#12 door lockers

[digitalshree]

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[thewonandonly]

LONGING FOR YOU

PLAYLIST : spotify

PAIRING : pro-baseball player!jaehyun x fem!college student!reader

GENRE : fluff, smut

PROMPT : "if you were my little girl, i'd do whatever i could do, i'd run away and hide with you." au

WC : 15,323 words

WARNINGS : strong language, sports medicine student!reader, reader used to play volleyball, teeny tiny age gap (reader is early 20's, jaehyun is irl age), greek life, jaehyun is implied to be a (former) frat brother (never officially states it), frat party, drinking/alcohol, there is a mention of puke/vomit, mention of overstimulating setting, cameo by yeri :3, mark, and johnny, consent is sexy, protection is hot, lots and lots of praise, BRIEF locker room sexual tension bc i had to, ig it can be considered a kind of sugar daddy au?, jaehyun has no rizz 🗣️, penetration (f), oral (m + f),

AUTHOR'S NOTE : jaehyun military enlistment 😞 jerma helped me write this thats why it took so long. forgive me for the horrendous explicit scene i quite literally have not written full length smut in so long. and also, jaehyun jaehyun jaehyun jaehyun jaehyun jaehyun. :3 that's all.

DISCLAIMER : the characters in this story are to be allusions to real people, and none of the situations, personalities, and actions found here should reflect reality. this story was created with zero intention to violate the images of the artists.

"Come on, come to the party with me!" Yeri groaned, tugging on your arm as if you were her mother and she was your child begging for a toy.

You sighed, rubbing your temples, "I would love to, but I've got work I've gotta do." It was the seventh time — yes, all in one day — where Yeri has asked you to join her at this giant frat party that her friend, Johnny, who happened to be the RA where said party was being held, invited her to. She would've loved to go by herself, but she planned to consume insane amounts of alcohol and would require someone with wonderful bedside manner, i.e. you. 

Yeri groaned, throwing her head back dramatically, "All you do is do your homework." She complained, "I'm sure the wonderful science behind athletic medicine can wait for one night off."

"I'm sorry, Yeri, but my entire scholarship is riding on this." You mumbled, watching Yeri groaned louder, as her head moved forward, trudging her way out your bedroom doorway.

You would be ecstatic to go to some lame party down University Road. You'd love to get drunk, hook up with some dude who is looking to hit. You'd love to take a break, but, unfortunately, your life after you graduate was already starting. You had 29 thousand dollars and two internships invested in your future. If you wanted to be an accredited professional in athletic medicine, you'd have to focus, and not get distracted or discouraged. 

But, then again, you're still young. You're only getting closer to the end, and Yeri is busy with her cheerleading career. You'd rather not lose this connection. Glancing at the clock, you noticed as the second hand tick away, sighing softly. It was thirty to 12. The night was still young.

You turned in your chair, calling to her, a small laugh escaping your lips as she looked at you with eyes that looked as if she was a kicked puppy, "I'll go."

Her face immediately lit up and she smiled, "You will?"

You held up your hands in surrender, standing from your cluttered desk, "You're right, as much as I hate to admit it. The world of medicine can wait."

"I'm so happy right now." She cheered happily, "Okay, I'll let you get ready. I'll take a quick shower and everything." She turned the corner into the hallway and you heard the shower run.

Sighing, you opened your closet door and analyzed the clothes on the hangers. You didn't have any "sexy" outfits, so to speak. Everything was strictly professional clothing, especially considering you had your internships around the corner. But, who could show up to a frat party in high rise, flared dress pants? Maybe it was time to break out the clothes you packed right out of high school. 

Once you tore through the boxes, pulled on the clothes, you could swear they grew tighter, which was normal; you were still growing, in more areas than one. You opted for sticking to the items you chose, for the most risqué look, considering it was a frat party.

Yeri was quick to get in and out of the shower, quick to get her makeup done, and quick to get dressed. You're sure she was going to be quick to get out the door as well.

You leaned against the wall to pull on your shoes, watching Yeri immediately grow frazzled as she struggled to find her keys, which were normally in the catch bowl, but was strategically hug up on the key hook earlier for convenience. 

The trip to the Pi Phi house wasn't far, but the blistering cold wind bit at your nose and cheeks as you and Yeri both walked down the road from your apartment to the frat house.

You both turned the corner, your jaws opening in shock. 

The Pi Phi house was huge, damn near 3 floors. And much to your dismay, it wasn't a new brother of the house at the door, it was two sisters from the Kappa Omega Pi sorority. They seemed nice, letting in quite a few people, until they turned away another girl. 

You looked to Yeri, sighing softly, "I don't think we're gonna get in." The small queue was moving quickly.

Yeri rolled her eyes so far back you were sure they'd get stuck, "Relax. If they don't let us in, I've got an in." She rubbed her hands together, the cold chill in the air slowly building, "God, fuck! It's fucking cold."

"Just don't think about it. We're almost to the front." You mumbled, stepping forward up onto the porch, watching the girl's faces drop at the sight of you after letting two guys inside.

They gave the two of you a once over, exhaling a deep breath through their nose, "It's six bucks to get in."

Yeri pulled out her phone, scoffing, "That's not what it says on the flyer." She turned her phone to the girls, giving a smartalick smirk, "And, besides, I know Johnny." 

The girls looked at each other, chuckling, "You know Johnny?"

Yeri crossed her arms, motioning to the open front door of the frat house, "Go on. Go get him."

One of the girls stepped inside, and walked out in seconds, a tall male peeking his head out, pulling a face at the girl, "Come on, you're really asking if Yeri can come in?" He nodded his head to the two of you. 

Yeri smiled at the girls, waving to them before turning to you and speaking over the music that grew significantly louder as you walked through the crowded hallways, "Those girls were definitely not girls girls."

"Aren't the Kappa Omega Pi sisters like really tightknit with Pi Phi?" You responded, watching your temporary escort split off from the two of you.

"Yeah," Yeri sighed, "Let's not worry about them, though! Let's just have fun!" She immediately turned a corner and you found yourself by your lonesome, squeezing past people with small whispers of "Excuse me's" and "Sorry's" before you finally made your way into the kitchen where it wasn't as crowded, but was definitely still filled with a few people. Pi Phi brothers and Kappa Omega Pi sisters were lined up along a wall where they took pictures together to show their love for their greek life. Your hand moved to grab at a bottle of Michelob Ultra, pouring it into the cup while you stared at the group taking photos. Maybe a social outing wasn't the best idea, considering the setting. You weren't much of a—

"Hey." Someone reached over and set the glass bottle down on the counter, laughing softly, "Your cup." 

You tore your eyes away from where you were staring, glancing down at the cup filled with foam from the beer, "Oh." You mumbled softly, glancing up at the person who was kind enough to take the empty bottle from your hand, "Thanks."

You watched him dump out the foamy beer into the sink, grabbing another plastic cup and beer, slowly pouring it out in front of you, "Here." 

"Thanks." You mumbled out again, grabbing the cup from his outstretched hand. It was dim in the kitchen, much to your dismay, only a string of Christmas lights you weren't sure the brothers ever took down from the passing holiday. You squinted your eyes to try to get a glimpse at who this person was for pouring your drink out. "I recognize you from somewhere."

"Damn, dude, what's taking so long?" A voice spoke over your own, at a much louder octave. He patted the guy on his shoulder, "Gotta celebrate your big game tomorrow."

Your brows pinched together as you assessed the voice, "Mark?" You questioned, your eyes squinting more, almost blinded by your lashes.

The shorter male turned to look at you, "Woah, Y/N, bro, I didn't even know you were here!" He smiled, laughing out loud, "What's up?" He asked.

"You're Pi Phi?" You asked him, waving awkwardly at him, "I didn't know you were part of the greek life."

"I didn't know you were either." Mark laughed again, "Bro, that's crazy. I didn't know you were in a sorority."

The unknown man turned to pour out some drinks, Mark's hand holding onto his shoulder for balance as people shoved their way through. 

"Oh, I'm not." You shook your head, taking a sip of the beer poured into the cup, "Yeri was able to get us in."

"Yeri's here?" Mark began to whip his head around, looking for the mentioned lady, "Dude, I didn't know she'd be here." His hand began to slap at the other's shoulder.

"Guess it's time you get over your fear." The other called to Mark, who grabbed three of the cups in his hand.

"Oh, I completely forgot." He motioned between the three of them, "Uh, Jaehyun, this is Y/N, she's in my athletic science class. The one I was telling you about!" 

The man, now named Jaehyun, waved his free hand at you, "Nice to meet you."

"Man, Y/N's, like, the smartest girl in the class! She knows a lot about that stuff." Mark nudged him, "Maybe once she completes her residency, she can be your primary physician." He teased.

"You play sports?" You questioned, taking another sip of the beer from the cup, "What do you play?"

"Baseball. Nothing too exciting."

"Does he play sports? He's in the ML." Mark seemed more excited about it than Jaehyun was, your smile growing as you saw Jaehyun roll his eyes. "ML means major league." 

"I know what it means, Mark." You laughed, "But, hey, congratulations! It must be nice." You smiled to Jaehyun, "Have you always wanted to play major league?"

Jaehyun shrugged, "Got scouted in high school. Johnny was the one who convinced me to accept it."

Mark laughed, "Well, hey, Y/N, it's nice to see you. If you want, we're gonna be at the couch with everyone." He used his elbow to motion over to the center of the house, "No pressure!"

You nodded, "Yeah, sure. I can help you carry some of the cups." You grabbed two of the cups from the counter in one hand, following the two of them back over to the couch where Johnny, Yeri, and other attendees sat, including the girls from the front door. You squatted slightly to place the cups down on the coffee table, wincing softly as you felt your knee creak.

"You okay?" Jaehyun, who wandered behind you to sit down, asked, his hand lingering on your back as you stumbled.

"Oh, yeah, I'm fine." You laughed awkwardly, sitting down on the couch, "Old injury." You waved it off, taking another drink of your beer.

Mark found a spot next to Yeri, smiling softly as he greeted her and began conversating with her. You glanced at the two, chuckling softly as you watched Mark's cheeks turn pink.

You heard a jumble of words from Jaehyun, turning your head back to him, "What was that?" You leaned closer to him to hear him over the music playing over the subwoofer speakers.

"What from, if you don't mind me asking?" He repeated into your ear, his breath gently fanning across your cheek.

"I used to play volleyball." You shrugged, "Liberio, so, I normally fell on my knees." Your hand found it's way to the cap of your knee, rubbing it with your hand.

"Used to?"

"Yeah. I stopped playing after the injury." You laughed, nodding your head, "But, my doctor was really sweet. She actually helped me to study up until the entrance exam." 

Jaehyun nodded his head, "Well, I know myself and other athletes will be happy for your help." 

You smiled, laughing softly, "I hope." You turned slightly to look at him as he sat back against the couch, his arm resting over the back, "Do you like the major leauge?" Setting down your cup, you looked at him.

Jaehyun shrugged, "It's nice. I've been on a training regimen since I started. I mostly joined just cause I love baseball, though." He smiled, the cup resting in his hand on top of his thigh, "But, I mean, the coach and my teammates are pretty cool. And the pay isn't bad."

"I bet." You chuckled softly, "At least you get to do what you love." You smiled at him.

"How do you-"

"When are you-"

You both spoke over one another, both of you laughing.

Jaehyun motioned to you, "You go first." He reached his hand up to lean his head against it, looking at you.

"I was just gonna ask how you know Johnny and Mark." You shook your head, "I know you said that Johnny encouraged you to accept the scouting offer in high school. But, how'd you meet Mark?"

Jaehyun laughed, his hand reaching up to rub his temples, "Well, it's a pretty funny story." He started, glancing at Mark, who continued to talk Yeri's ear off, "He kinda joined the frat after finding out I was apart of it. I was only apart of it for a month, but, you know, sometimes people just get close."

"Well, if I do say so myself, it seems Mark is ecstatic that he knows you personally." You nodded to Jaehyun.

"I'm glad."

Yeri turned to you quickly, tapping your shoulder, "Hey, Y/N." She called to you, pulling your sight away from Jaehyun to look at her, "Wanna dance?"

You glanced at Jaehyun, and back at her, your mouth open and shutting like a golfish, "I-I really shouldn't... My knee."

Yeri groaned, "Come on! I love this song." She pouted, rubbing her hands together as she silently pleaded.

It was true, she did love this song. God, the amount of times she'd play this song in the car would make you nauseous. And you didn't have much of a choice when she pulled you up from where you were sitting to drag you into the crowd of people dancing to the music.

"How are you and Mark?" You called into her ear, the two of you holding hands as you both lazily danced.

Yeri glanced back at Mark, who was happily comversating with Jaehyun and Johnny, giggling like a little kid before she turned to you, "He's so much fun to talk to." She smiled.

You smiled back, happy to see her happy. "I'm glad." You responded, "Plus, he really likes you. You know he can't hide his feelings well." You glanced back at the three, glancing at your feet as you caught Jaehyun's eye.

Your friend smirked, laughing softly, "Oh, I see what's going on." She nudged your shoulder, which you rubbed with your hand as you looked at her, "You've got the hots for number 16." Yeri teased.

"What?" Your voice came out slightly higher, considering the assumption, "No, no." You shook your head, "I just met him."

"Doesn't mean you can't find him hot." She nudged you again, "Johnny told me he was expecting him to come tonight." She pulled out her phone, opening the tab of her browser to show you the search. "Jung Jaehyun, major league pitcher." In the middle of the crowd, you glanced between the phone and the man who sat on the couch, "Number 16." Yeri's finger clicked on a photo of Jaehyun, the front of the jersey embroidered with big red letters that read, "Sentinels".

"Wow." It's all you could say. You knew Mark said he was in major league, but you didn't think that major. You were thinking maybe small hometown baseball that made it big. "He even has a trading card?"

Yeri nodded, locking her phone before putting it back in her pocket, "He's big." She nodded her head, "Professional Sentinels player, going on his fourth year with the team."

You were flabbergasted. No wonder Mark was so excited telling you.

Standing there, you thought for a second, "If he's so big, why isn't anyone freaking out about him being here?" You raised an eyebrow.

Yeri raised her own brow, "You'll be surprised how many athletics students don't watch athletics." She hummed, nodding her head at her own statement.

"Okay, well, now that you told me this, I'll just feel like a gold digger." You rubbed your neck shyly, completely unaware the end of the song just as another one kicked up.

"Shut up." She scrunched up her face again, grabbing your hand to lead you back to the couch where you both were previously sat, "You're fine. You're nothing like a gold digger."

"Welcome back!" Johnny called, motioning to the couch.

Yeri sat the both of you down, smiling at Mark as soon as she got comfortable, taking the cup from his hand to take a sip.

You sat down, Jaehyun to your right and Yeri to your left. 

Jaehyun's whole hand covered the top of the cup he held, slowly passing it to you, "I held onto your drink while you were gone." He smiled.

"Oh, thank you." You nodded to him, taking a small swig of the drink, glancing at him shyly.

