy laughed, shaking her head, "greatness? that's rich coming from someone who can't even make it past the quarterfinals in the champions league-"

katie gasped, turning to you, "babe you better defend me and the club now or i'm tellin' everyone you still steal my hoodies!"

you threw your hands up in exasperation a small laugh coming from your lips, "oh no don't drag me into this. you both know where my loyalty's lie."

"your sisters impossible, you know that? she doesn't appreciate brilliance." katie leaned against you dramatically sighing.

lucy raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying herself, "brilliance? that's what they call it these days?"

katie tolled her eyes playfully as you just laughed, following the two of them as they both started to walk towards the tunnel. along with other players starting to make their way of the pitch.

katie had that familiar glint in her eye, the one that softened your heart no matter how chaotic the game had been.

"i'm goin' to go catch up the ma team," katie said as she reached out to tuck a loose strand of your hair behind you ear.

her touch was gentle and calm unlike her totally opposite persona on the field. a smile lingering on your face despite the lingering adrenaline from the match.

she leaned in, pressing a quick but soft kiss to your lips as she whispered, "i love you."

you heart swelled as you whispered it back, "i love you, too"

katie turned as she waved to your older sister as she star tee d to walk away, "see you soon bronze! don't miss me too much!"

lucy just shook her head muttering something under her breath as katie disappeared towards the irish team.

"what was that?" you asked an eyebrow raising as you turned to her.

lucy huffed, crossing her arms, "i said i don't think i’ll ever get used to that."

you laughed nudging your older sisters shoulder playfully, "you'll have to she's not going anywhere luce!"

katie fully disappearing in the tunnel as she turned a corner as lucy tuned to you with a grin, but it wasn't the usually teasing one.

"i like her." she said pausing for effect, "but she's still completely wrong about london."

you laughed shaking your head, "i don't think she's ever going to stop trying to convince you and it's two against one. london is red."

"your both wrong.." lucy said with a smirk, "but besides that i think she's good for you." you smiled softly "thanks, luce."

lucy clapped you on the shoulder, her usual teasing grin returning. "now come on. let's go find some post-match food before mccabe comes back and starts another argument."

you laughed, following her into the tunnel, you couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of relief. katie and lucy might still have their friendly battles, but they were your battles now, filled with teasing and love from the two most important people in your life.

[namjooningera]

Yandere JJK! With accepting/yandere reader

Characters: Gojo, Nanami, Toji

AN: god I love these sm. I love when the reader is just insane as the characters but I literally never seen these written 😭 if y’all see stuff like this pls tag me 🤺 anyway sorry for the long wait. Also lmk if you want pt2 with Geto, Sukuna, and Choso.

TW: kil*ing, stalking, yandere acts (duh), kidnapped/kidnapping, drugging, slight sexual themes

Gojo:

You met the strongest person on the planet, the most powerful, the Satoru Gojo.

Good looking, smart, funny, powerful. The whole package! And he acknowledged you.

You normally kept to yourself, introverted and alone. It was mostly due to shame. You were born with a cursed power, and became a sorcerer. An average, bottom of the food chain sorcerer. A third grade. You almost made it to second grade- key word: almost. You decided you’d rather just be the principals assistant at jujutsu high, and a backup sorcerer for emergencies. Dragging yourself along doing stupid tasks by the principle Yagas orders, somewhat interacting with other students and teachers, overall achieving nothing.

You were rather ashamed of your abilities. You always knew you had somewhat potential, you could definitely climb the ranks, but you were exhausted. Fighting day and night, your mental health deteriorating- you had no motivation.

Your life was basically empty. No goals, no motivation, a life barely worth living.

Until you met him.

The strongest. You hadn’t realized it until you were called for backup. Some fight the first years got caught up with by accident, with dangerous curses above their grades. You fought them off until you felt an energy breeze into your skin, your skull, in your blood. His energy. His domain.

You were caught in his domain, your body frozen as you felt his aura in your blood, and your body filled with adrenaline.

Ever since you were born you felt something was missing. You felt empty. Like a puzzle missing its most important piece, you were alone in the world and isolated, even while you were surrounded by others.

But the feeling you felt? While his domain surrounded you and caressed you and you felt his energy in your lungs, your eyes, your brain filled with him him him. You knew who was going to give you that last puzzle peice, the person who is that last puzzle piece, the piece to make you feel whole, to make you happy, to make you full.

You hadn’t realized his domain had let go, you were back on your feet, and the threat was gone. You snapped out of it (barely) to check on the students.

You felt it. That motivation you’ve never felt before. You know now what your goal is, to fly up the ranks, to grab his attention, to bring back that feeling and keep it in your grasp, to have the will to live again.

What you didn’t know, was he felt it too.

He felt your cute little heartbeat in his domain.

He felt your energy, an energy that felt… different. There was something different about you.

He breathed in your breathes, he felt your touch, he accepted your gaze, he wanted more. The thought of gently opening your belly to suffocate himself in your small ribs, to hide himself like a cocoon in your small body to be hidden from the world as the “strongest.”

Satoru gojo, was, intrigued.

A feeling he was unfamiliar with.

He was a clingy man for sure- you knew that as he whined at your side for attention as you talked to Shoko. You couldn’t believe one of the strongest and a teacher at this school was acting so.. blunt.

But even as he continued to act clingy, you couldn’t help but notice he acted that way towards everyone. Of course what you didn’t notice was a different glint in his eye with the way he looked at you then others.

Even with his clinginess, you felt the way he was also detached. You wanted to open his brain, pick apart the pieces and understand why he acted the way he does, why he’s so close but so far, does he even like you?

This went on for several weeks- his clinginess towards you, and yet you felt his distance. You couldn’t stalk him well, knowing with his power he’d most definitely catch you immediately. You instead took a more relaxed approach, something subtle and less.. noticeable.

You were able to get info about him from the other teachers, it wasn’t that hard. Plus, most of the time he yapped it out himself.

You were quite smart with your tactics, subtly using the info about him for your own good. Oh, you just happened to buy kikufuku and just happened to have extra for him. Oh you just happened to wear his favorite colors and put your hair up the way he likes it.

It’s just a coincidence!

You got quite tired though, not seeing any changes. With all the info you put to work and trying to be a better sorcerer while still having assistant duties- you were exhausted.

And then you noticed small trinkets in your home starting to disappear. It wasn’t much; things disappearing as simple as a simple piece of jewelry, a lounging shirt, chapstick, etc…

And of course you didn’t think much of it, you probably misplaced it somewhere anyway.

And then you found a little white hair on your pillow.

“Yeah it’s just down the hall from here.”

You somehow convinced Gojo Satoru to come over to your home (it was incredibly easy), and you led him inside your apartment. He was as excited as always, picking at things, making comments, being his overall cheery happy self.

“Tea?”

“Oh yeah sure.” He answered, following you into the kitchen.

“Grab the tea packets for me?” You’re putting the kettle on the stove, heating up the water. Gojo skips to one of the higher cabinets, opening it and grabbing Jasmine tea packets.

“Hm that’s weird.” You giggle.

“Hm?” He smiled back at you.

“You knew exactly where the tea packets are.”

“…” However he just played it off with nervous laughter and using the excuse that ‘your home is just so organized of course the tea is in this cabinet’ and you just smile sinisterly because you know he’s lying and you know he doesn’t know that you know.