He wore much more lax clothing; a black long sleeved shirt and black cargo pants, various rings along his fingers and a silver necklace with an charm you couldn't quite see as it was flipped over. You glanced away, watching Jaehyun smile softly as you took another sip.

"What?" You questioned, blushing softly as he continued to stare.

"Nothing. Nothing." He mumbled, "Just... don't drink too much." 

You smiled softly, setting the now empty cup down on the table, "Don't worry. I normally only have one drink and I'm done." You sat back on the couch, looking at him.

You both sat there for a second, not saying anything. Jaehyun would glance over the back of the couch every once in a while, meeting the hands of other members of Greek life, making small conversations with them, or even sharing a few laughs as they conversed. Sometimes Johnny or Mark would join in.

Slowly, you felt your social battery slowly drain, and you whispered to Yeri to share where you'd be going; outside, in the expansive, empty backyard of the frat house, away from the music, crowds and smell of alcohol in the air.

You sighed softly as you relaxed against a chair in the backyard, glancing down at your phone to slowly recharge your own battery.

Yet, it seemed like despite being away, your thoughts and fingers lingered back to Jaehyun, typing his name across the keyboard into the search bar.

There were articles about him, fan pages, compilation videos of some of his pitches and plays. Professional photos and fan captures. He really was larger than life. 

The baseball uniform he wore was clean and pristine aside from the red dirt across the left side of his body, and after much digging, you found out that after batting, he'd reach a base by sliding. 

You found yourself diving headfirst into doom scrolling about Jaehyun, his career, what people thought about him. His record with the team was clean, and his ability was impressive. He was often claimed as MVP of his team, giving them several wins in their games.

The sliding door opening was enough to have you scrambling to lock your phone and set it down in your lap. You glanced behind you, finding it was nothing more than another guest at the frat party, gagging as they turned the corner to spill their guts. 

You pulled a face, standing up to move back inside to the party, the sudden smell of puke and alcohol mixing making you feel sick, mixing together just as you opened the door to step back inside. 

You recharged your social battery just enough to continue talking before Yeri wanted to leave, yet it dropped right back down again as the smell settled around you. Did it always smell like sweat? Did the floor always feel sticky? Did the counters have all those cups on them? 

Everything felt so overwhelming.

"Hey, are you okay?" 

It's the second time that voice has asked you if you were feeling okay. You pull your eyes away from looking at the scene before you to look at Jaehyun, whose eyes were softened.

"I was just about to check on you." He mumbled.

"I'm okay." You took a deep breath in, slowly exhaling, "It's a little overwhelming in here." 

"Yeah." Jaehyun chuckled, letting him step behind you to slowly guide you away from the big group of people, "Here. This way you can get the best of both worlds." Jaehyun leaned beside you against the wall close to the front door, holding the brim of his plastic cup with his fingers, glancing around at the group as it only grew bigger.

"Thank you." You whispered, crossing your legs as you leaned against the wall, "Hey, so, I know Mark said you were in major league, and... Yeri kinda showed me the google search about you."

Jaehyun laughed softly, "Yeah." He rubbed the back of his neck, "Sentinels."

"Yeah." You nodded, looking at him, "Must be cool going places and getting recognized." 

He shrugged, "I mean, it's all the same. Often times people don't know it's me without a cap or a batting helmet." Jaehyun nodded, "It is pretty cool having a trading card, though." He smiled to you, turning to look at you.

"I saw that! Did you see how much someone's willing to pay for a signed one?" You chuckled.

"Yeah, I did." He laughed too, "Can't believe someone has that much money to spend on a piece of paper. Especially when I started not too long ago."

"Well, I mean, you do get that type of money." You nudged him, feeling your uneasiness quickly disappearing as you spoke to him.

Jaehyun shook his head, "Most of it goes to bills and taxes." A group of some Pi Pho frat brothers pushed by, forcing Jaehyun into you, his arm above your head to make sure he didn't crush you, "Jesus fu- Christ." He didn't finish the swear, glancing at you, "Are you okay?" He glanced at the people sprinting by, one slipping and dropping their cup of alcohol.

"I'm fine." You whispered, "Fine."

Jaehyun leaned his arm on the wall, right above your head. His face was close enough to see the details. He smelt good — like rose and ember; so much so that it was intoxicating. His dimples and his eyes as he smiled, the faint stubble along his chin and his upper lip. The necklace hanging from his neck, the emblem still flipped backwards; you were beginning to think he put it on backwards for it to face away from others. As you appreciated his features you realized that perhaps he was sculpted from marble by Michelangelo himself. 

The faint smell of alcohol from his red solo cup and a puddle of the spilled liquor from the brothers swirled around the both of you. The song changed beat and volume, glancing around the corner to find Johnny turning up the dial, the bass nearly blowing out your eardrums.

"Don't you have a game tomorrow?" You spoke into his ear over the music, feeling your heart flutter as he turned his head slightly so you didn't have to move much.

He chuckled, shrugging, "It's kinda tradition to visit before a game." He responded, his lips gently brushing against your cheek as he spoke.

You nodded as he moved back to his position, smiling at him, "So, do you always linger around the university or...?"

"No," He shook his head, and you can see the liquid courage glossing his eyes, "But, I mean, if I got to find someone as beautiful as you, maybe it's not a bad idea." Someone nudged behind him, causing him to straighten up with his chest hitting your own. He had you pressed flush against the wall, but he obviously wasn't focused on that as he glanced behind him, "A lot of energy for you students." He laughed as he looked back at you, "Must be nice to be young."

You laughed, smiling at him, "Aren't you only 27?"

"Well, yeah, but..." He playfully rolled his neck over his shoulders, "At some point in time, these old bones have to rest."

"And you decided to do that at an old frat house with a bunch of newly turned 21 year olds?"

He shrugged again, "Better than the old farts in the league." He glanced around the party, noticing multiple of the attendees either drinking to their restless end, making out with some of the bubbly blonde sorority sisters or passed out on the ground, table or couch. He noticed Mark talking up a storm with Yeri, and Johnny handing out more drinks to guests, "But, you're right. Wanna head out?"

"Yo-you wanna leave with me?" You stammered.

He laughed, "Yeah!" He smiled, his dimples making an appearance once more, "How rare is it that I meet a beautiful woman here among all these girls?"

You blushed at his compliment, smiling before nodding your head, "Yeah. Yeah, let's head out." You stood up straight, Jaehyun pushing away from the wall, "Let me just let Yeri know where I'm gonna be at." You stepped around him, making your way over to the couch where Yeri sat, "Yeri." You tapped her shoulder, and when she didn't turn around you called her again, "Yeri!"

"What?" She turned to you, "Is something wrong?"

"I'm heading out." You spoke into her ear, "With Jaehyun."

Yeri smirked, nudging your shoulder, "Come on, stop messing with me." She laughed.

"I'm not messing with you!" You chuckled, "Hey, you have my location, and maybe I'll be back tonight, most likely tomorrow morning." You gave Mark a wave as you made your way down the hallway once more.

"Use protection!" She called loudly as you walked off, continuing her conversation with Mark. 

You made your way back to where you and Jaehyun were standing previously, catching sight of Jaehyun in the kitchen, bidding Johnny farewell with a one-armed hug and an untraditional handshake. The two were laughing as they both finished up their conversation, Jaehyun walking straight towards you, "You ready?"

"Yeah. I'm ready."

Jaehyun took your hand in his own, guiding you out of the frat house. The silence of the night was a comforting contrast to the loud frat party you were both victims of attending. The rustle of the leaves, the sound of wind whistling. It was the only sounds you could hear as your ears adjusted to the noise disappearing. 

The street lamps gave you better sight of Jaehyun's figure. His arms were ripped, to say the least. He had veins crawling up from his hand to his elbow, and his hand was a little rough, calloused skin from swinging baseball bats for a lifetime. 

The two of you approached a fairly new car, but still a few years behind the recent model. Jaehyun unlocked the door, and pulled open the passenger side.

"Thanks." You whispered, settling into the seat. You slowly buckled in the seatbelt, Jaehyun gently closing the door just as the realization just set in that you were in the car with a national professional athlete. The butterflies began to fly from your stomach into your throat, and you were worried if you even spoke that you'd just embarrass yourself.

Jaehyun climbed into the driver's seat, sighing softly as he reached up to stick the key into the ignition, "Sorry. I didn't expect to bring anyone back with me, so, I brought my less inconspicuous car." He chuckled softly.

"No, no! It's fine. I mean, you're already one step ahead of me. I don't even have a license, so, I have no right to judge." You matched his chuckle, smiling at him. "Besides, there's something more humble about an old 2008 Honda Civic." 

Jaehyun let the car warm up for a second before he pulled off from the curb, his hand lingering on the stick shift, his foot lingering on the clutch. 

You began to admire his hands once more. He had slender fingers, his wrist was adorned by a silver cuban link bracelet, another vein wrapping around his arm and ending at his bicep. You could tell he's worked out, but not too much. I mean, he is a professional athlete for a living, so him working out wasn't much of a surprise. Just as he stopped at a stop light, you pulled your eyes from his form and glanced out the window. 

The both of you drove through the heart of the city, your eyes catching the bright lights as you stared at the window. It was a nice difference from University Road. The quiet melody of music played from the radio, filling the tense silence between the two of you. Jaehyun clearly kept the car in good shape. There were zero stains on the seating, the steering wheel and bulb of the stick shift were a little worn from where his hands rested, the radio seemed intact.

Jaehyun continued to drive, clearing his throat, "You can change the channel, if you'd like to." He motioned to the radio, before he quickly downshifted, "I have a bunch of CD's in the glove box."

You took the initiative to open the glove box, smiling to yourself as you saw the CD case, unzipping and opening it. You weren't sure if you were smiling because he seemed like such an old soul for keeping CD's for his older car, or because it looked like the CD's were all in alphabetical order. "Crazy Town?" You questioned teasingly.

There was a slight tint at the shell of Jaehyun's ear, chuckling, "What can I say? They're revolutionary." He looked into his mirror and over his shoulder as he switched lanes, glancing over at you as he saw you eyeballing him, "What?"

"Just never took you for one who enjoyed rock music like this." You continued to flip through the CD case, seeing various discs of music; including, but not limited to rock, pop, hip hop and r&b. There were more genres that you didn't really recognize and you tried to read the fine print to see if they printed it, but no luck. "I think it's definitely fair to say you listen to every genre."

Jaehyun chuckled, watching you insert the Crazy Town CD into the reader, his hand quickly moving to turn down the volume, "I just listen to music. Genre doesn't matter to me."

You smiled to yourself, slowly turning the volume up as the CD started playing. The silence felt less tense now as the music played between the both of you. Given the circumstances, you needed the tension to die down. 

You looked out the window, not recognizing the area you were in very well, but you definitely recognized the giant building on the side of the road; two tall buildings beside each other, the sign reading "The Hallows".

Jaehyun took a very gentle left turn into the roundabout, stopping right in the middle as he climbed out and passed the keys to his 2008 Honda Civic to the valet. 

"You live... here?" You questioned, staring up at the buildings.

Jaehyun chuckled, grabbing your hand in his, "Yeah." He smiled, "It's pretty nice. Out of the way." He guided you into the lobby of the building, and you were even more awestruck.

Everything in the lobby were either expensively vintage or expensively new. They even had a couch you would see frequently in a magazine you glanced over while you waited in line at the supermarket. A couch you could only dream of purchasing. For this condo — penthouse, seems more likely — complex to have 4 sets of a couch that only the richest people can afford already told you what to expect.

Jaehyun greeted the front desk attendant, calling the elevator for the two of you, his hand holding yours gently. 

A small chime was heard just as the doors to the lift open, and he motioned for you to step inside. You took a step in, glancing at every corner, making eye contact with the camera. 

Jaehyun sighed softly, clicking the floor button as he stepped inside, stopping just beside you. "Sorry if this makes you all uncomfortable." He started, "I realize now just how awkward it might be to show up here. Like I'm showing off."

"No, no, it's not your fault! You make your money the same way I do, you're allowed to spend it where you please." You smiled, "And sometimes where you please to spend it is at a gigantic apartment building, and that's okay." 

Jaehyun chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck, "I'm just enjoying your company so much, I don't wanna scare you away."

You smiled to yourself, messing with your fingers as you glanced down at your feet, "I'm enjoying your company, too." You chuckle, "A lot."

Jaehyun smiled brightly as the elevator doors opened once more, and grabbed your hand back in his own as he guided you down the hallway, swinging your intertwined hands as he walked. His free hand grabbed his keys and skillfully unlocked the door, allowing you to step inside.

Which you agreed to, and you were met with a large condo, with a window large enough to span across the wall of his condo. The skyline was bright enough to light up the wall straight across from it. There was a giant kitchen, a giant living room. The whole place was giant. 

Jaehyun tossed his keys into a catch bowl by the front door, flicking on the lights.

"It's..." You paused as you continued to take in the sights, "It's beautiful."

"Yeah, my... Johnny and Mark kinda got a little excited with an interior designer and they decorated it like crazy."

You smiled, taking off your shoes to set them to the side before you took a step further. "Did you always have the idea to have an open floor plan?"

"Well, no, but like I said, Johnny and Mark got excited." Jaehyun chuckled, "Gave me a bachelor's pad when I'm hardly even a bachelor."

"Live while you're young." You whispered to yourself as you admired the city line. Jaehyun stopped beside you, but his eyes lingered on your reaction, which he was generally pleased to see.

Jaehyun cleared his throat, his fingers pulling at the cuff of his long sleeved shirt, "So, Mark told me a lot about you." He started.

"Did he mention how I let him cheat off my papers?" You teased, turning to look at Jaehyun.

"No, no, nothing like that." Jaehyun laughed, shaking his head, "But, he did show me your SNS accounts." 

"Oh, that's embarrassing."

"I think you looked amazing." Jaehyun whispered back almost immediately, "But, you look more amazingin person."

"It seems like we both looked up each other."

Jaehyun shrugged, "That's why I wasn't as upset when you did it." He smiled, "Where was I going with this?" He mumbled to himself, "Mark really talked me up for this." 

The tension between you both returned. And it wasn't an awful tension. It was tension that was telling you that obviously something was going to happen. You didn't know how long or what Mark said to him, but you couldn't help but thank Mark for whatever length of time he's been talking to Jaehyun about you.

Jaehyun cleared his throat again, feeling like all the words he prepared for this moment had disappeared from his mind. His eyes that were once watching you turned to look out the window where you were looking previously.

"You don't have to force yourself." You whispered, smiling at him. 

Jaehyun smiled back, turning to look at the couch, "Come on, let's sit down." He sat down on the leather couch, and you could notice he was in his element.

You followed, sitting beside him. 

"You didn't have to come here if you weren't comfortable." He started, his hand finding your own, "I know it's pretty awkward to get picked up at a frat party, and I never meant to put you in a position where you didn't think you could say no."

"Oh, I didn't think of it like that." You chuckled, "Trust me, if I wanted to say no, I would've." 

Jaehyun leaned a little closer, drawing his bottom lip in with his teeth, "Can I kiss you?"

God, you've been waiting for that question all night. Nodding your head, you smiled as Jaehyun's lips pressed against yours. The hands you have been admiring for the last 30 minutes during the car ride were now placed on your hips as he attempted to pull you closer until you were practically on his lap. He tasted of Heinekien beer, and spearmint, and you began to question when and where did he get gum or mouth spray from. Despite the mix, his lips were soft, and they were tender against your own.

Jaehyun pulled away slowly after a moment of kissing you, his hands lingering on your waist, his eyes opening to look into your own.

You both shared a small laugh, a lingering peck placed on his lips.

"You don't know how long I've wanted to do that." Jaehyun whispered, letting a sigh escape his lips.

Glancing at your phone's time, you chuckled, "Can't be anymore than 2 hours." You teased, "But, if it's any consolation, I've been thinking about it too."

Jaehyun rolled his eyes, "You really aren't aware of how much Mark's been trying to set me up with you." He whispered.

"Is that so?" You raised an eyebrow, "How long?"

Jaehyun sighed, running a hand through his hair, "Months, at least." He leaned his head against the back of the couch, the hair he pushed back falling back into his eyes, "He's been trying to set me up with you for the longest. Johnny, too."

You rolled your eyes, "You're telling me that tonight was one giant ploy to get us to finally meet?"

"No, no, definitely not. That was a frat party, through and through. But, I'm happy we could've met there." Jaehyun gently grabbed your hand, pressing soft kisses to your fingers.

"Are you always this romantic?" 

"Only with people I actually have feelings for."

"And that implies that there's people that you have had feelings for."

Jaehyun chuckled, "It does. But, none of them were you." He smiled, intertwining his fingers with your own. You looked at the size of his hand compared to yours, the length of his fingers compared to yours. Jaehyun had height, and his hands definitely matched that; slender fingers, thick veins, soft skin. His nails were well kept too, considering what he did for a living.

His words repeated in your head, and you had to stop yourself from smiling. To be desired and admired for that long, with nothing but Mark's words and your social media posts to hold him over. 

"Why didn't you just follow me and talk to me?" You chuckled, watching him kiss your hand and wrist.

"It's not like I have a personal account. I only have my professional one for work." He whispered softly, "Plus, I had to see if you were interested first. I'm not good at that over text." 

You rolled your eyes, "Excuses."

Jaehyun chuckled, "Maybe a little. I just didn't want to swing and miss." He smiled, "I have an idea." He sat a little closer, his fingers playing with your own again, "Why don't you come to the game tomorrow? I have one pass left."

"I don't know a single thing about baseball." 

"That's fine." He smiled, "I'm not expecting you to figure out the miles per hour of my fastball. I just... I think I'd do better with you there." 

"Who else is gonna be there?"

"Johnny, Mark, and your friend. Mark wanted to show off." Jaehyun's dimples made another appearance, and you couldn't help your heart racing behind your ribcage. "You don't have to say yes, but I'll be happy if you were there."

You thought for what felt like minutes, but in reality, it was nothing but seconds, "Yeah. I think it'd be fun."

"Unless we totally lose." He chuckled, "My only excuse would be that I was too distracted by you."

"Are you always this cheesy?" You smiled, shaking your head.

Jaehyun met your smile with his own, "I can be." He shrugged.

"It's cute." You whispered, "I'd love to see you play, Jaehyun."

Jaehyun was physically fighting his excitement, giving another shy smile, "Great. Great." He chuckled, squeezing your hand. "If that's the case, we should probably head to bed then. We've gotta be up early if we wanna make it in time."

"Right." Your hand reaches for your phone in your back pocket, and you open your contacts, getting ready to call a taxi to pick you up, "I can get a cab ride home."

"I was thinking..." He locked your phone, "Maybe you could spend the night here." He whispered shyly. 

"Oh." You thought for a second, "Oh!" 

Jaehyun chuckled, "Doesn't have to be anything more than innocent, if that's what you want." He stood up from the couch, your hand lingering in his. "Come on, I have some clothes you can wear."

"Please don't tell me you're gonna dress me up like Adam Sandler." You stood up, letting him guide you down the long hallway to his — once again — gigantic bedroom. The lighting was dim, and you would've thought he had the lights on the entire day if it wasn't for the sound of the switch flipping. There was a bay window adjacent to the bed set of velvety black duvet, sheets and dark stained bed frame. 

Jaehyun let you linger by the door while he wandered off to somewhere around the corner, only to return with a red dirt stained baseball jersey and a pair of sweats you were sure weren't going to fit you. "Here you go."

You snapped back from admiring his bedroom to grab the clothes, smiling at him, "Did you wash this?"

Jaehyun nodded, "Red dirt stains. Only way to get it out is power washing." 

"Good enough for me." You laughed, "Where should I change?"

"Oh! Right, right." He stepped behind you to guide you by your shoulders to the double bathroom, "You can change in here." He looked at you through the mirror, smiling softly, "And, if you aren't comfortable with us sleeping in the same bed, I can always take the guest room."

"You have a guest room, too?" You chuckled, setting the spare clothes he gave you on the counter.

"Yeah. The bed isn't as comfortable in there as it is in here, though." Jaehyun continued to watch you through the mirror before he turned his eyes away and walked out of the bathroom, "I'll let you get changed." He nodded, shutting the door behind him.

You took a little longer to admire the bathroom, your fingers running across the granite counter, the big mirror and the nice black sinks. He had a walk-in shower, lined with dark grey tile. You peeked around the sliding door to the shower, catching sight of a shower ledge where the occupant could sit. 

You smiled to yourself before you turned to start changing your clothes, pulling on the clothes Jaehyun was nice enough to offer. It smelled like him. And they were nice and soft.

You folded up the clothes you wore to the party, setting them to the side of the sink closest to the door, gently opening the door.

Jaehyun sat on the edge of the bed, standing up as soon as you stepped out, "Hey."

"Hi."

"They look better on you than on me." Jaehyun chuckled softly, blushing a soft pink, pushing his hair back with his hand, "I knew they would."

You raised an eyebrow, chuckling softly, "Is this your way of saying you wanna see me wear your clothes more often?"

"Yes, definitely." He wore clear framed glasses, andyou could swear you saw them fogging up from the blush growing on his cheeks. "I definitely want to see you in my clothes more often." He grabbed your hand in his own, squeezing it gently.

"We'll see." You teased, squeezing his hand back.

Jaehyun smiled, "Did you think... about...?" He pointed at the bed, silently asking. 

"If you want me to, I can sleep in the guest room." You started, "I mean, it's your bedroom. I am a guest."

"I have no issue sleeping in the guest room. The whole bed thing... that was a joke." Jaehyun cleared his throat, obviously tense. "The mattress in the other room is just the right amount of soft and stiff."

You had to stifle the laugh that threatened to leave. "Jaehyun, really, I don't have an issue sleeping in the guest room."

He nodded his head, "Okay, okay." He smiled awkwardly, "But, really, I wouldn't mind if you stayed in here with me. Just put this whole thing behind us." He laughed.

"Hm, that might be easier." You continued to hold his hand as you sat on the edge of the bed, "As long as you promise to not crush me."

"Don't worry. I sleep like a log. Fall asleep in one position, wake up in the morning in the same." He held up his hands in defense, "I also promise to try to keep my hands to myself."

"Haha." You laughed sarcastically, sitting him beside you.

"I'm just kidding. I'll keep my hands to myself if you want me to." He nudged you, intertwining your fingers together.

"And if I don't?"

Jaehyun raised an eyebrow again, glancing at you, "Then I won't."

You smiled, "Sounds like a plan." You let go of his hand to crawl up to the head of the bed, laying on your side as you rested on a pillow.

"What? Like you not wanting me to keep my hands to myself or...?"

You laughed, "Just come lay down. It's already almost 3am and you said we have to be up early, didn't you?" 

Jaehyun took off his glasses, setting them down on the bedside table, laying down on the pillow next to yours, a soft smile on his face. 

☆

You aren't sure when you fell asleep, and you definitely weren't sure about how you ended up with Jaehyun's arm over your hip, the alarm clock beside his bed blaring the god sound of the "Apex" ring tone. You slowly sat up, rubbing your eye and running your hand through your hair. You took a second to remember the scene of Jaehyun's bedroom before your eyes, turning your head to admire him. You were aware how odd it felt that you were allowing yourself to lay beside him in his bed, wearing his clothes. You weren't sure why you were doing this. 

You tried to convince yourself it was the alcohol you had the night before but you weren't even tipsy, let alone drunk. You could feel the butterflies flutter in your stomach as you thought about the night before, studying his face as he slept. You wondered how many people would kill to see this view. 

"Jaehyun." You whispered, leaning against your hand, brushing some hair from out of his face. 

"Hmm?" He grumbled, obviously half asleep.

"It's 8 a.m." You responded gently, quietly trying to coerce him out of his slumber, "We're gonna be late, Jaehyun."

Jaehyun groaned, pulling his arm back to his chest as he sat up and pressed the stop button on his home screen. He sighed, pulling his legs out of the covers so they could touch the ground. 

Some moment throughout the night, Jaehyun obviously pulled on a large white t-shirt and sweats, expelled the shirt from his body (evident by the white t-shirt thrown at the foot of the bed), and went to sleep. 

His back was muscular, his shoulder blades prominent as he stretched his arms above his head and in front of him. His fingers wiped at his eyes before he pulled on his glasses and stood up to stretch further.

"Did you sleep well?" He asked gruffly, turning to look at you, "I hope I didn't hog the bed too much."

You fought with your eyes as they wanted to linger on the happy trail below his belly button, settling on shutting your eyes as you smiled at him, "It was perfect, Jaehyun."

The sound of rustling sheets made you open your eyes to find Jaehyun on all fours, his face impossibly closer to you, "Good." He whispered, using a hand to pinch your chin with his thumb and index finger, "I've been thinking about kissing you again since last night."

Your cheeks turned red, and your heart raced in your chest. "Why didn't you do something about it earlier then?"

"You looked too beautiful sleeping." He smiled, "But, if you'll allow me, I'd like to do something about it now."

You smiled, "I'll allow it."

Jaehyun chuckled, cupping your cheek to press a kiss against your lips. His lips were still as soft as they were the night before, his hands gently as his thumb rubbed across the skin of your cheek. Despite it feeling like minutes, it was only seconds in reality until Jaehyun pulled away.

"Can I consider that my good luck kiss for tonight?" He asked softly. 

"Yeah." You chuckled, "And if you win, I'll maybe consider giving you a victory kiss as well."

"Sweet." He nodded, moving back to climb off the bed, making his way to the bathroom, "I'm gonna take a quick shower."

"Alright."

"I'll be back."

"'Kay." You smiled as he stepped into the bathroom and shut the door, immediately reaching over to the nightstand to grab your phone. 

You don't know what you were thinking staying the night when you didn't even have a change of clothes. You sent Yeri a quick text asking her to grab you a set of clothes, anything would do. Especially something warm. 

You can tell she agreed when she started calling you on Facetime, which you answered.

"How was it?" She asked as soon as the call connected.

"What do you mean?" You asked, turning down the volume as you sat back against the headboard.

Yeri rolled her eyes, sitting up in her own bed, "Come on, share all the details." Her screen switched to "Paused" and you could only assume that she was scrolling either on Instagram or Tw- "Holy shit! You're at the Hallows?"

"Yeah, that's the name of the building."

"Y/N, how out of touch are you?" Yeri started, her face returning to the screen, "The Hallows is where all the famous people live, like Lee Jongsuk and Seo Inguk."

"Well, if you're asking, no, I haven't seen anyone." You started, "The lobby looked expensive, though."

"I've gotta see this!" She stood up, "Okay, tell me what outfit you want then I'll head there."

Yeri entered your room at your shared apartment, opening your closet and turning the camera to show you different shirts, pants and other fabrics. You both took about 30 minutes of the call deciding on a good outfit, before you both settled on something.

"I'll be there in a few. What should I do when I get there?" Yeri asked, folding the clothes neatly into a bag.

"I can grab the clothes from you in the lobby." You nodded, "I'll see you when you get here."

"Bye. Love you."

"Love you, Yeri." You responded before ending the call. 

You heard the shower water come to a stop, and you fully expected Jaehyun to walk out of the bathroom but you sat there, staring at the door as he stood behind it. 

A text from Yeri came through your phone and you stood up, making a slow trek to the front door, which you opened and closed behind you. You remembered the door number, and the floor number, and you memorized the button you'd have to press to get back up. You suddenly felt awkward to even walk down into the lobby wearing Jaehyun's clothes, but the awkwardness melt away as you saw the area empty. Yeri was the only one there, recording herself for her Instagram story. 

She was too absorbed in recording the lobby that when you stood in front of her as the camera panned to you, she jumped, a yelp getting cut off just as she released the button. "Jesus, you scared the crap out of me." She said through a laugh, patting your shoulder. 

"Do I look that bad?" You questioned, grabbing the clothes from her hand.

"No, you don't look bad. You know me." She chuckled, I brought you some extra shoes too, so you don't have to worry about wearing the ones from yesterday." 

"You're awesome."

"It's really nice in here." She started, looking around the lobby, "I almost feel too broke to be here." 

You ran your finger over the clothes, chuckling, "I felt the same." You smiled, "So, how'd it go last night with Mark?" 

Yeri smiled to herself, "Well, I think it went wonderfully." She paused, playing with her keyring, "He asked if I wanted to come with him to Jaehyun's game today." 

"I heard." You laughed, "At least you'll have me to play wingman."

"You're coming too?" She smiled, "Awesome! Now I don't have to be so nervous." 

You laughed, "I've gotta get ready. Jaehyun's already in the shower and everything." You gave her a hug, "Get back safe."

"Text me if anything new happens!"

"Same with you." You called the elevator, watching her walk back out to her car, where you're sure she'd play her song of the week over and over until she got tired of it.

You retraced your steps as you stepped into the elevator, thinking of the night before as Jaehyun clicked the floor button to get you up to his place. The elevator stalled, then moved upwards. 

You felt the same butterflies in your stomach as you rode the elevator up, smiling to yourself as you glanced down at the clothes you held in your arms.

Could you even begin to consider this a date? You thought to yourself, It could be considered nothing more than just visiting Jaehyun's workplace. 

As the elevator stopped, you made your way down the hallway and stopped right outside Jaehyun's front door. You knocked on the door, waiting patiently for him to open the door. Which he opened, to him wearing nothing more than black sweatpants around his waist, his hair dripping droplets down his collarbones. 

"Hi." You looked at him.

"Hey." He chuckled, "I thought you left."

You shook your head, "Without my shoes?"

"Good point." He opened the door a bit wider for you to step inside, which you did.

"Yeri just brought me some clothes to wear for today." You motioned to the folded clothes in your arms.

"That's nice of her." Jaehyun smiled, "You can use the bathroom to change if you'd like." He closed the door, "I'm making something to eat as well."