It funny to catch him off guard like that, where he almost trips in himself because you catch something he does, something that could expose him.

You make the tea however as he yaps off about his day, and all you could think about was I can’t let him get away. The more you felt his distance even as his physical body clung to you, the more you felt the motivation he gave you start to drain away.

“So what was the big news you wanted me to come over for?” He giggled, kicking his feet as he sat at the kitchen island with his tea you prepared for him.

“Well… I’m a second grade now!” You squealed, finally accomplishing something you felt worth mentioning.

And of course Gojo is proud of you, why wouldn’t he be?

“That’s amazing sweet cheeks I know you could!” His god awful pet names for you- but you know he’s proud. He stands up to try and give you a hug or pat your head since you stand on the opposite side of the kitchen island but- what the?

His feet are wobbly, and his vision almost instantly goes black the second he gets up, the room spinning as darkness started to consume him.

“I know! Isn’t it just so great? I’ve been working really hard Gojo-sama.” You smile, skipping to him as he starts to fade away. “And it’s all ‘cause of you. I should be thanking you.”

His body finds its way unconscious in your arms, “I can’t thank you enough” you embrace him tednerly, sighing as his entire body rests in your hold, your eyes glancing over at his half drunk laced cup of tea.

It’s weird- he’s never felt this weak.

His body is tied, he’s bound and gagged. As his vision started to clear, he noticed he was in what looked like a basement, a very dimly lit and dull basement. As he started to struggle against his restraints, the tighter it got. He noticed the cursed tags on them, hundreds even. He could break through them, he just needed a bit of time to gather some strength, he was still dizzy after all.

However a familiar figure emerged from the darker parts of the basement, where his sweet beloved crush stood in front of him. His heart raced as he recognized you, in all your gorgeous glory.

“You’re awake, good.” You sigh, lips that curve into that sweet familiar smile he’s loved ever since he first acknowledged you.

“Y/n.” Gojo whispers, his voice muffled by the cloth gagging him, his mind boggled at the idea the sweet innocent weak you could pull something off like this.

“I know this isn’t ideal, Gojo. I’m aware, but I just couldn’t help it. You saved me.” And how come he just noticed the way your eyes glare into hearts, a smile so sinister and cute he couldn’t help but melt.

“Saved?” Drool covering the gagged cloth, trying not to whine against the gag.

“Yes, saved. It’s all you. You know they’ve been talking about making me a teacher? A teacher. I won’t just be.. a nobody.”

And you don’t notice the way his eyes droop onto your face, eyeing your body up and down and dragging his gaze back up to your face. A pink blush covering his cheeks and extra drool leaving his mouth.. even an extra body component that was.. throbbing.

He muffled something against the cloth, whining almost. You rip the gag out his mouth.

“You were never a nobody.” He gasps out.

You sigh. “Always so supportive. I hope you can continue being supportive while your stuck down here. Don’t worry, it’ll only be for a while..” which is a lie, your sure you want to keep him down here for as long as possible. You know it’ll be difficult, having to use your own cursed energy and heavy tags to keep him down and submissive to you, but it’s worth it.

“Y/n.”

“You don’t have to hide anymore- were the same gojo. I know your secrets, I know how you feel about me. You’re stuck with me.”

His eyes are wide and scary now, a gaze your sure will haunt you. You turn your eyes away from him, deciding it would be better to give him some time to settle, to let him relax. But as soon as you turn your body, you hear a loud rip, and your body is slammed onto the floor.

However you realize you aren’t in pain, which is abnormal, until you see he had his infinity around your body to make sure it wasn’t hurt in the way he slammed you down.

Your chest squished against the floor, body firmly planted as Gojos body held you down tightly, his lips pressed closely into the side of your face as he breathed heavily.

“Sweet cheeks- this? All for me?” His lips were in a wide grin, eyes crescents and crazy.

You whine in his grip, trying to struggle out of it. Shit. Your supposed to have the power in this situation not him. He’ll run away now- he thinks your crazy, he’s gonna hurt you, he hates you-

“I’m not stuck with you- you’re stuck with me.” He sighs lustfully against your lips, his hand gripping your jaw into your face, the other holding your smaller body down.

“Your perfect f’me” and his lips finally press against yours, a sweet harmony in crazy.

Nanami:

You’ve always been fond of the house wife ways. You’d watch those mothers with loving husbands walk past you, a little child in their cradle and they giggle and hold each others hands. You know it’s not all giddy and fun and games, a family is a huge deal. A huge deal you’ve never been able to have.

A loving and accepting family? Unconditional love? Yes, you’ve never had that. And you think at this point, you probably never will.

You’re a jujutsu sorcerer. You don’t have time to start a family or even meet a man. But god do you crave it. That domesticity, that life of love and safety. You think this as you kill curses and watch the stinky blood ooze out their green skin, it’s bodies littering the floor.

You’re sick of it. Sick of being a sorcerer. You used to love this. It gave you a thrill to kill curses and save humans, you felt like a hero. But then was when you were a teenager. When you were free and happy. But things change and now you would just like to settle. Settle down, enough work and fighting. You’d like to enjoy your life, being thrown into battle as soon as you hit the ripe age of fifteen.

But alas, as you come back to jujutsu high, nodding at the sorcerers who brush past you. You smell disgusting, the blood and guck had seeped into your clothes and dampened your skin. You feel gross and just need a shower.

But your stoped by a certain teacher and sorcerer, a very annoying man that you grew up with.

“Hey! Y/n!” It’s Gojo, in your face. “You smell gross, you finished them off though right?”

“Obviously.” You roll your eyes.

You really have lost the glint in your eyes. That special excitement after you kill a curse, the way you’d brag and jump around after saving people. You don’t really care anymore. It’s a repeat everyday. Just with new curses and different people to save. Yet the same scenario and same situation. And you’re sick. Sick of all of it.

“Anyways, Nanami wanted to talk to you~ hmm let me guess, maybe he finally grew the balls to ask you out?” She smirks at you, glasses down at his nose as he teases you.

You jab him in the rib with your elbow as you walk past him. “Whatever just tell me where he is.”

You’ve always had quite a thing for Nanami. Perhaps he was the reason your craving for such a domestic life. The way he held himself up, responsible and serious. You just knew he’d be an amazing husband. You’ve seen the way he takes care of other people, ever since high school, and you watch as he takes care of his student now.

You sometimes wonder if he’d be a good father. You definitely think he would be. He’s a sweet man and he’s always been. You’ve never seen him raise his voice (except towards Gojo, but that’s normal), he’s always caring and it touches you everytime.

But you know he’s never going to be yours. Your on and off crush on him, you brush it off as just looking up to him. He’s smart, muscular, responsible and very handsome. What’s not to look up to?

But sometimes the love sickness bubbles up in your throat. As you watch him be himself. That one time you had to go on a mission with him, where the children were the victims, and after, he had taken his time to take care of the kids and check up on them one by one. They weren’t hurt, just scared, but he made sure to reassure them check them for wounds. Your heart swelled at that, especially when he came to check on you, too.

Sometimes he makes you angry however. Whenever you see some sorcerer or office worker throw themselves at him, and he doesn’t even notice. Their slutty ways in trying to get his attention, caressing his back with their ugly done nails, whispering things you can’t hear into his ear.

Every time he brushes them off.

And your happy, but then you feel dejected, because you remember doesn’t want a relationship. He’s said it before, you overheard. He does dream of being married and having children, but being a sorcerer would take up too much time and he couldn’t.

So why did he become an office worker and still brush everyone off?

Your short heels click against the floor as you walk the floorboards. Getting to where Gojo told you to meet Nanami.

You bite your lip at the hurt in your leg as you walk. A few weeks ago, you had a terrible accident on a mission. A curse caught you off guard, (you didn’t tell anyone it was because you were in your feels, deep in thought) but you got insanely hurt.

Ribs bruised, ankle shattered, cervical spinal cord bruised. You’re insanely lucky for Shoko, and her ability to heal you. However you can still feel the after shocks of it, your body tired after being forced to heal after such heart quenching injuries.

You smile though, remembering the heart break look in Nanami’s eyes. You don’t mean to feel happiness from his pain of seeing his close friend injured so terribly, but god was it satisfying to see how much he cared.

“Kento?” You open the door to the empty teachers lounge where he was apparently supposed to be.

“How was your mission, y/n?” He’s sitting on the sofa of the lounge, dipping a tea packet into a cup of hot water.

“Oh fine. Got it done, I guess.” You sit on the table in front of him, stretching and yawning. “So what’s up?”

God you remember the adorable way his brows clenched and eyes widened in pain as he looked down at you on Shoko’s gurney. The way he cared so much. I need to make him mine. You thought, but maybe that was the delusion talking. The blood that seeped from your head and body. But he held your hand the entire night. Whispered reassuring words of love into your ears and even kissed your hand and forehead when he thought you were sleeping.

That wasn’t delusion right? He did that. He cares for you. More than he’s shown care for the others. But alas, you know the perfected blonde headed man is too busy for a relationship, plus you don’t even think he’d want you like that.

“I was told by Shoko to check up on you.” He hands you a coffee. You smile as you take it, knowing he always knows exactly how to make your coffee just right.

“What? Why did she send you? Why didn’t she ask for me, herself.”

He shrugs. “You know how she is.”

You laugh at that, and nod, taking a sip of your coffee. “Oh thanks Ken, I needed this.” You sip some more. And he eyes you, watching you drink the coffee he made specially for you.

“You as a matter of a fact.. I am feeling quite.. drowsy.” For some reason, a sort of fog hits your brain. You believe it to be from fighting those curses. But it wasn’t that bad, so why do you feel so tired all of a sudden?

“That’s okay. Just let it happen.”

What? You look up at your close friend, the blonde man, eyeing him weirdly. “Ken? Kento I think you should call Shoko.”

“No need,” he catches you as you stumble off from sitting on the table, his arms engulfing your smaller figure. “I can take care of you just fine.”

You blush at that, but can’t focus on his sweet words because your body has just gone limp in his arms, and your barely conscious. The coffee slips out your hand and falls to the floor, the plastic seal breaking and making the contents of the cup spill onto the ground.

He sighs at that, but puts his hands under your arms and picks you up, one hand under your bottom and the other around your back, making you lean all of you onto him.

“Ken…”

“Shh, my dear. It’ll all feel better soon. I’m here.”

You wake up in a familiar room. Not too familiar, but you know it to be the guest bedroom in Nanami’s home. But then you notice yourself wearing one of his white button ups, with nothing else on except the same pair of panties you were wearing when you passed out. Your hair is down and cascading your shoulders, your body is limp and tired.

“Sweetheart? Oh you’re up.” Nanamis head pops into the room from the bedroom door.

You try to get up and greet him but you find your weak body is tied by a chain to the bedpost of the bed. A chain that is made of pure curse power, making it so you stay put and unable to use your cursed energy to break it.

“Ken?” You whine, reaching out to him.

He looks so domestic. His shirt is off, (which you realize, is the one your wearing), he’s in sweatpants and his hair is down, not gelled back.

“Good morning.” He sits next to you on the bed, and it makes you aware that you can’t use any of your power. “Sleep well?”

It almost makes you cry. This kind of domesticity, is what you wanted. A loving and very handsome husband, doting on his lovely wife, something as simple as greeting you in the morning makes your heart pop.

“F-fine. What is this? Why am I here, Kento?”

He frowned, looking at down before looking back at you. “I.. have made some arrangements.”

“Arrangements?”

“Yes. Y/n. You are to stay with me and live here. As my partner of course. It’s all for your own safety. Of course I’ll make sure your provided with and supported every step along the way. All the things you need are here, including me.”

He gulps in the way you stare at him wide eyed. His hands are shaking and his voice is trembling. It’s obvious that he wants your validation, that he knows you’ll hate him that your scared-

But you’re not. You pinch yourself. This has to be a dream. It doesn’t matter that your tied to the bed post, that you’ve been taken here against your will, that you definitely think he must’ve put something your coffee to make you all drowsy- he wants you. He needs you. He’s basically begging with his eyes for you to forgive and accept him.

“As your.. partner?” You gulp. You hope, you beg, in your mind, that he means what you think he means. Please. You beg in your head.

“My.. my lover. My girlfriend, and hopefully future wife.”

Your jaw is basically to the floor, your eyes wide as you stare at the man who bunches his eyebrows and squints his eyes, biting his lips in pure nervousness.

He’s adorable. Absolutely adorable. You think.

You reveled in the way he felt so incredibly intense for you that he just had to take you. That instead of any other way he needed you so bad he just stole you away. He doesn’t just want you, he needs you. You shiver looking at your cuffed ankle, there’s no escape for you. Even if you tried. That’s how much he needs you. That even against your will, he’ll have you. Your thighs rub together and you can feel a certain piece of fabric under you dampen. A redness makes its way onto your cheeks and a hazy feeling on pure lust clouds your brain.

Before he can react, you pounce on him. He’s under you, your hands on his shoulders as you hold him down. He gasps, afraid you were going to attack him. He just knew this would happen- he knew you’d be angry- that you’d hate him with all and every bone in your body- wait what?

If you hate him so much, why are you squishing his cheeks and coeing at him?

“Aww Ken I’ve never seen you this nervous before you’re so adorable.”

Wait what? He just stares up at you, wide eyed. “Excuse me?”

“Yeah. All twitchy and scared as if I was gonna yell at you. Ken I’ve never seen you like that!” You giggle, and he just stares up at you.

“I’ve hurt people for you. I’ve.. I’ve been close to killing them just because they’ve laid eyes on you-“

It’s like he’s trying to show how cruel he is, how he’s a bad man. But you just laugh.

“Aww Ken I didn’t know you had a jealous side!”

He just furrows his brows. “I kidnapped you, my dear y/n.”

“You sure did, it’s kind of an upgrade from my apartment though.”

“Y/n I-“ “Stop Ken.” It’s obvious what he’s doing, he doesn’t believe you to be okay with his messy obsessive love.

“How many kids do you want Ken? You want a big wedding, right? Black or white choir- or are we gonna have a DJ? Oh my god can I get a pet-“

“Y/N.”

You freeze, getting of him and sitting down on the bed, crossing your legs, a pout on your lips from being interrupted.

“You.. you.. your okay with this? This arrangement?”