You nodded, making your way to the bathroom in the hallway, quickly changing into the outfit Yeri and yourself picked out through the video call. It looked almost as nice as you thought when you imagined it. Sure, the black shirt was darker than the washed out black pants, but you think that added to the charm. You folded up the clothes Jaehyun offered the night before on top of the washing machine in the bathroom, slowly opening the door into the hallway once more. 

It smelled of maple syrup and coffee, and you took a seat at the island in Jaehyun's kitchen as you watched him cook. It was simple breakfast food; bacon, eggs and some rice. You spot the coffeepot brewing, the soft sound of the java hitting the glass pot. Jaehyun seems to have taken a step away from the kitchen to pull on a shirt to wear. 

"Thank you." You whispered softly as he set a plate down in front of you of the food, taking a bite of the bacon. 

Jaehyun smiled at you, taking a seat beside you as he started to eat his meal with you as well. It was silent, save for the water used to make the coffee coming to an abrupt halt. It wasn't an uncomfortable silence, not at all. It was comfortable. Like sitting in silence together was comforting enough. 

As soon as you both finished, Jaehyun cleaned up, poured himself a quick cup of coffee after offering — which you respectfully decline, "trying to cut back," you'd joke — and grabbed the bags by the door that you didn't notice earlier. A giant duffle back, and a backpack that looked like it's been through Hell and back, littered with handwriting, even some quips from Mark and Johnny. You joined him in The Heights spacious garage, climbing into the newest Genesis model as he opened the door for you after he shoved his bags into the backseat. 

Throughout the car ride, as his phone connected to Bluetooth and changed through the songs, Jaehyun would grab your hand every once in a while, not paying much attention to it as he drove to the stadium. You didn't bother moving your hand. 

Jaehyun pulled into the back of the stadium, parking his car in some obscure area and helped you out. There were news tabloids, sports enthusiasts and paparazzi everywhere, and you felt your heart racing in your throat. But Jaehyun made quickly to avoid them, pulling you in front of him as he stepped through the door before the cameras started flashing. All you saw before it shut was a blinding flash.

Jaehyun sighed softly, adjusting the bag over his shoulder, "This is where we split off." He whispered.

You felt upset. You spent nearly the last 12 hours with him and for him to split off from you now for who knows how long felt so weird. You could tell you grew attached to him.

"Hey," Jaehyun chuckled, "The game doesn't start until 6:30, you've got the rest of the day to chill." His hand trailed down your arm before he grabbed your hand.

"I know." You chuckled, "I do have some homework I was planning to finish from last night, so I could do that while I wait."

Jaehyun smiled, "Great." He rubbed his thumb against the back of your hand, "Come on, I'll show you where you'll sit when the game starts." He began walking, silently passing you his jacket and let you sit down in the front row of the seats, watching as the field attendants chalked the dirt, and maintained the advertisements against the barriers. 

Jaehyun walked off after you sat down, giving you a wave as he walked off to where he needed to go.

You didn't realize how focused on your schoolwork you were until you felt the cold breeze and the loud chatter of other attendees. The stadium lights were turned on and the field attendants you saw hours ago were no longer there. You shifted uncomfortably in your seat as people push by your legs; unsure whether you should stand up from the chair to let people through or pull them up to your chest. You pulled on the coat Jaehyun had given to you earlier around your shoulders, waiting patiently by yourself for the other three guests to arrive. 

And when they did, you smiled up at them.

"Yo, Y/N, what's up?" Mark gave you a headnod, sitting on a seat only one away from you. Yeri and Johnny followed behind Mark. Your best friend taking the seat right beside you.

Johnny sighed, "You guys are gonna make the tallest, lankiest guy push through you all?" You could tell he wasn't irritated, clearly making a small joke as he stepped over your feet to sit in the seat beside Mark. He sat down with a sigh, adjusting the jacket over his shoulders.

Mark and Johnny shared a quip with one another, Mark sharing a boisterous laugh like he always did. 

Yeri nudged you, smiling sweetly, "So, what have you been doing while waiting for the entertainment to return?" She asked.

You held up your phone, the word document plastered on the screen, "Homework."

"Like always." She sighed, "You look nice."

"Thanks." You smiled, quickly saving the document before you shoved the phone in the pocket of Jaehyun's jacket.

You and the trio all spoke to one another, talking about school, interests and other things to fill the time before you caught sight of the teams walking through their thresholds.

Attendants around you all began to share chants of their respective teams, some going as far to shout out jeering taunts to fans of the away team.

Johnny and Mark seemed familiar with this, standing from their seats and clapping as the teams prepared with their coaches for the game.

You caught sight of Jaehyun laughing, the mit around his hand worn and clearly aging. He looked around the stands, waving to fans before he stopped and glanced at you, giving a small wave and shy smile. 

The crowd exploded with a loud cheer after he waved at you, and the teams were off.

☆

A little over four hours later, the Sentinels had yet another win under their belt. Johnny and Mark were critiquing the plays made by both teams, while you and Yeri were busy trying to understand what the hell was happening in real time. It was different for the both of you when you were watching the plays in real time without any type of commentary or slow-mo videos to show the play. 

The wind picked up during the middle of the game and you were thankful Jaehyun gave you his jacket. Although, you weren't thankful for the wind sending a foul ball straight into the barrier net to keep the audience members safe. You could feel your heart racing, turning to laugh with Yeri, who was also frightened.

As soon as the game came to an end, everyone filed out of their seats, making there way to food stands or tailgates in the parking lot, where fans celebrated the Sentinels victory. Johnny, Mark, Yeri and yourself opted to waiting by the locker room for Jaehyun to walk out.

You held Jaehyun's coat over your arm, playing with your fingers as you waited. Mark and Johnny were having their own conversation while Yeri stood beside you, doing some complex edit to the photo she took with you and the boys to post on her Instagram story. 

"Dude, I'm hungry!" Mark complained, leaning his head back against the wall, rubbing his stomach.

Johnny snorted, "Yeah, I bet you want that stadium hot dog."

Mark gave his usual chortle, hitting Johnny's arm in a playful way, "Shut the hell up, dude." He spoke through his laughe. 

Yeri leaned against the wall beside you, sighing, "Yeah, I'm hungry, too. I haven't had stadium nachos in years."

"Yeri, the last time you've had stadium nachos was at school at the football game last week." You teased, locking your phone as you looked at her. 

"Well, it feels like years." She mumbled, looking at Mark, "Wanna come with me?"

You could see Mark's eyes light up, nodding his head rapidly, "Yeah, yeah, let's go."

Johnny kicked off the wall, his hands shoved into his jacket pockets, "I might as well come, too. Don't want you two to get lost." He looked at you quickly, "Wanna come, Y/N?"

"No, I'm okay. I ate before I came." You smiled softly, "You guys go eat. I'll wait for Jaehyun so he doesn't think we ditched him." You waved them off.

Yeri held up her phone, "Well, text me if you want anything."

You nodded your head, waving to them as they walked away before you leaned back against the wall as you pulled out your phone to occupy the short amount of time. 

You were invested in the random video of how fossils were formed, blackhead videos, mukbang ASMR, and other interesting videos. And you would've kept watching if you didn't see the last of the team file out of the locker room, save for the dark haired male you came with. You watched the team leave, and you pulled a frown. 

You began to question what was taking him so long, but decided to leave it as it was. It wasn't your concern what was taking him so long. You were a guest.

You looked at the locker room door for a moment longer, and hovered your thumb over the pause button on the video about who knows what — you blocked that information out. And just as you were about to press play, your phone chimed and vibrated.

jaehyun:

no one's in here, if you wanna come in.

so you don't have to wait in the cold.

delivered 1 sec ago

You blushed; for one, it was the men's locker room. And second, you didn't know where your thoughts were going. All you could remember was this morning, where Jaehyun pulled open his front door with just a towel on. You kept the text open for a moment, before you approached the locker room door. You looked both ways three times. One look was too quick. The second, in case any one was approaching. Third, for extra measure. 

Your fingers held onto the handle for a second as you contemplated a little more, the metal handle cold from the breeze drafting through the open stadium. 

You pulled open the door, peeking your head in slowly, "Jaehyun?" You called softly, your voice echoing off the walls, making it seem louder than you intended.

"Over here." Jaehyun responded, and you quickly stepped inside, the squeaking of the hydrolic hinge echoing just as loud as the door latching behind you. Your shoes hit the ground as you stepped in further to find Jaehyun within the maze of lockers. 

And you did find him. He stood by a locker, a black Sentinels branded towel hanging low around his waist. It's clearly not like you haven't seen him shirtless, let alone half-naked. You saw both visuals this morning. But it was the fact his hair dripped drops of water down his back, over his shoulders, even down his face. The fact his back and arms were so muscular. And the very obvious fact that beside the towel, he wore nothing at all.

Jaehyun turned around briefly, chuckling, "Hey." He whispered softly.

"Hi."

He smiled to himself at your small voice, using his hand to keep the towel around his hips. He seemed... shy? More shy than you've grown accustomed to. You were thinking that it was definitely because of the circumstances of where his clothes were. He cleared his throat, "Hey, I just... uh," He started, grabbing your hand in his own and stepping a little closer to you, "I wanted to say thank you for coming to see the game." He squeezed your hand in his own, smiling shyly, "It's the first time I've actually had so many people come see me. Uh, in terms of VIP."

"I'm glad I could come, too." You smiled back, "I had fun. Plus, it was nice to see an actual baseball game in person, and not on a television." You tilted your head to the side as you thought, "Although, I didn't expect that many grown men to get excited when you waved."

Jaehyun laughed, "Yeah, they can get pretty excited." He smiled, "But, I think that kiss you gave me this morning gave me the good luck I thought it would."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." He chuckled, glancing away for a quick second, "Does that mean I get that victory kiss you were talking about?" He asked softly, the hand that held his towel tightly was released, cupping your cheek with it. "You said you'd consider it."

You laughed, kissing his lips softly. 

Two days. Two days of electric tension bubbling between you guys was finally boiling over the top as you both kissed. You could tell Jaehyun was kind enough to act as the gentleman he always was for these two days, but from the way his hands wandered as you both moved your lips in sync was enough to tell you that he was desperate to touch you, to claim you as his own.

At first, he had one hand against your cheek, then both hands resting on your hips, then before you knew it, Jaehyun's hands trailed down your legs, and guided them around his waist as he lifted you up effortlessly and seated you on his lap as he sat on the bench in the middle of the floor. Jaehyun's lips never stopped moving against your own, his thumb rubbing your thigh through your pants as you straddled his hips.

Jaehyun parted from the kiss momentarily, glancing at your face as your lips grew swollen from the kiss. His hands moved from your thighs and found their way under your shirt, his thumb brushing against the skin of your stomach. "You look amazing." He whispered, placing open-mouthed kisses against your neck. 

You rested your hand against his neck as he kissed yours, your other brushing your fingers against his arm; over the veins you admired the night before, over the carpal boss of his wrist before he intertwined his fingers with your own again. Jaehyun's hips pressed against your own as his chest did the same with your own. 

"Jaehyun." You whispered softly, squeezing his hand in his own.

Despite the gentle whisper, Jaehyun had no intentions proceeding without anything more, pressing his lips to your shoulder through the fabric of your shirt, "Hm?" He hummed out, pulling away slightly to look at you, "What's wrong?"

"I just didn't think we'd share a moment like this in the locker room." You chuckled shyly, looking at him, "Not that I'm complaining, it's kinda hot, but..."

Jaehyun cupped your chin, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, "I understand." He whispered, "How about this? I'll get dressed and then we can head back to my place — or yours, I'm okay with either."

You nodded softly, climbing off his lap and sitting on the bench while he stood up to get dressed. He pulled on his briefs with the towel around his waist, loosening it to throw over his head and dry his hair. 

You looked around the locker room to avoid getting caught staring, admiring the red and black walls, the Sentinels logo in the center of the wall. You over analyzed every detail; how crooked the logo was, how some of the red bled into the black, even how there were smudges of paint left on the lockers. Maybe you were being a bit too critical; after all, you weren't an artist and sometimes mistakes happen. You began to beat yourself up because why would you criticize art if you couldn't even draw a stick figure, let alone a giant logo like the Sentinels had. Maybe you'd take an art class.

When you looked back at Jaehyun, he was dressed in his usual attire, the attire you were most accustomed to. The grey, baggy cargo pants, the black muscle tee, the backwards Sentinels baseball cap. He looks just how you were first introduced to him, and it was comforting. He grabbed his bags and wrapped his arm around your shoulder as he led you out of the locker room.

"Hey! There they are." Johnny called, a half eaten corn dog held in his hand, "We were looking everywhere for you two."

Yeri held the paper boat of nachos in her hand as she gave you a knowing look, biting into a cheese and jalapeño covered chip.

Mark breathed heavily, "I ran around the entire stadium looking."

Jaehyun chuckled, shaking his head, "You guys didn't have to do that." He smiled, "Well, we're gonna head out."

"Why don't we get something to drink as celebration?" Johnny suggested, taking a bite of the corn dog.

"Sorry. Have plans." Jaehyun shrugged, guiding you past the three of them. 

Yeri took another bite of her nachos, "Wear protection!" She called, more so to you than Jaehyun, or at least you think so.

"Dude, ew!" Mark's laugh echoed off the walls as you and Jaehyun walked off.

Jaehyun was on a mission trying to get you both to the car so you both could get out of there and relieve some sexual tension. Not only did he have to deal with some of the teammates of him stopping him, he also had to deal with team managers, coaches, and some fans of him that were begging for autographs and photos; which he gladly accepted, because he wouldn't be anything without the people who supported him. That continued the whole entire way as you both walked to the back of the stadium where he parked earlier in the morning. 

Jaehyun slowly peeked out of the door before he closed it as soon as he opened it, "Here." He whispered, swinging the backpack to his side and pulled out some sunglasses, "There's gonna be a lot of cameras flashing, so wear these and only look straight ahead." 

You nodded, pulling on the sunglasses. Jaehyun grabbed your hand in his own, and slowly opened the door again, guiding you out with him. And that's when you understood what Jaehyun meant; the flashes of the cameras were speeding in at one per second. Jaehyun was used to it, but you definitely weren't. He gave a nod, a wave, even a handshake to paparazzi, keeping you close to his side. There was a security guard that helped you both make way to the car. You wondered how so many people were able to obey one security guard, let alone with that many people.

The car was inches away from you both, Jaehyun's fingers grazing the handle to the passenger side door, helping you inside. 

"Jaehyun, is that your girlfriend?" A paparazzi shouted, continuing to take pictures, most likely blurry from the nudging and shoving from other paparazzi. Since when did athletes have the same amount of paparazzi as superstars. 

Jaehyun shut the door, giving you a smile as he shoved the bags into the backseat, "Yeah, she is." He responded to the paparazzi, shutting the door and let the security guard guide him to the driver's side. The security even went as far to check under, on top and inside the car's backseat. 

Once the security gave the go ahead, Jaehyun pulled out of the car lot, his hand immediately finding your own. 

"Sorry about that." He said, making his way back towards his place.

"Oh, it's okay." You took off the sunglasses he gave you, holding them by the nose bridge as you folded the arms, "I feel sorry you have to deal with that. No wonder you drive a Honda." You smiled.