“You drugging me, kidnapping me, then tying me up to a bedpost? All so I can be yours? Yeah I guess so.”

“.. You’re serious?”

“Kento..” You whine, watching him sit up. “I’ve always liked you, silly. I don’t mind your weird little quirks.”

His eyes soften, his gaze almost bleeding through your face. You all of a sudden feel hot and heavy.

“What, Ken?”

“You accept me? For everything I am?”

You nod eagerly. “I can stay home and be your lil’ house wife Ken~”

Blush spreads through his cheeks, he coughs, rubbing his face awkwardly, as if he was some shy school boy, aroused.

“I’ll take as many kids as you give me, a wedding with only close friends and family, black choir, and yes, you may have a pet.” He answers all your questions from before.

Your eyes widen and you squeal, but that’s quickly caught off by Nanami throwing you up in the air, the cursed chain breaking from his consent, as he catches you back in his arms and spins you around, laughing and smothering the sides of your face with kisses. You wrap your legs around his waist and kiss his cheek.

“This.. this calls for a celebration.” He slyly smirks at you, looking up at you cradled in his arms, wearing his button up. You know what he means, and you don’t fight against it.

“Ken.. so about having those kids..” You giggle, your feet unwrapping around his waist so they can push his pants down.

Toji-

You’ve been a maid at several different locations, your resume is quite lengthy. You needed a side job while you attended nursing school, after all those tuitions are a bitch. One of the first places you worked was in the Zenins clan property, after all, free housing and good pay? What more can a nursing student ask for?

It was quite large, and you weren’t the only maid, but probably the youngest. You found yourself getting to know everybody there; the maids, the clan leaders (who you’d only nod at), the younger clan members and- wait who’s that? There’s a gorgeous hunk of a man, tall, muscular, and oh so many scars.

You’ve never been interested in boring business men, the boys in your classes, every immature guy who’s ever asked you out- no. But who was he? You barely ever saw him around and yet he’s gorgeous, even with the plentiful of scars that covered his face and the badly done bandages around his arms. He didn’t even spare you a glance as he walked past you- and a shiver of cold went down your spine as he did so. You needed to find out asap who this man was.

And you did. A young man, around 18, a disgrace, and you know now where those scars must have came from. The curses he’s forced to fight. You found out from other clan members, it wasn’t hard. They all talked harshly about him, like he was an abomination to the Zenin clan and you couldn’t help but feel bad.

And finally after trying to bump into him several times, trying to make eye contact with him, get even a peep out of him- you find him passed out on the floors of the corridors of the Zenin members dorms.

He was bleeding out, shaking and twitching, and you could see the large gashes in chest, the deep bruises on his muscular arms as he tried to pull himself up, the blood that drips from his lips. You thought he looked gorgeous like this.

But you were slightly worried, after all he was bleeding out fast, and it was a matter of time before his body would be in a critical state- so you acted fast. You slipped him into your room, hiding him away from the world. You grabbed supplies from the nursing station; gauze, bandages, iv bag, overall tools you thought you might need.

This was your chance to make him notice you. After all, you overheard that he’d be punished if he needed taking care of at the nurses station- so what better solution is you, a nursing student, to help him secretly! You’re doing him a favor.

What you don’t understand is why he freaks out the first time he wakes up. You’re sure it’s some trauma response, but he’s ripping his iv out and breaking things in his way and almost tackling you down- he’s scared. So of course you sedate him, luckily you kept that needle on you. And there was just something so powerful in the way that with just a small needle pressed into his skin, this big hunk of a man would slump against you- at your very mercy.

The second time he awakes is a lot better. He’s calmer and he takes a good look at his surroundings, realizing he is in fact still in the zenins property, just in a different room then his. You explain how you found him and that took him in to take care of his wounds. The only reaction you get from him is a weird furrow in his brows and a twinkle in his eyes- a facial reaction you can’t pinpoint or read.

After that you’re quite disappointed. Once he’s out your room you two go back to never talking or interacting, and you deem your plan a failure.

But what you don’t know is that you caught a little someone’s eye.

What you believe is him avoiding you is Toji actually watching you from where you can’t see. What you believe is him ignoring you- refusing to make eye contact with you, is him knowing he’ll break and pounce on you once you do. What you believe is him not liking you, not having an inch of interest in you, is him watching you sleep from the window in your maid dorm.

He just can’t understand. Toji has never thought of himself as a real person with real feelings. His feelings- buried. Empathy and livelihood? Buried. He was never allowed to be human. And he’s never seen himself as one. So why did you treat him like one? Why were you kind? Sweet? Your adorable smile and silky hair, glossy eyes and this cute facial expressions. Nobodies ever given Toji a second thought. Not an ounce of love or empathy has ever been shown to him- but you. With all your generosity and kind hearted actions- you took care of him personally because you didn’t want him to get punished in the nursing station.

With your tender eyes and your soft hands, when you caught him two days aftwr he left your room so you could re-do his bandages, cleaning his wounds and reapplying new cleaner gauze around his old injuries.

He didn’t say a word, he couldn’t- his little breaths hitching every time your soft hands glazed him or your face was just a little to close to his.

He had to learn everything about you. Your childhood, the way you loved, the foods you ate and all your friends- he needed to know everything. He’d even purposely let a curse or two bite at him- just so he could stand at your door bloody and bruised, waiting for your soft touches.

He was utterly obsessed.

But then you up and left.

Those little interactions didn’t grow to anything, and you left after graduating your school, you didn’t have to be a maid anymore.

And that’s when he became incredibly desperate.

Present day, he finds himself at your door, at your apartment. It’s been a while- but he found you. He knows he needs to plan this perfectly, some way to make you swoon and fall for him, a way that won’t make you question how the hell he found you.

But then he notices you inside your apartment, you’re sitting eating a candle-lit dinner, you look so beautiful- wait who’s that? A man sits in front of you, eating the food Tojis sure you made for him. You know he’d cook for you right? You wouldn’t have to move a muscle. But Tojis angry, he’s upset, his blood is boiling at the thought of you with a lover. That’s supposed to be him! Giggling and eating across from you, talking and- did he just hold your hand? He’s holding your hand.

And that’s when Toji breaks.

You barely even process what happened, all you see is blood and your date is no longer in his chair, his body isn’t even in the room. But there is another man in the room, a tall muscular man, with that familiar glaze in his eyes you remember so well.

You immediately get up out of reflex, to run to hide to do something. And he’s caught off guard as you run off into your apartment, hiding in your closet. He sighs. He knows he shouldn’t have done what he just did, he could have at least waited. Waited till the man left your apartment where he could kill him in peace, without scaring you. But now, he has to do this the tough way. He has to force you into his arms. Fine. That’ll do, too.

He stomps into your room, glancing around your bedroom and taking it all in. He’s already been in here once when you weren’t home. Climbing into your bed, stealing a few hairs off your hairbrush, organizing the plushies on your bed and taking notice of every little thing in your home. That’s also how he knew every small hiding place you could possibly be in.

“Come on, you know I won’t hurt you. I just came to visit you..”

He finally speaks, and his voice his deep and almost slurred, it’s obvious he’s excited. He’s always had to hide his devastating obsession with you, the only person who’d ever glance his way, the only person who’s ever smiled at him or clean his wounds, even comfort him. You were there. The only person there. An Angel, his sweet Angel, he had to have you. After all, you had to be his soulmate. Why else would you care the way you did, when nobody else could?