Jaehyun laughed, "I meant saying you were my girlfriend." He glanced at you, pausing the music on his phone, "It's easier to say that than explaining we're in a talking stage, you know?"

"It's fine." You glanced at his side profile, "I know what you mean." You mumbled, "I don't mind. Being considered your girlfriend, I mean." You smiled to yourself.

Jaehyun smirked, squeezing your hand, "You sure about that?"

"Yeah."

Jaehyun nodded, playing the music to fill the silence. The music playing varied between The Weeknd, Lloyd, and even some underground artists you had no clue existed. But the one variation that they all had in common was that they were heavy intented with sexual innuendos and sexual tension. You have no idea if Jaehyun made a playlist with these types of songs or if they just happened to be playing on shuffle back to back. But either way, they were definitely setting the mood. 

Jaehyun pulled into the roundabout, grabbing his bags before passing his spare car keys to the valet and helped you out of the vehicle. 

"Why don't you park it yourself?" You questioned, reaching for the strap of Jaehyun's backpack and throwing it over your shoulders. You were genuinely curious, glancing up at him.

Jaehyun shrugged, "I don't know. They only allow employees out there. I guess it's the luxury part of the apartments." He guided you inside and to the elevator, clicking the floor button that you memorized from this morning.

You chuckled, "Do you like living here?"

"It's nice. But, I'm not much of a big house guy. I've never been interested in it." He leaned against the railing of the elevator, the duffle bag between his legs as you stood in front of him.

"So, why get a giant apartment?"

Jaehyun shrugged, "The commissioner of the team paid the lease if I agreed to join the Sents." He glanced down at his hands, "But, I'd much rather having a nice little apartment."

The elevator rung and stalled to a stop as you both reached the hallway, your hands never leaving one another's as he guided you to his door.

You felt the butterflies grow in your stomach, your heart beating in your throat and your hands clam up. Was now a bad time to say you can't remember the last time you've had sex? You really don't understand why you're feeling so nervous all of a sudden, you were both having a great conversation in the car and now, you felt like you were about to throw up.

Jaehyun pushed open the door, setting the duffel bag on the ground under the upholstered bench at the entryway, kicking off his shoes. You followed, setting the backpack down beside the bench and neatly placed your shoes next to his. You were trying to buy time to settle the butterflies in your chest by rearranging the shoes a little bit. And when you stood up, you gasped when you felt Jaehyun's hand on your own, once again. 

"If you're too nervous, we don't have to continue." He spoke in that soft voice, the same one you grew accustomed to since the night before. "I'm nervous myself."

You took a deep breath, sighing softly, "I'm nervous but... I want this."

"Are you sure?" 

"Yes."

Jaehyun stepped closer, your back pressed against the front door, he cupped your chin, his thumb brushing your bottom lip, "Can I kiss you? Is that okay?"

You nodded your head, "You don't have to ask."

Jaehyun kissed you — feverishly. Like a man starved, he pressed you against the door and kissed you like any man would with the woman they love. You felt his hands wandering again, squeezing your hips before wrapping his arm around your waist to pull you closer to him. 

His tongue found its way into your mouth, rubbing against yours. You could feel him through his pants, and he was hard. You so desperately wanted to touch him, but you didn't want to cross a boundary he might not like, so you settled for kissing him back as feverishly as he was.

A gentle groan escaped his lips as you pressed against him, a whispered "fuck" breathed into your mouth. He tapped his fingers against your thigh, silently telling you to jump up, which you obliged. He steadied you with the arm around your waist, and guided your legs around his hips as he held you effortlessly.

"You okay with moving this to the bedroom, baby?" He spoke with a gravelly voice, his lips swollen from the kiss. You felt the butterflies grow in your stomach again, your heart racing, and your panties growing wetter as he looked at you with those gentle, yet dominant eyes. You couldn't help yourself but nod.

Jaehyun smiled, carrying you over to the bedroom, crawling onto the bed and resting you on his lap as he continued to kiss at your skin, his lips trailing along your jaw, neck and shoulder. "Do you wanna continue?"

You nodded, your hand running through his hair, "I do."

Jaehyun smiled, pressing soft kisses across your face, "Okay, baby." He placed one soft kiss against your lips, adjusting his position so you were laying back on the bed, and he was between your legs. He reached over to the bedside table, pulling out a condom and looking at you softly, "Open it for me?" He chuckled.

You grabbed the packet and tore it open with your teeth, passing it to him, "Expecting a lot of play?" You teased, motioning to the box of condoms.

Jaehyun smiled, shaking his head, "Only if you want to." He nudged your leg playfully, "And I'm hoping after this, you're the only one I fuck."

You bit your bottom lip, smiling sweetly, "I haven't had any complaints yet." 

He set the condom off to the side, skillfully unbuttoning your bottoms and pulled them off your legs, throwing them off to the side.

"Oh, my—" You mumbled.

"I'll buy you a new one." He whispered, his hands pulling off his shirt, "Anything you need, I'll get it for you." His shirt was the second piece of fabric added to the growing pile of clothing, his hands pulling off your own shirt, "You're so pretty." He whispered breathlessly, "You don't understand how hard it was to keep my hands off you." 

"You shouldn't have." You smile softly, brushing your fingers through his hair as he kissed at your collarbone.

"I'll keep that in mind." Jaehyun's breath fanned against your chest, and he looked up at you, "You're so beautiful. I was hypnotized when I first saw you in person, I swear."

You laughed, "Did Mark push you to come pour my drink?"

"No, I took that initiative myself." He smiled, his fingers tangling in the waistband of your panties, "I was sick of waiting." He chuckled.

And you were sick of waiting. It's two days of complete sexual tension and it was almost painful waiting for anything more to happen. You can't remember the last time you had this much sexual tension with someone, let alone the last time someone desired you this bad.

"Jaehyun..." You whispered out, as he pressed kisses to your hip bone, "Please, I can't wait anymore."

He smiled, pressing a soft kiss to your hip once more, "You can't wait anymore?" He teased, "I spent months fantasizing about this, and you can't wait anymore?" He hummed.

"You know what I mean." You whined, feeling your cheeks blush as you leaned your head back against the pillows.

"Okay, okay, baby. I guess I shouldn't keep you waiting any longer." His dimples imprinted his cheeks, sitting up from between your legs and grabbed the condom from beside him, "You've been patient and I appreciate that." He dipped his hand into the waistband of his pants, his cock resting in his hand as he rolled the condom on, slowly pumping himself in his hand, "Fuck, look what you do to me, baby."

You wrapped your legs around his hips, using the heel of your foot to pull him closer to your heat.

Jaehyun's hand pressed against the pillow you laid on top of, guiding the tip of his cock into you, slowly pressing into you, "Oh, fuck..."

"Oh my god..." You whispered out, tangling your fingers through his hair as he pressed his chest against yours, pressing open mouthed kisses to your neck.

"I'm gonna start moving, baby."

"Mmhmm..."

Jaehyun slowly began thrusting into you, the tip of his cock pressing against your sweet spot, your toes curling and fingers tightening on the hair on the back of his head. Jaehyun's long eyelashes brushed against your jawline as he continued to press soft kisses on your neck, "So soft, so pretty." He whispers against you skin, his tongue wetting the plain, gently sucking.

Gasping, you rolled his hips up against his, "Jae," Your words come out shaky, the heat moving from your cunt up to your ears.

"Sensitive there?" He whispered, nibbling on the skin, his hand moving from your cheek to press between you two to rub his index and middle finger along your clit. 

"Fuck!" 

Jaehyun chuckled, "You're so wet, princess." He smiled, his hips continuing to press into your own, "God, I imagined how pretty you'd look underneath me for so long." His cock twitched against your walls, a moan escaping his lips, "Feels so good... Could keep fucking you forever."

The words you wanted to speak disappeared just as quickly as they appeared, listening to your thoughts echo Jaehyun as he continued to press into you. Silent babbles were occupied with whines and moans, clenching down on his dick as he moved. "Jae, Jae,"

"I gotcha, baby. I'm right here." He whispered softly, rubbing your legs, "Jae's right here."

You groaned as Jaehyun grabbed your hips, guiding you along his length, "So good..." You whined.

"I know, baby. Like you were made for me." Whispering in your ear, Jaehyun's fingers found their way to your clit once more, flicking it gently, "A pretty, soaking wet pussy just for my dick."

You jolt slightly as Jaehyun flicked you clit, a heat wave washing over your body as it blushed, simultaneously, goosebumps covered your skin from Jaehyun's words.

Jaehyun smiled softly, whispering sweet nothing against your ear, "So tight. It feels so good."

"Fuck, Jaehyun...." You whispered out, your throat straining as you attempted to speak.

Jaehyun's fingers worked against your clit, continuing the same pace of his hips, "Does it feel good, baby?" 

The words he whispered were enough to make your pussy jump, nodding your head. Glancing down at the bulge of your stomach, you couldn't help the moan escape your throat, "Oh, fuck." 

Jaehyun groaned, his hand lingering on your hip, "Look at you..." He whispered, more to himself, "Wanna fuck you everyday."

Jaehyun's voice was hoarse, his eyes staring into your own. He leaned closer, kissing your lips in contrast to the brutal pounding of his hips. He hummed against your lips, sliding his tongue between your lips and rubbed his own against yours. 

Jaehyun pulled away for a moment, looking at you, "Can I taste you, princess?"

It was a question you honestly couldn't refuse. You nodded your head, whining softly at his exit but allowed him to continue to kiss down your body, his breath fanning against your wet cunt.

Licking his lips, Jaehyun hummed softly at the white cream around your hole, "Shit..." He whispered out, pressing soft kisses against your sensitive clit.

"Jae!" You yelped as his lips pressed against you, blushing softly as another wave of heat covered your core.

Jaehyun smiled, the dimples on his cheeks making an appearance before he delved into you, his tongue licking your hole, savoring the flavor. 

You gasped softly and let your hands immediately slip through his hair, feeling the soft strands tickle the inside of your wrist. 

He was eating you out like a man starved, his fingers pressing into you as his lips and tongue danced with one another against your pussy. Jaehyun's eyes closed as he continued to thrust his fingers into you and taste you against his tongue, the cold of the ring around his finger soothing the burn of your body.

You could only handle so much more as he curled his fingers into you, gasping and whining as he teased the spongey spot inside you. Your pussy fluttered around his fingers, moaning softly, "Ri- Right there, Jae."

Jaehyun's fingers continued to rub against the spot, his tongue lapping up all your juices that dribbled onto his fingers like it was juice rolling down his hand. 

Your pussy sobbed as he continued tasting you and teasing you, feeling the warm coil break in your stomach, the creamy cum coating every line of his hand, covering the silver ring that pressed against your hole and leaving a white ring around the base of his fingers.

"Fuck," he whispered against you clit, moaning softly as he slowly moved his fingers inside you, "That was hot."

You whined shyly as he continued to press into your heat, his fingers never moving from the spot inside you, "Keep moving your fingers like that, and I'll cum again."

Jaehyun smiled, "I'm always up for a challenge." He teased, kissing your thigh, "Only if you are."

You blushed softly; how could resist such an invitation? You were so out of practice that you were out of breath only after cumming once, you had to at least repay the favor.

"Can I suck your cock?" You asked gently, sitting up on your elbows.

Jaehyun chuckled softly, moving his fingers out of your cunt, "Do you want to?"

You used this chance to adjust your position and lay across his lap, your mouth salivating at the sight of his cock, covered in the clear condom. You looked up at him with shy eyes, nodding your head.

"You gotta say it, baby." He whispered, his fingers brushing against your cheek.

"I wanna." You mumbled, entangling your fingers with his own.

Jaehyun smiled, leaning forward to peck your forehead, "Good girl." He whispered in your ear, "Go ahead." He guided you with his words, letting you roll the condom off his cock and kiss at the red cherry colored tip. A groan parted his lips as he settled his hand against your head. He didn't push, he just used it as silent praise, letting you take your own pace with what you were doing.

Yet, his hand on the back of your head almost gave you the motivation to do more; You wrapped your lips around his cock, slowly bobbing along the length, using your tongue to tease the slit of his cock. Your hand moved downward, rubbing against his sack, listening to his whines as you sucked him off.

Jaehyun glanced down at you, using his hands to move your hair away from your face and wrap it gently around his hand, "You're gorgeous." He whispered, as he admired your lips turning a swollen red, your flushed cheeks, your pretty fingers rubbing against him and your eyes lidded as you savored him on your tongue. 

Looking up at him through your lashes, you moaned at the praise, tasting the pre-cum leaking against your tongue. Pulling away with a thin string of saliva keeping you both connected as you took the moment to pump him in your hand, the pre-cum oozing from his slit.

"Fuck," Jaehyun leaned in closer, pressing his lips against yours to taste himself against your tongue, "You're so pretty." He moaned as your hand continued to move against his member.

You smiled softly, "You're not too bad looking yourself." You smiled, "Taste good too."

Jaehyun smiled softly, soft whimpers leaving his lips as you wrapped yours back around the cock head. Your finger traced the vein on the underside of his cock, drool dripping from your lips down his girth.

"Shit, f-fuck," He whined, "So close, baby. Keep going."

Listening to Jaehyun's sounds was enough to encourage you to continue until his muscles tensed, heavy pants escaping his throat. The taste of Jaehyun's cum against your tongue was like a hunger that you weren't aware you had sated. You had the taste linger on your tongue as you pulled away from his cock, swallowing the thick release.

"God, baby..." Heavy breaths, messy (but still insanely perfect) hair and flushed cheeks only suited him more, "That was perfect."

You smiled, laying back on the bed as you soak up the compliments.

Jaehyun lay beside you, wrapping his arm around your waist as he placed soft kisses against your neck, jawline, cheek.

You both continued to cuddle, letting Jaehyun fawn over you as you laid with one another until either of you fell asleep. You didn't mind being doted on. It was kinda nice.

copyright © 2024 thewonandonly. all rights reserved.

[eternalxvenus]

↳˗ˏˋtoji's special workoutˊˎ˗ ↴

summary: You were late to meet your personal trainer Toji at the gym. Luckily he let you stay after hours, but he was going to make sure you got a proper workout before leaving.

cw: smut 18+, personal trainer!toji x f!reader, pet names (doll, slut), p in v, Toji is a little mean/rough in this ngl, deepthroating, handjob, unprotected sex, light nipple play, slight orgasm control, degradation, fingering, squirting

wc: 2k

notes: i really hope you guys enjoy this fic! i'm actually kind of proud of it lmao. once again sorry it took so long but feel free to send in asks/requests!

You were driving in your car, contemplating going faster than the speed limit, when you saw that the time read 8:34 pm. You were supposed to meet Toji, your personal trainer at eight o'clock, but you were running behind. You knew he would be irritated since you already pushed your regular workout time from six to eight, and now you were late when the gym closed at nine. 

You pulled into the parking lot, and thankfully, the lights inside the gym were still on. You breathed a sigh of relief, grabbing your gym bag and jogging inside. 