“I promise I’ll be good to ya.”

He says as he actively touches your things, pocketing small items like your chapstick or hair band- even your panties.

“I’ll treat ya well. You won’t have to worry your little head off about nothin’. Chores, cooking, shopping, working, I can take care of it all for ya. Just come out kay’?”

The way he talks actually seems genuine, as you peer at him from the small crack in the closet.

He thinks you’re svared, probably shaking and terrified. Like a little bunny being hunted by wolf, or a small gazelle being preyed on by a lion. He’s sure your svared, dizzy, traumatized.

Oh, but you’re not.

You’re shivering and shaking yes. But from fear? No, excitement. This was.. exhilarating. You’ve never felt anything like this. The way he killed for you- the way his fingers glide against your things like he’s saving them in his memory-remembering what you like.

It’s exactly what you did.

You remember- back when you worked for the Zenin clan. He was set on missions, to kill curses- it was more of a humiliation ritual then anything. You knew he’d come to you silently asking for help with his wounds, you helped him everytime. But while he was gone?

Well, you were quite sneaky.

Picking the lock or climbing through his open window. Then you’d snoop around. He didn’t have much, it’s obvious he wasn’t loved or cared for at all. That’s okay, you’d provide more then enough love and care for the both of you. You’d snoop and document every little finding, whatever hints you could get from what he liked and used.

That is, until you found your used panties hidden in his pillow case.

And that’s when you knew, you had a little stalker on your tail.

But everytime you tried your hardest to interact with him other then a silent nod in the hallway as you walked past him, or a twitch of his lips as an answer when you nursed him- you got nothing. Like a stone wall you couldn’t break, couldn’t crack, and you just wanted your yandere to snap. You wanted to have him in your arms, where you could coo at him and tell him that he didn’t need his family, or any friends or anyone- because your love could overcome all. That he only needed you.

So you decided that you’d take a risk. A risk to finally make his facade crack, so that he’d finally break loose and show his true colors. You knew it was possible- seeing that he also had an alter of you under his bed, in a shoe box. A collection of things- a few candid photos of you, a used tissue, an old bracelet, nail clippings, a receipt, and.. your used tampons? Okay. He did love you, obsessed even, you could make him break.

And so you took the risk of leaving him completely.

You left- moved into a nice but small apartment on the other side of the city. You prayed he’d find you, hoping that this wasn’t just a fluke- that you finally met your match- your soulmate.

So finally, when you came home to a few small things missing, your plushies organized in jus the way you like them, and the smell of him lingered in the air- you knew he was yours. All yours. Your soulmate, your man, yours yours yours.

So you shake with excitement and glee and his hunky body makes its way closer to your closet, where you hide. You know your panties are soaked, and there’s a big smile on your face that definitely gives away how happy you are. You’re sure if you had a tail like a puppy, it would be wagging like crazy out of pure excitement.

“Doll. I’m getting angry. If you get out now, I won’t have to drag ya out okay?”

Your silent though, your eyes full of hearts as you cover your mouth, trying not to breathe so loud.

“I swear to fucking god. This is my last warning, if you don’t get out I’ll-“

“I’m here!” You whine softly, kicking the closet door open just a crack, wide glossy eyes looking up at the hunky man.

He hadn’t expected you to actually be complaint and do what he asked, he expected he’d have to force you out. Tojis eyes were wide as he looked down at you, watching you shuffle out the closet, on your knees, your tiny body shaking.

“Oh doll.”

He picks you up, cradling you into his strong arms, and you immediately wrap your arms and legs around him and your face finds solace in his neck, nuzzling into him.

“Did I scare you too hard? You know I hurt him for your own good, I promise he was bad. I’ll take care of ya.” His arms are heavy around you, tight and unforgiving. He can’t let you go, not now, not after he finally has you plaint in his arms.

But you also want to see how far he’d go, now that he’s in your arms.

“Let go of me! You’re insane! I-I hate you!” You acted, shoving him and scratching at his neck and chest, trying to shove him away.

He grunted, his eyes wide again as you started to fight back. He thought this might happen- it’s why he wanted to go the easy way first, to just softly ease you into his arms- until he ended up breaking.

But he was angry, shoving you down onto your own plush bed, his hands pinning you down by your shoulders.

“Stop fighting!” He yelled- almost whining. He was angry, but it all came from a place of insecurity- and you knew that. So you played into that.

“I don’t wanna be with you- you’re disgusting!”

And things went dark after that.

You awoke in a dark environment, cold, and your ankle chained to a wall, and your laid on a clean futon. Your dress clothes are still on from your “date” but your shoes are off and your light makeup was cleaned off your face. You could tell your hair had been brushed, your favorite skincare serum applied to your skin, chapstick on your lips, as if you were preened after being knocked out.

Your ears perk up as you hear a door swing open, and your see your lover walk into the dark room your in. Your confused, you hadn’t expected him to go as far as to knock you out and take you away- to wherever this is.

“Ah. Your awake. If you’re wondering where you are, it’s the basement of the Zenin clans property- a dungeon if you will.”

You look at him confused. You didn’t think he’d take you back to his origins, a place you were sure he hated.

“They’re all dead, if you’re wondering. You’re my family now.”

All dead? He… killed his family? Your sure now the estate must be his, his to make new memories in, his to have you in, his to make a new family in.

“T-Toji, this place is scary.” A cell you were basically in, you were lucky he had placed a clean futon in there.

“Scary huh? Well I can’t bring you up if you aren’t good.” His tone was almost condensing, but god were you into it. He has rules for you doesn’t he? You have to be good for him. And that was enough to get you excited again.

“I-I’ll be good! I promise!” You tried to crawl to him, but the chain withheld you. His eyes were wide and curious at what you said, the way you reached out to grab him, your sweet eyes he’s seen before, the innocent glance and pouty lips.

“I promise.” You pouted, an innocent act for how you truly felt, wanting to pounce on him, to confess all your petty sins and show him all your love.

“Prove it, doll.”

[woso-story]

The Worry Of Love

Alexia Putellas x Reader

The morning light streamed into the bedroom, soft and golden, but you barely noticed it as you stirred awake. Instinctively, your hand reached out to the other side of the bed, seeking the familiar warmth of Alexia. Instead, your fingers found cool sheets. You blinked, reality setting in: she was away at an away game, and the bed felt far too big and empty without her.

You lay there for a moment, letting the loneliness creep in. It was such a cliché to feel incomplete when Alexia wasn’t around, but that’s how it was. She had a way of filling the silence, of making everything feel right. Without her, the apartment seemed eerily quiet.

Eventually, you forced yourself out of bed, padding into the kitchen to make breakfast. The kettle hummed as you prepared your tea, the sound breaking the stillness. On the counter sat a little note Alexia had left before she left for her match:

“Good luck surviving without me, cariño ;) Te amo! Be good. Call me if you need anything, okay?”

Her familiar handwriting brought a smile to your face. You missed her, but you knew she was doing what she loved. Still, you couldn’t help but count down the hours until she’d be back.

---

With the entire day ahead and no work responsibilities, you decided to spend it doing things you loved. After breakfast, you pulled your bike from the storage room, deciding on a long, leisurely ride. The fresh air would do you good, and the thought of a quiet ride through the countryside lifted your mood.

The roads were peaceful, the occasional rustle of leaves the only sound besides the rhythmic hum of your tires. You cycled lazily, admiring the view: sprawling fields, trees swaying in the gentle breeze, and the golden glow of the late-morning sun. You felt lighter, as though the world had slowed down just for you.

But in a single moment, everything changed.

You weren’t sure what exactly happened—one moment, you were gliding along, and the next, you were sprawled on the ground, your bike tangled beside you. Pain radiated from your wrist as you sat up, dazed and confused. You cradled your arm, wincing as the throbbing intensified.

A passerby rushed over, concern etched on their face. They helped you to your feet, offering to take you to the hospital. You insisted you were fine, but the pain told a different story. Reluctantly, you agreed.

The hospital visit was a blur of x-rays and sympathetic nurses. The doctor confirmed what you feared—a fractured wrist. They fitted you with a cast, and though the injury wasn’t serious, it left you frustrated and deflated. This wasn’t how you’d imagined your day going.

---

Back home, you sank into the couch, staring at the cast. You’d planned a full day—shopping, relaxing, watching Alexia’s match—but now, all you had was a stiff wrist and a story you didn’t want to tell.

You thought about calling Alexia. But no, she didn’t need to know. She had a big game tonight, and the last thing you wanted was to distract her. You could already picture the worry in her eyes, the guilt she’d feel for not being there. It wasn’t worth it.

That evening, you settled in to watch her match. Despite everything, seeing her on the pitch brought a smile to your face. She was a force of nature, commanding the game with her usual grace and determination. Her team secured a hard-fought victory, and pride swelled in your chest.

Later, your phone buzzed with her call.

“Hola, mi amor,” she greeted, her voice bright with excitement. “Did you see the game?”

“Of course,” you replied, forcing cheerfulness into your tone. “You were incredible. Congratulations!”

“Thank you! How was your day?” she asked, her voice softening.

You hesitated, the truth on the tip of your tongue. But then you remembered her face when she worried, the way her brows knitted together, how her focus shifted entirely to you. You couldn’t do that to her—not tonight.

“It was good,” you said instead. “Quiet, but nice. I missed you, though.”

“I missed you too,” she murmured. “Just one more night, and I’ll be home.”

You ended the call with a bittersweet smile, guilt tugging at you.

---

The next day, you were on the couch when you heard the sound of keys in the door. Alexia was finally home. You looked up as she walked in, her bag slung over her shoulder, exhaustion evident in her posture.

But her fatigue vanished the moment her eyes landed on your cast.

“What happened?” she demanded, rushing over to you. Her hands hovered over the cast, unsure whether to touch it. “Are you okay? Why didn’t you tell me?”

You sighed, explaining the accident as simply as possible. Her expression shifted from shock to worry, and then to frustration.

“You should have told me,” she said, her tone a mix of scolding and hurt.

“I didn’t want to distract you,” you admitted. “I knew you’d worry, and it wasn’t a big deal.”

“Of course it’s a big deal,” she replied, her voice softening. “You’re hurt. I’d rather know, no matter what.”

Before you could respond, she was off, bustling around the apartment, gathering pillows, blankets, water, and snacks. Despite her exhaustion, she seemed determined to take care of you.

“Lex, stop,” you said eventually, tugging her down onto the couch beside you. “I’m fine. Just sit with me.”

She hesitated but finally gave in, leaning against you. “Do you need anything? Ice? Painkillers?”

“No,” you replied firmly, wrapping an arm around her. “The only thing I need is you.”

Her lips curved into a small smile, though the worry in her eyes didn’t entirely fade.

---

Over the next few days, Alexia’s doting reached new heights. She refused to let you do anything, from cooking to cleaning to even pouring your morning coffee. At times, her hovering was exasperating, but deep down, you knew it came from a place of love.

One morning, as you tried to make breakfast, she gently but firmly steered you back to the couch.

“Sit,” she instructed. “I’ll handle it.”

“Lex, I can manage one-handed,” you protested.

“Not when I’m here,” she countered, her tone leaving no room for argument.

Though her overprotectiveness occasionally drove you crazy, you couldn’t help but smile. It was moments like these that reminded you why you loved her so much.

And as she placed a plate of toast and eggs in front of you, pressing a kiss to your forehead, you realized that maybe being pampered wasn’t so bad after all.

[damnfeelings09]

Animals AU- Shadow's version

A.N: Sorry, got lost in crimson eyes! RED for stalker thoughts, GREEN for yours Please check your surroundings, someone is coming.

Shadow stopped his motorcycle just in front of your house. You got off, still on shaky legs, feeling dizzy. “Thanks... for the ride, for saving me.”

“Now you owe me a bunny”  he said with a wink. “Why did you show up out of nowhere? Be thankful I have good reflexes or you'd be a stain on the floor by now.”

“Ah...” you quickly thought of an excuse, because telling him that you had been chased by a madman was not an option “I missed the bus and the only way out is to walk 5km to the next stop, so I was running to catch it.”

Lies.

“Really? I thought you looked scared, are you afraid of the dark bunny?” he asked getting close to your ear. His hot breath hitting your neck. The memory of what you had done in the afternoon and even more the why came back to your mind blushing you instantly. Shadow had the power to make you furious and now, it seemed, he also had the power to make you blush and he was enjoying it. “Would you like me to walk you to your bed? You won't be afraid of the dark if you’re with me.”

“Asshole” you said coming back to reality. You threw the helmet back at him, but Shadow had good reflexes, catching it in mid-air. You frowned and turned around raising your middle finger at him.

What you trying to do to me

It's like we can't stop, we're enemies

“Love it when you play hard to get”. - He said putting on his helmet “You turn me on” And with that Shadow disappeared again among golden sparks.

The next morning you were at the bus station, Mailo had been apologizing for leaving you alone for 10 minutes straight and excusing himself that he had to go for his sister and you were nowhere to be seen. Mailo and you were best friends since you were in high school, you were both in the same class and his house was 2 blocks away from yours, you used to spend a lot of time at his house because your parents were too busy working for GUN. However, when you turned 15 something changed, both of them became paranoid, locking you at home with them, you were not allowed any electronic devices, you could only talk to your friends when your parents were asleep. Little by little, the stress was consuming you, nobody knew what was going on, a mobian virus the doctors said, it was slowly eating your parents brain and there was nothing to do. You went through many studies but fortunately you had not been infected.

That was the reason for you to study medicine, you would find a cure for that virus, for the Mobian diseases. When you enrolled in medicine Mailo was surprised, he had no idea that you liked sick people, he cared so much about you, saying it was his job to protect you at all costs, that he ended up enrolling with you in the faculty, however his other interests did not allow him to have a clear conscience and he changed some of his classes to biology.

“Forgive me, honey,” he said, pleading with his blue eyes. He’d always been like this, you knew he had feelings for you, heck you even tried to feel the same but in your eyes Mailo was like your brother “I promise I will never leave you alone again.”

“It's okay. Besides, the bus ride wasn't so bad.” You lied. If Mailo knew what was going on he would surely get upset and go straight to his father Commander Clarke, they would start an investigation and have you watched 24/7 or worse, locked up in a safe house. You wouldn't let either of those things happen. You would never be locked up again.