Placing your bag by the lockers, you walked over to Toji, who was lifting weights in front of the mirror. “You’re late. Luckily, I'm friends with the owner. He's gonna let us stay late s'long as I lock up tonight,” he said, his voice slightly strained from lifting the weights. 

"I know, I know, and thank you. My meeting went on longer than it was supposed to and then there was the traffic-"

"Start stretching," he says with a grunt. He sets down the weights and looks over at you. "You're gonna be doin' legs tonight."

You nod and do your usual stretches for your leg days. As you were doing squats, you glanced at Toji through the mirror, and it seemed like he was looking at your ass. You brushed it off as him just watching your form and continued.

You finished your stretches and headed from the stretching area over to the leg press machine with Toji. You got in position as he placed the weights on. "I want ya to do 5 sets, 15 reps each." Your eyes widened. "Last time I only did 3 sets with 12 reps!"

Toji snickered, a smug look on his face. "You're supposed to be getting better and stronger, not staying the same. Plus, you wasted my time being late." You scoffed, "I apologized, and it wasn't even my fault." He rolls his eyes. "Don't care. Just get it done."

~

You finally finished all your workouts (they were excruciating, and you will definitely feel it tomorrow) so you headed off to the showers while Toji cleaned up. You realized after showering that you had left your bag out by the lockers. You called out from the shower room door, "Toji! Could you bring my gym bag?" You didn't hear a response but sat on the bench and waited.

A few minutes later, you heard Toji's voice. "Alright, I'm comin' in." He walked into the shower room, your gym bag in hand. "Here ya go." 

You thanked him and took the bag. You both stood there for a moment in silence, and he didn't make a move to leave. He stood there and took in your damp body from head to toe, and you held the towel a little closer to your body. Toji's tongue peeked out and swiped across the scar on his lip.

He took a step closer before speaking, his voice lower than usual. "Y'know, I don't think I worked ya out hard enough." Your breath hitched as your heartbeat sped up, hammering inside your chest so hard you thought it burst out.

Of course, you knew Toji was attractive. He had a perfect build, his abs, pecs, and biceps constantly straining against his compression shirts. And when he was shirtless, he looked absolutely jaw-dropping. Other women in the gym would ogle and stare, he was a wet dream come to life. He also oozed sex appeal. Whether it was intentional or not, you had no clue. The deep smoothness of his voice and the harsh encouragement given during training caused wetness to pool in your underwear more times than you would like to admit.

The thing is, not only is he a few years older than you, but he has a kid (which you found out after getting a text saying he had to cancel because his son was sick.) This made you assume he was married but didn't wear his ring to the gym. He was also your trainer, so there was the professionalism of it all.

Toji took your chin between his fingers, his thumb lightly brushing your bottom lip. "What do ya say, Doll? Think I should work you out a little more?" He spoke again with a smirk on his face. 

Your eyes couldn't help but stare at his lips, the scar more noticeable up close. You figured this would be a one-time, heat-of-the-moment thing. Why the hell not. “That's what I pay you for, isn't it?”

The moment you said those words, his mouth was on yours in a bruising kiss. His tongue massaged yours in a way that made you melt. Both of your bodies were pressed up against one another. You could feel the growing bulge in his sweats pressing against you.

“Get on your knees. Let's start by trainin' that throat of yours...” You immediately obeyed, watching impatiently as he removed his sweats and boxers. His cock sprung up right in front of your face, and you realized he was big. Not wasting any more time, your fingers reached his base as your tongue licked his slit, tasting pre-cum as you sucked the tip. Toji hissed at the feeling and bucked his hips towards your touch. When you took him into your mouth, he groaned, placing a hand on the back of your head. You felt unbelievable. His taste makes you even wetter than you were before. “Let's see how much you can take Doll.” He pushed your head further down his length, making you gag as his tip hit the back of your throat, but the noise made Toji groan. 

Your nose was pressed against his pelvis and you reached your hand up to tease his balls. "F-Fuck! You tryna make me cum?" he said looking down.

You nodded making a muffled sound of 'mhm' as your eyes started to water. Toji pulled you off his cock and a string of saliva and pre-cum dribbled down your chin. 

"Such a pathetic slut. Taking my cock down your throat and playin' with my balls like that. You just can’t fuckin’ help yourself, can you?” He moaned as his hardness twitched right in front of your face. “That desperate for my cock, huh?”

You moan as you clenched around nothing. Your voice was breathy and slightly hoarse when you spoke. "Love having you in my mouth Toji." Your hand starts to pump his length while the other cups his balls, fondling them as he bites down on his lip. His head is thrown back, half-lidded eyes fluttering as he rolls his hips along to your touch. 

After a few minutes of you stroking him, Toji pulled you off the floor and laid you on the nearby bench. Your towel had come off, and he finally had an unobstructed view of your body. His hands came up to play with your now stiff nipples. "You're so fucking sexy, Doll. I can't tell you how many times I got hard just watching you work out. These perfect tits bouncing and that sexy ass."

"So you were looking at my ass earlier." you giggled. You noticed Toji's staring at times, but always thought it was a professional gaze, not a lustful one.

"How could I not. Those shorts make it hard to be professional. Now it's time for stretching. Gotta make sure I don't break you."

Suddenly your legs were spread apart, and Toji was working two of his long fingers into you while his thumb focused on your clit. Your breath hitched, and you clenched around him immediately. "Oh- shit! Please make me feel good Toji. I wanna cum, please."

Toji scoffed. "Already begging to cum? How desperate are you, huh? You're not cummin' anywhere except on my fuckin' cock. Got that?"

You nod, unable to focus on speaking while his fingers piston in and out of your cunt, spreading your arousal.

"Use your words slut."

"I won't cum anywhere except on your cock. I- fuck... I promise."

He gave a short hum of approval as he took his fingers out of you, slipping them into his mouth. "Such a sweet cunt. I'll have to taste you until you shakin' and cryin' another day."

Before you could even process his words, Toji removed his sweats and started rubbing his hard cock up and down your slit, collecting your arousal. In a swift movement, you felt your hole being stretched by his girth.

"Ah- holy... shit Toji!" You nearly screamed as you felt him bottom out inside you, his tip pressing against your G-spot. "You’re so fucking deep!"

Suddenly, Toji's hands were placed behind your knees, pushing them down towards the sides of your head. His pace was nothing short of ruthless. His heavy balls were slapping up against your ass with every harsh thrust. You didn't know if it was because you had just finished working out, but everything felt much more intense. You could hear the wet sounds coming from your pussy. One glance down, and you saw the white forming at the base of his dick.

"M'gonna fuck this tight pussy until I've ruined you for every other man. You'd like that, wouldn't you? Knowing I'm the only man who can make your pussy feel this good." You nodded mindlessly at his possessiveness. A light sheen of sweat covered both your bodies as he fucked you into oblivion. He released his grip on your legs and watched as your back arched into his touch. His hands moved to cup your breasts, pinching at your nipples. Toji then leaned in to place a painful kiss on your lips, and as you wrapped your arms around his neck, his tongue made its way into your mouth, causing you to moan sinfully.

The force of his thrusts caused a distant pain on your back from laying on the hard bench, but you didn't care. All you could think about was your orgasm that was quickly approaching.

"Damn it... your greedy cunt just keeps suckin' me in. Gonna get me fuckin’ addicted." Toji's thrusts became harder as he placed one of your legs on his shoulder.

"I'm close- so close Toji. Please can I- ah!" Loud whimpers and broken moans spilled from your mouth as Toji fucked you. You were so close.

"Yeah? You gonna cum for me? Cum on my fuckin' cock then, slut." He brought his thumb down and worked fast circles on your clit. Your whole body tensed up as you screamed, eyes rolling back into your head, back arched off the bench. White hot pleasure shot through your entire body as you squirted all over Toji's thighs and abs. Your walls squeezed him, nearly suffocating his dick.

"Fuuuuck... that's it, good fucking girl. Cum all over my- god damn- cum all over my cock!"

You were finally coming down from your high when you felt Toji pull out. Your eyes were hazy and unfocused as you watched him stroke his cock, his eyes squeezed shut before spilling his cum all over your stomach with a groan. "Oh... fuck yes"

He took a moment to catch his breath before taking in the sight in front of him. "Look at that... all fucked out and covered in my cum like a true slut."

You smiled lazily as you sat up on the bench. "I'm only a slut for you."

He gave a low hum of approval before helping you stand up. "You bet your ass you are. Now how 'bout we go get cleaned up in the shower."

You gave a nod as you started towards the shower on shaky legs. Once you were both inside with the water on, you turned to him and saw his dick hard once again and realized you weren't going to get cleaned up just yet. You knew you'd definitely be sore for the next few days and that you'd have to do more late-night workouts with Toji in the future.

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[persevereforahappyending]

No Man's Land |1|

Pairing: Sam Carpenter x Reader

Summary: Sam can’t help but be drawn to the cute stranger from her gym, even if everything about them makes them the perfect suspect, just when Ghostface has returned.

Warnings: Talks of Killings and Murder

Word Count: 3.5k+

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15

Sam sighed as she put her key in the door, slowly unlocking each of the locks. She wanted to go to the gym after her shift, but she forgot her gym bag at the apartment. She really needed to look into renting one of the lockers the gym had. Her gym wasn’t too far away but coming home meant having to deal with Tara and her friends.

“Hey,” Sam greeted.

Tara was stretched out on the couch, Chad had his knees pulled close to him as he sat on the floor, watching whatever movie they had thrown on, Ethan was curled up on one of the chairs, and then Anika sat in the recliner with Mindy draped over her. Sam opened her mouth to ask about Quinn when she heard the usual noise coming from Quinn’s room.

“They’ve been at it since we got home,” Tara mumbled, rolling her eyes.

Sam chuckled with a shake of her head. The only downside to Quinn as a roommate was how loud she was with her various partners. Sam made her way across the living room and towards her room. She quickly threw on a tank top and some sweats before grabbing her gym bag. She did a quick check to make sure she had a change of clothes, just in case, before grabbing her water bottle and making her way into the kitchen. As she filled her water bottle the sound of Mindy and Tara got louder, arguing about whatever they were watching.

“I’ll be back in an hour or two,” Sam said.

“Wait,” Chad said, making Sam stop just as her hand rested on the doorknob. “You’re going to the gym?” Sam nodded. “Cool if I join?”

“I thought you preferred the one on campus.”

“I do, but I missed my usual workout time and now it’s crowded,” Chad wrinkled his nose. “I don’t want deal with all that.”

It wasn’t that Sam didn’t want Chad to come with her, she liked working out with Chad. Mindy and Tara never wanted to step foot in the gym, Chad was literally the only person who would ever workout with her anyway. Chad was also a football player and had a solid routine, he taught Sam plenty when she first started working out.

“Fine,” she said.

Chad instantly jumped up from his spot on the floor. He rifled through his backpack until he finally pulled out a little gym bag. Chad was pretty much always ready to go to the gym, but he had a habit of doing a pretty intense workout and would always need a change of clothes.

The two of them waved goodbye to the others and began the trek to the gym. It was only about a fifteen-minute walk before the little, locally owned, gym came into view. It was the only thing in an otherwise abandoned parking lot, it was small, it was dated, but it had its own community. Sam knew she was all over the news, her history was out there for everyone to see, but not a single person in the gym ever questioned her or gave her a dirty look. Everyone who went to the gym was there to work out, they were also friendly and willing to help each other out if needed, and the owner was the same way, the kindest old man Sam had ever met. It was also a 24-hour gym, meaning Sam could get there in the middle of the night after a late shift and not be disturbed or she could go earlier, like now, and have the regulars around.

When they finally got there Sam swiped her badge, unlocking the door. As soon as they stepped into the gym Sam took in the slightly crowded room. Chad rested his hands on his hips and took a big whiff of the air. Sam glanced at him out of the side of her eye, furrowing her brow slightly.

“What?” Chad asked. “This is why I love coming here,” he gestured with his hands. “You can smell the sweat, smell the workouts being done!” Sam shook her head; Chad didn’t come to the gym with her often but whenever he did, he was like an overly excited child. “The one at school has great equipment but it all smells new,” Chad wrinkled his nose. “No matter what…” he began rubbing his chin as if he was contemplating the deep question as to how the gym could always smell that good.

Sam lightly slapped him on the shoulder and pushed him towards the weights. She had never worked out in Chad’s gym, she wasn’t allowed to since she wasn’t a student, but she had seen it a few times and knew Chad was right, the school seemed to have all the new equipment. Her gym didn’t have much, just a couple of each of the standard pieces of machinery. The gym had enough to give whoever came in a full workout, but everything was clearly worn-down from years of use. Sam thought the used equipment just added to the gym’s character.

As Sam followed behind Chad towards the weights she caught sight of you over in the back corner of the gym, where you always were. She shook her head, she was there to workout, the sooner she finished her workout, the sooner she could get back home, and the sooner she could go to sleep. They each put in their respective earbuds then each grabbed a set of dumbbells and began their warmup before they could get started on the true workout.

After a quick warmup Sam and Chad both made their way to the chest press machine. Sam did everything in her power not to look at you and only focus on her workout. You were in her peripheral and it was taking all her focus not to turn her head just a little more to get a better visual. She tried to focus on just getting her reps in and that be that. She closed her eyes, forcing herself to listen to her music as she finished up her last few reps.

“Hey,” Chad said, tapping her on the arm. She looked up to see he had already finished his workout and was now on his feet and stretching. “Spot me?” he nodded at a bench press that was open.

Sam nodded, she didn’t use the bench press often because she usually didn’t have a spotter and as nice as everyone was in the gym she didn’t want to inconvenience any of them by asking. As much as she wanted to continue her workout, she didn’t mind the break if it meant helping Chad.

Sam stood behind the bench as Chad got the weights into place then laid down. She got her hands ready, holding them under the bar as Chad got ready to start lifting. Sam stayed behind Chad, watching as he started doing his reps, ready to grab the bar if he needed. At least that’s what she was supposed to be doing. The bench press was on the opposite side of the gym still, but it gave Sam the perfect view of you.

Her gaze was intense as she stared straight ahead, stared straight at you. You were across the way, hitting the punching bag, like you usually were. You were one of the regulars at the gym and you ran on almost the same schedule as Sam. Sam had never spoken to you, she couldn’t deny that you were quite attractive though. Though being on such a similar schedule as her made her suspicious.

There were times, like now, when you were there, training with a few of the others around in the gym. Then there were times where it was late at night, and no one was in the gym save for you and Sam. Sam had almost left the first time she got to the gym thinking she was alone, only to see you there. The only reason she didn’t leave then or any time after that was because you never did anything. You would sometimes acknowledge Sam with a simple nod, like a lot of the regulars, and that was it, otherwise you focused on your workout. You didn’t really talk to anyone, though neither did Sam, the only time you truly engaged with someone else was when one of your buddies was with you.