“It is my duty to protect you,” he said with a peculiar smile, ”I will never leave you alone… again.”

When you arrived at the university Mailo said goodbye to you, gave you a kiss on the cheek and assured you that this time he would wait for you. You smiled at him and waved goodbye. You turned around and bumped into a hairball. You blew it away from your face before it made you sneeze, when you opened your eyes white fur was in front of you, shiny and tempting, inviting you to run your fingers through it and check its softness.

“Wow, are we getting along like this bunny? It's my turn to touch” it was his stupid teasing voice again. You were beginning to miss the Shadow who only teased you or hid your stuff. You walked around him and continued on your way to Psych class. “Hey, no good morning kiss for the one who saved your pretty little ass last night?”

“I said thank you.” you reminded him, hurrying your pace.

“You still owe me one bunny,” Shadow walked at your pace, wearing a black sports outfit, which camouflaged perfectly with his fur except for his chest. White fur peeked through the V-neck of his shirt; the same one you had bumped into minutes ago. On his wrists and ankles, he wore golden rings, imprisoning him as if he was something dangerous, he also wore his typical aero shoes.

You're like a drug that's killing me

You rolled your eyes at his words. You might be a good person, but you would never, ever do that hedgehog a favor. “Consider it a truce between us.” You smiled mockingly at him.

Shadow tugged on your wrist, pulling you into the hallway between the buildings. He placed you back against the wall and positioned himself in front of you, one hand resting on the wall close to your neck and the other resting on your waist with a firm grip, a mixture of the warmth of his hand and the coldness of his ring against your bare skin.

“Wha- Shadow let go of me.” You brought your fists to his chest striking him but only managed to get laughter from your opponent. You could feel the vibration under your hands.

“Somone's got fire inside,” he said looking you up and down with his eyes. “Careful  you might get burn bunny.” He withdrew his grip on your waist, your body yearning to feel the touch again.

“Maybe I want to” you whispered, holding his gaze. Shadow smiled, the glow in his crimson eyes turning dark, as if warning you of danger. Seeing that you were not frightened, he looked away.

“I need you to repay me for last night's favor,” he turned his attention back to you, that darkness gone from his eyes.

“What?, Mr. I do everything better than you, Mr. Perfection, Mr. The Ultimate Lifeform is asking for the help of a mere mortal?”

“You're so funny bunny, are you sure you didn't take the wrong career path? You should be a comedian,” he said sarcastically with an annoyed grimace. Seeing Shadow annoyed was not something that happened easily, but when you did it your whole being enjoyed it. You enjoyed making him feel a hint of what he provoked in you.

“I don't think so, sombrita.” you teased, a smirk perfectly drawn on your face, however, your moment of satisfaction didn't last long. Shadow closed the distance between you, his face only inches from you, his breath crashing against yours and his grip again on your waist, this time, gently caressing you with his thumb. The heat rising to your cheeks, almost as red as his eyes. Shadow inhaled deeply, allowing the strawberry scent of your perfume to flood his lungs causing him to shiver, his spikes standing on end.

You can start over you can run free

You can find other fish in the sea

“You're going to help me” it was more of a command than a plea. Your mind focused on his touch, his pads were rough against your skin but the contact didn't bother you, it felt... good.

“Wh-what for?” you hesitated to speak.

“Something simple bunny. There's a girl who doesn't understand that I'm not interested, I just want you to get her off my back.” he said as he played with the strap of your bra, very close to the curve of your breasts.

“Ho-how?”

“Go out with me.” he smiled. “It'll only be a few weeks.”

“No fucking way” You refused, but the blush on your face and your body's reaction to his touch gave away what you felt.

“Pleeeeeease,” he pleaded softly, ”I'll be good to you and help you pass your self-defense class.”

Danger alarms were ringing loudly in your head, but the way Shadow was looking at you had you trapped, you couldn't pay attention to anything else but him. His commanding presence over you and his deep voice, unsettled your senses. And his eyes, fuck those crimson eyes hid behind them an indomitable fire and you a simple match waiting to burn. You were at his mercy, whatever he asked for at this moment you would give it to him.

“Okay” You replied, almost inaudibly, but Shadow had excellent hearing.

“That's my girl.” he smiled, releasing you from his grip “Later bunny.”

But you can't stay away from me

Stupid, sensual hedgehog you thought. How could he look so carefree and disappear just like that after all the wave of emotions he had caused in you.

[hufflepuffsthunderdome]

They Knew

Schlatt x gn!reader Summary: Second part to this! Schlatt takes you back to his after the bar. After all these years you're finally together in the ways you always hoped, until Schlatt's anxiety gets the best of him. Warnings: Please let me know if you find any gendered language, I haven't edited this fully yet. Swearing, making out, allusions to sex. I'm gonna torture everyone and make you wait longer for the smut

You don't remember getting out of the cab, or stumbling your way drunk through the doors of Schlatt's family home, still locking lips as you cling onto each other and giggle. He shushes you as he laughs, as he stumbles his way down the hallway towards his bedroom.

"Not very subtle you two are," a kind voice laughs from the kitchen as his mum flicks on the lights and gives him a faux stern look as the pair stumble in. Her eyes drift to you and in an instant she's in front of you, her hands are on your shoulders as she pulls you in for an excited hug.

"Well look what the cat dragged in," she says excitedly as she pulls back, hands still on her shoulder as she takes you in "oh dear look at you," she says getting a bit choked up as she takes you in, "I always knew you'd grow up to be a beautiful young woman."

"Mom come on," Schlatt grumbles embarrassed as you laugh softly next to him, making familiar pleasantries with his mum. She steps back and takes the sight of the two of you in, standing in her kitchen, like you did so often when you were kids. Now, here you were again, by some miracle, in her kitchen once again, all that time having flown by.

He hears his mum open the door before he can make his way down stairs, cringing to himself as he hears the surprised greeting she gives you.

“Oh! Hello dear,” she says sweetly as she opens the door and takes you in, “who might you be?”

You laugh nervously as you adjust your bag on your shoulder, giving the woman a polite smile, “hi Mrs schlatt -“

He cuts you off as he leaps down the stairs, sliding in between you and his mum, “this is Y/N mum,” he says, “they’re a -“ his voice stuttering in his throat as he takes you in, staring up at him, dreading the words coming from his mouth, “friend from school.”

“Mmm,” his mum chuckles behind him as she fails to stifle her laugh, “friend from school he says.”

"Come on," Schlatt groans as he stumbles a bit drunk, resting a hand on your waist, "you can talk in the morning."

"Oh in the morning huh?" she says as she raises an eyebrow at her son, who in turn groans as his cheeks flush, "alright alright" she laughs putting her hands up in surrender "I'm leaving."

"You're so embarrassing" Schlatt groans to his mum as he grabs your hand, tugging you towards his bedroom door.

"I'm just gonna say one I told you so" she says to Schlatt in a sing song voice as she walks up the stairs "'I don't like her mum' you used to say, but I always knew"

He pulls you into his bedroom as he groans, pushing the door shut as he grumbles "Jesus Christ!"

"She always knew huh?" you say teasingly as you look around his bedroom, stumbling slightly on your wobbly legs. It's a lot different than the last time you've been in here, but you've caught some of his streams before he moved out. It's comfortable, familiar, even though it's changed.