Whenever you were there Sam’s eyes couldn’t help but gravitate towards you, even across the room. Maybe in another life, one where she wasn’t so paranoid, one where she was normal, she might have approached you, just over a year ago she would have even flirted with you, she might have even asked you out, but her life wasn’t normal. You were cute but you were mysterious, and a mysterious stranger was exactly what Sam’s life didn’t need.

“What are you looking at?” Chad asked, snapping her out of her daydream.

Sam looked down to see Chad had put the bar back up, even without her assistance. His hands still rested on the bar, but he was looking up at Sam curiously.

“Nothing,” Sam said, trying to brush him off.

This was exactly why she liked going to the gym alone. She liked to go to the gym and just get her workout done without any distractions, she also didn’t want the others to know about you. You were her little secret, her little crush, the first crush she had had since Richie. If any of the others had learned that she was even remotely attracted to you she’d never hear the end of it, especially not from Mindy or Tara. Despite hating the gym, if her sister and Mindy knew about you, they’d be begging her to come with her every day.

“Who is that?” Chad asked. He was now sitting up on the bench and looked back at Sam with a smirk.

Sam closed her eyes and let out a deep sigh, she was just hoping she wasn’t blushing. Based on the way Chad’s eyes darted from her to you she knew Chad had figured out exactly what she was looking at. “Nobody,” she mumbled.

“That,” Chad pointed at you with a light chuckle. “Is not nobody.”

“They’re just a regular at the gym,” she tried waving it off again.

Sam walked off, making her way to the treadmill. She was silently begging for Chad to drop it, she hoped that if she didn’t acknowledge it then he’d forget about it, he wouldn’t say anything to Mindy or Tara. She hopped on the treadmill and began at a slow and steady speed, she liked to work her way up to a light jog.

She stared straight ahead, ignoring Chad as he leaned against the side of the machine. “So, you wouldn’t mind if I go say hi to them then,” he said. Sam stumbled, nearly tripping over her own feet as she snapped her head towards Chad.

“Don’t,” Sam warned.

“I’m just going to ask if they want to spar,” he held his hands up but was already walking away from Sam and in your direction. Sam didn’t miss the slight smirk on Chad’s face as he made his way towards you.

Sam let out a huff and started smacking her feet harder as she quickened her pace. If she finished her workout early then she had every intention of leaving Chad there, she might even lock the door and refuse to let him in the apartment for the rest of the night. She couldn’t help but glance out of the side of her eye every few seconds, catching sight of Chad as he approached you and tried striking up a conversation. It didn’t seem to be going as he intended based on the way you were shaking your head as he gestured from himself to you and then to the boxing ring in the middle of the room.

Most of the time Sam saw you alone at the punching bag. You would have your earbuds in and just focus on hitting the bag, as if the entire world disappeared and it was just you and the bag. At other times, like now, when the gym was busiest, Sam noticed that sometimes you’d get in the ring with one of the guys and spar a bit. You always used the same guys though, you didn’t randomly grab someone, and it seemed like you tended to deny anyone who just came up you, like she was sure Chad was about to find out.

After a few minutes of trying to convince you, Chad finally walked back over to Sam with his head hung low. Chad jumped onto the treadmill with a dramatic sigh and began a light walk. Sam rolled her eyes, shaking her head at Chad’s ridiculousness and focused on finishing her workout.

“What happened?” Sam finally asked, taking pity on Chad.

“They said no,” he mumbled, kicking his feet at the treadmill as he continued to pout.

“They don’t usually spar with random people.” Behind Chad Sam could see you getting in the ring with one of your buddies. Neither of you had on any sort of gear besides the tape on your hands. “And I think you’re about to see why.”

Chad scrunched his eyebrow then turned back to where you were in the boxing ring, you and your buddy already circling each other. You waited for your friend to throw the first punch, like you always did. You blocked your friends’ first few shots then you started throwing your own punches. The two of you went back and forth, dealing blow after blow, each of you landed a few hits, but both of you blocked most of them.

“Damn,” Chad whispered.

Sam smirked as she went back to focusing on her workout. Despite never looking back at you she could tell you and your buddy were still at it based on the way Chad never changed the speed of his treadmill, his entire focus seeming to be on you. She wouldn’t deny it, watching you spar was something else, you clearly knew what you were doing, it was obvious you had some sort of training. Sam never understood why you didn’t spar with others who were willing, until she saw you for the first time, everyone else here was an amateur compared to you.

Sam turned off the treadmill and slowed her pace until she came to a gradual stop. “You good?” Sam asked. She took a swig of her water while she waited for Chad to acknowledge her presence again.

“What?” Chad looked back at her before quickly looking back at you. You brought your knee up, nailing your buddy in the ribs, then didn’t hesitate to punch him in the face. Chad visibly winced at the hit before hopping off the treadmill. “Let’s go!” he waved at her as if he was the one waiting on her.

Sam rolled her eyes and followed Chad. Before she walked out the door, she met your gaze as you turned in the ring, the two of you probably only held eye contact for half a second but it was enough to make Sam hold her breath. The last thing she saw before the door closed was you and your buddy resetting your positions and getting ready for another spar session.

Sam had to listen to Chad ramble about you the entire walk home. She usually wouldn’t mind her thoughts being consumed by you but since it was Chad rambling, she knew Mindy and Tara would surely hear about it. She was just hoping she could get into the apartment and into her room before Chad started telling them all the details.

Sam put the key in the door, unlocking all the locks once again. “They’re just so badass!” Chad said, his eyes wide as he gestured crazily with his hands. “I can’t believe you tried to keep them from me!” Sam sighed, pushing the door open.

“Who are you talking about?” Tara asked with a chuckle as soon as the two of them stepped into the living room.

“Another one of your lovers?” Mindy snarked, laughing at her brother’s expense.

“Not mine,” Chad quickly denied. “Sam’s,” he pointed back at Sam, who instantly froze as she dropped her keys into the little bowl beside the door. She didn’t need to look to know Mindy and Tara’s full attention was now on hers.

“You’re seeing someone?” Tara said. She was already on her feet and in front of Sam by the time she turned around.

“I’m not seeing anyone,” Sam sighed.

“Who is this mysterious stranger?” Mindy asked, coming up right behind Tara, leaving Anika to sit alone without a second thought.

“Y/N,” Chad happily supplied. All three girls whipped their heads around to see Chad placed at the dining table, popping open a yogurt. Sam tried to hide her smile, she hadn’t known your name, it was a nice name.

“Tell us everything!” Tara said, dragging Sam by the hand to the dining table.

“There’s nothing to tell,” Sam shrugged. “I don’t even-”

“They’re badass,” Chad interrupted, never looking up from his yogurt. “I asked them to spar, and they said no but then I learned why.” Chad looked up at the ceiling in a daydream like state, tapping his spoon against the yogurt cup. “I want to spar with them even more now.” Sam furrowed her brow, tilting her head at the comment.

“You’ve been holding out on us Sammy,” Mindy said, bumping her shoulder as she plopped down into the seat next to her. Sam flicked a glare at her, but Mindy’s attention was fully on Chad. “Spill,” she ordered, leaning half her body across the table.

Sam crossed her arms and slumped back in her chair. She had to sit there and just listen as Chad rambled on and on about you. She wasn’t sure how he could possibly have so much to say, he talked to you for not even ten minutes. He gave the girls a complete recap of their entire gym experience, Sam was definitely regretting allowing him to come with her. He gestured wildly with his hands, trying to mimic the same punches you had been doing.

“Wow,” Tara and Mindy said at the same time, both leaning back in their chairs once Chad was done.

“Are you sure you’re not in love with them?” Mindy asked, tilting her head at her brother.

“No!” Chad said quickly, a little too quickly. “I just think they’re amazing and I admire their workout routine, and I just want to get to know them and become their best friend…” Mindy nodded but gave her brother an unconvinced look.

“Can we go to the gym with you tomorrow?” Tara asked.

“They might not be there,” Sam mumbled without thinking.

“Oh!” Mindy screeched right in Sam’s ear. “You know their schedule.” She wiggled her eyebrows as she looked past Sam and at Tara who was giving her a knowing nod.

“We have a very similar schedule,” Sam defended.

“Sounds like a match made in heaven,” Mindy sighed, leaning into Sam’s side.

“I’m not looking for a relationship!”

“Come on Sam,” Tara sighed, much more calm than before. “You deserve to be happy. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“My last boyfriend tried to kill all of us,” Sam deadpanned, looking her sister in the eye.

Tara opened and closed her mouth a few times as she nodded. “But what are the odds of that happening again?”

“Guys!” Anika called, interrupting whatever excuse Sam was going to come up with next. “You have to see this.”

Everyone got up from the kitchen table and moved to the living room just as Anika turned up the volume. Everyone remained silent as the news played, talking about the murder of two college students. Sam didn’t even react to Quinn coming out of her room and joining them.

“It’s got everyone asking, is this the work of Ghostface?” the news reported said, ending the broadcast before showing the picture of the two boys murdered.

“Holy shit,” Mindy said. “Those are the dudes from our film class,” she pointed at the screen.

“We have to leave, now.”

“What? No!” Tara said, instantly trying to fight Sam. “We don’t even know what this is!” she pointed to the TV. “It could be nothing; they were clearly freaks!”

“Are you really willing to take that risk?” Sam snapped.

“Quinn! Call your dad,” Tara whipped around to look at their roommate. “Let’s at least figure out what’s going on before you uproot my life.”

Sam held Tara’s glare but didn’t argue as Quinn called her dad. She understood where Tara was coming from, she knew Tara wanted things to go back to normal and just wanted a normal college experience. Sam wanted to just cut and run though, even if there was no proof that Ghostface was actually back, she didn’t want to take the risk. Sam couldn’t help the feeling that it was starting all over again.

[newobsessionweekly]

Matchmaking

Main masterlist | The Rookie masterlist Tim Bradford x fem!cop!reader

Fandom: The Rookie

Summary: Ever since you've known Tim, you turned everything into a competition, including hiding your feelings. More than a decade later, you finally let your feelings loose with a bit of help.

Warnings: don't think so, pure fluff if u can believe that

Flufff Requested: Yes Words: 3.2k

GIF not mine, credits to the owner.

When you and Tim arrive at the station in the early morning, almost simultaneously, the air tingles with excitement.

Your arms are loaded with coffee cups, and as you struggle with the door, Tim effortlessly steps forward, his hand finding its place on the small of your back as he holds the door open, guiding you inside and allowing you to score another point.

A rush of warmth floods through you at his touch, but you quickly push the feeling aside, burying it beneath layers of familiarity and friendship. With a proud smile, you stride inside, leading the way.

You and Tim go way back—to those academy days when the competition between you two was as fierce as it was playful. That bond has stuck like glue through all the twists and turns of life, making you each other's ride-or-die. But to everyone else, it's crystal clear there's more brewing between you two than just a regular friendship.

Angela, Lucy, and Nolan greeted you with warm smiles as you approached, carefully balancing the steaming morning fuel. Tim lingered close behind, his grumpiness belying the playful twinkle in his eyes.

You handed out the coffees, your smile widening as Tim stepped forward to claim his cup. But before he could reach for it, you pulled it back with a mischievous grin.

"You're late, Bradford," you teased.

Tim's lips quirked into a half-smile as he reached for the cup, his fingers brushing against yours for a fraction of a second longer than necessary.

"62 to 58, you're getting lazy," you added.

"I'm not lazy," he retorted, his tone playful but firm. "I got stuck in traffic."

You rolled your eyes at his excuse, but the warmth in your chest told you that you wouldn't have it any other way.

Tim's got this tough-guy act going on, but deep down, he's got a soft spot for your sunshine personality, that smile of yours that could light up a room, and how you're always there for everyone. He won't come out and say it, claiming he's a man and men don't have BFFs, but deep down, you mean the world to him. He'd take a bullet for you in a heartbeat, no questions asked.

Whenever you're around, Tim's whole attitude changes. That grumpy exterior melts away, replaced by this warmth in his eyes that's just for you. You bring out a side of him that most people never see, and he treasures every moment he gets to spend with you. He might not say it out loud, but his actions scream it - you're not just his friend or colleague; you're everything to him.

When Tim glanced at his coffee cup and spotted the name Loser,he couldn't help but suppress a chuckle behind a façade of annoyance. "Seriously?" he grumbled, holding the cup up for you to see.

You just flashed him an innocent smile, grabbing his arm and guiding him towards the locker room to get ready for the shift.

"You and I, Bradford, we'll have so much fun together at the spa," you teased.

"Don't get your hopes up, Bug," Tim retorted, though there was a hint of fondness in his tone.

As you both walked away, Angela watched with a knowing smile. She had seen firsthand how your friendship with Tim had evolved over the years, and she knew there was something more between you two. She had watched as you both danced around your feelings, too afraid and too proud to admit the truth.

Angela turned to Lucy and Nolan, curiosity gleaming in her eyes. "What's the score?" she inquired, eager to know the latest update on the ongoing competition.

Lucy shrugged, "I'm not sure. Lost count at 45 to 53."

"It's not that bad in 12 years," he remarked, his eyebrows shot up in surprise.

Angela's lips curved into a mischievous smile. "Try 4 days," she enjoyed the shock that spread across John's face at her revelation.

"What could possibly be the prize?" Lucy's eyes widened in disbelief.

"Tickets to the season end game for Tim and a spa day at Four Seasons for Y/N."

Lucy's jaw dropped, "That's pretty expensive."

"Yeah, they had 10 years to level up the game. Five more and the loser is gonna pay for the wedding," Angela teased, nodding in agreement.

Lucy's mind started to race, a hint of speculation in her voice. "Wait, their wedding?" she paused, her expression thoughtful. "You don't think...?"

Angela rolled her eyes, dismissing Lucy's suggestion with a sarcastic tone. "That they're both stupid and love each other? No," she retorted, making it clear that the reality was far simpler. "They are going together either to the game or spa."

Lucy nodded in understanding, piecing together the situation. "Obviously it's a date but can't decide where to go."

As the day stretches on, the radio comes to life once again, dispatcher's voice cutting through the quiet of the shop.

"Attention all units in the area, we have a report of a stolen vehicle in progress. Last seen heading east on 5th Street. Suspect described as male wearing a red hoodie, driving a black sedan. License plate 7-Mike-India-John-2-5-9."

Nolan's eyes meet yours, both of you immediately springing into action. "You heard the lady," you say, already reaching for the radio to confirm your response. "Let's go, Nolan. We've got a car to find."

 With Nolan at the wheel, you scan the streets, eyes darting from one alley to the next, searching for any sign of the stolen car. Tim's shop trails closely behind, the tension palpable as you both race against the clock.

"Two points for the first one to get the suspect in custody," Tim challenges through the radio.

You can't help but fire back, a smirk evident in your tone. "Afraid you're gonna lose the football game, Bradford?"

Suddenly, you spot the stolen car ahead, "There it is!" you exclaim, urgency lacing your voice as you urge Nolan to step on the gas.

"Go, go, go! We've got 'em!" you exclaim, your heart pounding with adrenaline as Nolan accelerates, closing the distance between you and the suspect.

"Take the next left. We can cut them off at the intersection!" you shout, your voice filled with adrenaline-fueled excitement.