He watches you as you walk around his room, a longing in his chest making it ache. It's been so long since he's really been back, but watching you, move about his space with such familiarity makes him remember just how much you belong, how easily you fit into his life. How much he's missed you.

"I used to hate when she asked about you," he says in a soft voice as he approaches you, gently turning you in his arms as they snake around your waist.

You smile softly as you wrap your hands around his neck, "my family used to do the same."

"I used to get so embarrassed that they thought we were dating," he admits as he raises a hand to your face, cupping it gently as he rubs his thumb across your cheek. You've lost some of the baby fat you still had the last time he saw you, your face now littered with freckles etched into your skin from your time on the West Coast. Your time away from him.

"I did too," you whisper, words slightly slurred still, as you lean into his touch, "I didn't wanna be the kinda person to fall for their best friend... it was so cliche," You breathe as you look up at him, "but everyone knew."

"How was your date?" your mum beams at you as you walks through the door, throwing your shoes and coat off and dumping them on the ground.

You huffs and slink past her into the kitchen, pulling open the fridge and grabbing an apple, the first thing you sees. "It wasn't a date," you remind them as you take a bite of your apple, keeping the fridge door open to cool your suddenly warm cheeks.

"Well how was your not date then?" she says excitedly, attracting the attention of your father who pops his head out of his office.

"How did the date go kiddo?"

"It wasn't a date," you groan as he sits down at the kitchen island, burying your face in your hands.

There's the sound of doors opening and closing upstairs as excited footsteps run to the top of the stairs, "how was your date?" your brother asks. "Is Jay still here?"

All you can do is groan as you feels your face burn, "I don't like him like that."

He nods as he pulls you closer, chest against chest, holding you, "yeah," he whispers as he leans closer, "they knew. I think I knew too."

The vulnerability in his voice makes you wanna cry, the longing in his eyes makes the tears actually well up as all you can do is connect your lips to his. This kiss is passionate and soft, gentle. There's an innocence to this kiss that surprises you both, different to the desperate flurry in the cab. Those young teens that were crushing on each other coming out as if it's the first time you've both kissed anyone. The kiss you both wish had been your first.

You stand there for an eternity, softly kissing, wrapped up in each others arms. Schlatt's grip on your waist is almost bruising as he holds you against him, afraid if he loosens it even slightly you'll vanish from his life again. It feels like a dream, having you in his arms like this, feeling your lips against his. It's something he thought of countless times when he was younger, long nights laying awake yearning for you, too scared to make a move. Too scared to mess it up and ruin everything.

He can't help but deepen the kiss, his need for you growing as he drags his tongue across your lips. You part your lips for him with a gentle hum of pleasure, your hand slipping under his shirt as you do, nails scratching against his stomach ever so slightly and making him shiver.

As he gently pushes his tongue into your mouth, he finds those anxious thoughts coming back, as they did every time he thought about this all those years ago. Your tongue is thick with the taste of alcohol and he suddenly remembers just how drunk you were only 30 minutes ago, stumbling out of the cab. Had you sobered up that much?

He pulls away just slightly, breath heavy against your lips as he hold on you loosens slightly as they drift to hold your hips. He takes in the way you sway slightly as you stand there, the way your hazy eyes flutter open and struggle to concentrate fully on his face. He meets your confused gaze with a look of desire and disappointment etched on his own.

He wants you so badly he feels like it's suffocating him. But he can't like this. You're both too drunk for this, you more so than him. He doesn't wanna ruin the first chance he gets to sleep with you, to have you in all the ways he dreamed of, because you were both drunk. He wants to take his time, show you how good he can be for you, how much you belong together.

He takes a deep, grounding breath as he takes your hand out from under his shirt and intertwines your fingers. "We should get you to bed doll," he whispers as his thumb rubs soft circles on the back of your hand.

He watches your face morph into one of surprise as you stare up at him. He has to look away, he's too weak to keep staring into your pretty doe eyes, wide and sweet staring up at him. "I thought you-"

"You look beat," he says as he forces himself to pull away, his hand still connected with yours as he walks towards his bed.

"Oh," is all you can manage.

The sound of giggles fill the room as you and Schlatt do your best to stifle your laughs. He's got some stupid Youtube video playing that he insisted was the funniest thing he's ever seen, that he just had to show you.

It obviously wasn't. But here the two of you were anyway, lounging in your bed together as you fell apart laughing. By 3am, everything is suddenly the funniest thing in the world.

There's movements outside your bedroom that go totally unnoticed by you both until there's a sharp knock at your door. You fall silent as you stare at Schlatt, both of you with nervous looks written all over your faces.

"Yeah?" you call out, as Schlatt bites his hand to stop himself from laughing again.

"If you two can't be quiet, Jay can't stay the night anymore," the annoyed voice of your father grumbles from the other side of the door.

"No!" you both call out as you sit up straight, scrambling to turn the video off. "No no, dad, we're sorry, we'll go to bed." You say as you turn the lights off, listening to your father grumble to himself as he walks back down the hall.

You lay in silence in your bed for a while, trying to force yourself to go to sleep. "We interrupted the poor guys beauty sleep," Schlatt mumbles next to you, and in an instant you're both falling apart giggling again.

Schlatt has never hated himself more, he thinks as he watches you peacefully sleeping. Here you are, laying in his bed, curled up next to him, looking like a fucking vision. Had he really just turned you down? Why the fuck did he do that?

He can imagine his 16 year old self ready to throttle him if he could go back in time and tell him what just happened, 'oh yeah you finally kissed Y/N, they were practically hanging off you and you sent them to bed.' Maybe he has gone crazy.

He knows he made the right choice, he wanted your first time together to be special, memorable, not just a drunken fuck. The longer he sat there staring at you, the more he thinks maybe he ruined the only chance he would get.

Your confession earlier wasn't really a confession... was it? Could he really rely on you saying that you used to get embarrassed when people thought you were dating as a confession of your current feelings for him. That was nearly 10 years ago now.

He lets out a shaky breath as he looks down at you, watching the way your nose twitches slightly as you sleep, and arm draped across his leg. It feels so right, to have you like this, but fuck if this whole night didn't make him feel sick with anxiety.

[fanzou]

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

Big, Fat, Crush

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

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

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

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

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

ZORO RORONOA

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

“Yeah sure, thanks.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He never does.

-

So…

You end up a little more drunk than anticipated.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He thinks to himself for a moment,

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

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

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

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

“I’ll wait.”

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What?

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

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

Kisses you.

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

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

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

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

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

LAW TRAFALGAR

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

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

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

All except your captain.

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

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

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

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

I’m being such a pervert right now.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I do not!”

“Do too.”

“I don’t!”

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

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

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

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

Law notices, though.

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

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

*Knock Knock*

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

“It’s your captain.”

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

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

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

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

“You left.”

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

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

You disobey.

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

“You leave me no choice.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Maybe all of that was pretty worth it.”

SANJI VINSMOKE

You’ve been avoiding Sanji all week.

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

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

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

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

Can you guess what your secret was?

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

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

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

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

Not to worry, he had a plan.

-

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

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

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

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

And you immediately regretted it.

Above you was Sanji. “Hi.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…

…

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

meanwhile, on the deck

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

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

Robin smirks, and pats Chopper on the head.

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