Nolan follows your instructions without hesitation, the shop skidding around the corner with precision as you close in on the stolen vehicle. With a burst of speed, you pull up alongside the suspect's car, effectively blocking their path and forcing them to come to a halt.

With adrenaline coursing through your veins, you swiftly exit the shop as Tim parks his car behind the stolen vehicle and sprints towards the suspect, but you're already a step ahead.

You draw your gun and level it at the suspect. "LAPD! Hands where I can see them!"

But then, you turn to Nolan with a knowing smile. "Officer Nolan, you have the honor," you declare, your tone proud as you watch him take charge.

Your rookie approaches the stolen car, his gun held steady as he orders the suspect out of the vehicle. "Get out. Put your hands on the hood."

With Nolan taking control of the situation, you turn your attention back to Tim, who's watching you from a few feet away. As your eyes meet, a sense of satisfaction washes over you, knowing that you've once again proven yourself in front of Tim.

"64, Bradford," you call out, "Start to think you really want that spa day."

Tim chuckles, a grin spreading across his face as he closes the distance between you.

"Don't get too cocky, Bug," he replies, "Day's not over yet."

You hold your head up high, meeting Tim's gaze with a determined look of your own as you watch Nolan take the suspect in custody.

"You're slipping, Bradford," you tease, your voice laced with amusement. "Better step up your game if you want to win those tickets."

Tim chuckles, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he leans in closer. "Careful, Bug." he murmurs, "Wouldn't want to get too comfortable in first place."

You raise an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corners of your lips. "Oh, I don't know," you shoot back, "I'm starting to think you enjoy being one step behind."

Tim's grin widens, his gaze never leaving yours as he leans against the patrol car. "Maybe I just like the view from back here."

You can feel your cheeks flush at his words, a soft laugh escaping your lips as you playfully shove his shoulder. "Smooth, Bradford."

Sergeant Grey lays down the rules at the Shadow Hills Shooting Range and you can feel the tension crackling in the air, mingling with the smell of gunpowder and sweat. Tim's presence beside you only adds to the intensity, his handsome, serious face and confident attitude drawing your attention like a magnet. You silently scold yourself for those thoughts. The earlier banter and Tim's remark about liking the view from behind made you question — again, after a long time of pushing down the feelings that blossomed for him — whether it can be something more between the two of you.

As Officer Dixon explains the rules, your eyes meet Tim's, a silent challenge passing between you. The competition is on, and neither of you is willing to back down.

With your heart pounding in your chest, you take aim at the target, your fingers steady on the trigger. But as you line up your shot, you can't help but steal a glance at Tim, his muscles flexing beneath the fabric of his uniform, his eyes focused and intense.

For a moment, you're distracted by the sight of him, the raw power and masculinity emanating from his every move. But then, you shake off the momentary lapse in focus, reminding yourself of the task at hand.

As the shots ring out, you and Tim fire with precision, each round hitting its mark with deadly accuracy. The tension between you is palpable, a silent battle of wills playing out on the firing range.

And when the last shot is fired and the smoke clears, you can't help but smirk triumphantly at Tim, your cocky grin mirroring his own. Despite the intensity of the competition, there's an undeniable attraction simmering beneath the surface—a spark of something more that threatens to ignite with every passing moment.

"Not bad, Bradford," you tease, "But I think I've got you beat this time."

But as Tim catches your gaze, his eyes lingering on you for a moment too long, you quickly compose yourself, the thrill of the competition still coursing through your veins.

"Care to make it interesting?" he murmurs, "20 bucks and 6 points if your Boot makes it out on top?"

Sergeant Grey calls the rookies to the firing line and Tim leans in close, his breath warm against your ear as he whispers teasingly. A shiver runs down your spine at the intimate contact, but you push it aside one more time. You can't resist the challenge, a grin tugging at the corners of your lips as you accept.

"I'll take that bet."

"Me too," Angela chimes in.

With the bet made, the three rookies take their positions and prepare to fire. Officer Dixon gives the signal, and they begin shooting at the targets.

But just as the competition heats up, Nolan's attention wavers, distracted by something in his peripheral vision. He stops shooting, his gaze fixed on whatever has caught his eye, and Grey barks at him to focus.

"Nolan!"

You shake your head in disbelief, frustration bubbling up as you realize your chance of winning the bet slipping away because of your rookie's distraction. Glancing over at Tim, you can't help but feel a pang of disappointment, knowing that this time, luck might not be on your side.

As Grey announces the results, everyone is waiting with bated breath to hear who will come out on top.

"So, finishing first with the most hits, fastest time, and tightest grouping... Officer Chen. Congrats. You are the new Mid-Wilshire champ," Grey declares, the sound of cheers and applause filling the air as Lucy accepts her victory.

Tim smirks as he collects his winnings from you and Angela, a playful glint in his eyes as he leans in closer, his lips dangerously close to yours and you can't help but hold your breath, aware of the eyes watching your every move.

"Looks like we're going to the game," Tim murmurs, his voice low and intimate.

You meet his gaze, a smirk playing at the corners of your lips. "Uh-huh, Bradford. We're tied. Spa still has a chance," you retort, your tone teasing despite the flutter of anticipation in your chest.

Grey's voice cuts through the air, bringing your attention back to the present. "Bradford, Y/L/N, you both tied for second," he announces, his words punctuating the moment with a sense of finality.

You can't help but groan in mock frustration, shooting Tim a playful glare. "I don't know what I hate more—tying for second with you or losing to a rookie."

As the weekend arrives, you and Tim find yourselves honoring the bet. With the score tied, you decide to indulge in both activities—starting with a relaxing day at the spa and ending with watching the big end-season game at Tim's place.

The scent of lavender filled the air as you and Tim relaxed in plush robes, sipping on refreshing cucumber water and enjoying the soothing ambiance of the spa. With each gentle stroke of the masseuse's hands, you found yourself drifting into a state of bliss, the worries of the week melting away.

After the spa, you and Tim retreated to his apartment, settling in for a cozy evening. Beers in hand, you lounged on the couch, the warmth of Tim's presence beside you sending a pleasant tingle down your spine.

But just as you start to enjoy the easy rhythm of the evening, there's a knock on the door, interrupting the peace.

Tim's expression darkens as he goes to answer it, clearly not pleased by the unexpected visitor. To his surprise—and evident displeasure—it's Lucy.

But despite his less-than-enthusiastic reaction, you quickly stand up, putting on a welcoming smile as you greet Lucy and invite her in. "Hey, Lucy! Come on in," you say, motioning for her to join you on the couch. "Want a beer?"

Tim's annoyance is palpable as he glances between you and Lucy, clearly not pleased by her unexpected visit. But you ignore his displeasure, focusing instead on making Lucy feel welcome and enjoy the football game.

“Hey, did you see—?”

Tim turns his head to make a comment about the play, but Lucy suddenly moves beside you, forcing you to shift quickly. Unaware of the short distance between you and Tim, you find yourself turning your head towards him, trying to give him your undivided attention.

Your faces are mere inches apart—lips almost touching, gazes locked in a heated exchange. Time seems to stand still as you linger in the charged silence, the air thick with anticipation and unspoken desire.

In that fleeting moment, every nerve in your body is alive, your heart pounding in your chest as you drown in the intensity of Tim's gaze.

His eyes seem to search yours, as if seeking permission to bridge the small gap that separates you. And for a heartbeat, you entertain the possibility—allowing yourself to imagine what it would feel like to lean in and capture his lips with your own.

But just as quickly as the thought crosses your mind, reality comes crashing back, and you pull away, retreating into the safety of your own space.

“More beer?”

Lucy makes her way to fetch more drinks, handing the popcorn to Tim. You seize the opportunity to lean back on the couch as you inch closer to the bowl in Tim's lap.

His hand instinctively wraps around you, pulling you close and your head finds its way to his shoulder, the warmth of his body seeping into your own. Tim's gaze falls upon you, his eyes softening as he takes in your closeness.

For a brief moment, you allow yourself to revel in the intimacy of the gesture, the world falling away as you lose yourself in the warmth of Tim's embrace. But as quickly as the moment began, it shatters, broken by the sound of Tim clearing his throat and shifting away, placing the popcorn bowl between you. creating a physical barrier.

When the final buzzer sounds, signaling the victory of your favorite team, you and Tim shoot up from the couch in excitement. Turning to each other, your eyes meet in a silent exchange, the unspoken tension between you crackling in the air. And then, without a word, Tim pulls you into his arms, the heat of his body searing against your own as you melt into his embrace.

In that moment, nothing else matters—not the game, not the world outside—only the two of you, wrapped up in each other's arms. For a split second, you allow yourself to surrender to the intoxicating rush of desire, the walls around your heart crumbling in the face of the overwhelming connection between you.

But as quickly as it began, the moment passes, and you find yourselves pulling away, the weight of your unspoken feelings hanging heavy in the air.

Lucy watched with growing frustration, unable to bear witness to your dance of denial any longer. With a determined glint in her eye, she finally snaps, her frustration boiling over into a burst of blunt honesty.

"Okay, I'm sick of this," she begins, "You're so blind and stubborn."

You and Tim both turn to her with confusion, unsure of what she's getting at. But before either of you can respond, Lucy cuts through the tension.

"Just kiss already, you stupid," she exclaims, her frustration bubbling over into exasperation.

And in that moment, something shifts. Tim's resolve crumbles, his feelings finally breaking free from the confines of his heart. Without hesitation, he leans in and captures your lips in a searing kiss.

It's everything you've ever imagined—and more. His lips are warm and soft against yours, fitting perfectly as if they were always meant to be there. Every touch, every caress sends sparks flying, igniting a firestorm of passion that threatens to consume you both.

You pull away quickly when you realized the kiss was evolving into something that shouldn't be happening in front of Lucy. With a smirk playing at the corners of your lips, you tease Tim.

"Was about time, Bradford," you quip, "Took you more than a decade to kiss me."

Tim, caught off guard by your boldness, can only manage a sheepish grin in response.

"Didn't know you wanted me to do that," he admits, his eyebrows rising with surprise.

"Yes! Mom and dad are finally together," she cheers, her eyes shining with excitement and a proud smile spreading across her face as she revels in the success of her matchmaking efforts.

But Tim's grumpiness returned in an instant as he realizes Lucy was watching their intimate moment.

"Chen, get out," he grumbles as he gestured toward the door.

Undeterred, Lucy flashes a teasing smile at both of you before opening the front door of Tim's house. "Yes, sir," she teases, her playful tone undercutting the seriousness of Tim's command. Before disappearing behind the closed door, she offers one last remark.

"Be safe," Lucy calls out.

"Fifty pushups before every call tomorrow!" Tim declares, his attempt to regain control of the situation falling flat in the wake of Lucy's teasing.

With a pleading look, Lucy turns to you, her eyes silently begging for your intervention. "Mom?"

You meet her gaze with a reassuring smile, knowing that you can't save her from Tim's grumpiness but offering a comforting presence nonetheless. "Good night, Lucy," you say gently.

[timbradfordslover]

Pairing: Tim Bradford X fem reader

Summary: You surprise your husband Tim in the locker room

Warnings: none

Word count : 342

Congrats Boot!

Y/N just found out that she's pregnant. She has been thinking about a funny way to tell Tim.

She goes to Babies R Us to get a few baby booties. Once she has purchased them, she hides them in her car for her plan tomorrow.

She had called Lucy to distract Tim while she got her surprise ready the day before. She gets to the station early to have Nolan make sure the men's locker room is clear and stand guard.

She goes in quietly and finds Tim's locker. She pulls 3 pairs of baby booties and sets them in there. Then she pulls out a piece of paper that says, "Congrats, boot!" and tapes it to the inside of the door. Once it's set up, she takes a picture before adding a small hidden camera.

She leaves to let Nolan know that she's done and asks him to text her when Tim goes in there. She quickly goes to the women's locker room to get changed into her uniform.

Ten minutes after waiting for Nolan to text her, she slowly walks behind Tim and waits for him to open his locker.

"What the— Tim says, trailing off. He looks around confused.

"Tim, turn around," Y/N says to him softly. He turns around at the sound of her voice and looks at her confused. "Y/N? Why are you in here?" He asks, still very much confused as to what's going on.

She smiles and gently grabs his hand and puts it gently on her stomach. "Guess," she says, looking back at his locker.

He looks back at it, still confused, before he looks back at her excited. "Wait, are you..." he asks, trailing off.

"Yeah, I'm pregnant." She says, smiling. "Really?! He says, holding her stomach gently.

“Yep, you’ll be a dad in a few months,“ she says, looking up at him.

“How am I supposed to focus through a 12-hour shift now?” He says kissing her gently.

“You better pay attention then, Boot.” She says, walking out of the locker room.

[lizziiszs]

deep and deprived - hiori yo

ʚ｡. mdni - nsfw, hiori yo/fem!reader .｡ɞ

content warning!:

-explicit mention of previous self-harm and insecurity surrounding it (thighs-specific)

-character is aged up. context is right after the u20s match but please note that i’ve written hiori as older as i find it more fitting (before the nel ‘ultra-sadist’ reveal).

[disclaimer: i am in no way promoting or romanticising sh, this is just me seeking comfort, projecting and making light of previous, personal experiences].

-ʚ｡. ✮✩✮.｡ɞ-

a/n!: so where do i start..a-levels are frying me. i have a combination of over 6000 words due for various subjects and tasks and i choose to spend a combined like 12 hours writing 2000 of hiori yo smut. and id do it again in a heart beat. im beyond ashamed of myself for even typing this out, enjoy x

um omg his southern accent was tough to write too...like hiori yer so fuckin hot ya really are but please speak normally ashshhsghgsdhga

overview: you and hiori have finally gotten round to going further- the only thing stopping you before is a huge insecurity: you’re self-conscious of your scars so its no surprise that you’ve kept it all a secret. you’re quick to find, however, that hiori likes them (and a little too much). 

contents: praise, first time (not inexperienced but w hiori), dacryphilia, brief thigh-fucking/jerking off with your thigh, oral sex, mutual masturbation, hiori jerks off with your panties, edging/subtle orgasm denial, pet names (angel, baby, pretty), slight voyeurism (not public), messy sex, arousal from guilt/shame, sadistic hiori <3

w/c: 2.1k

-ʚ｡. ✮✩✮.｡ɞ-

a glorious victory against the u20s, tides turning within the final minute. stadium roaring, cameras flashing, your bodies pressing against each other, the door of his locker rattling even as his teammates stand audible from round the corner. the final score? 4:3. that's why he's set on it being tonight. and so are you, despite the way that your body retracts beneath his right hand that weaves its way down your back. your feel your entire self lock up as his left hand inches up your thigh. 

this was something you'd had wanted and for so long- and more than anything. its not like you were afraid of intimacy. yet some lingering doubt pushes its way into your conscience; the state of your thighs with those marks plastered all over them. impulsive, fleeting moments of affliction- the blade in your phone case- its a bitter, somewhat suppressed memory that returns to you all at once, surging to the surface of your skin which stings hot beneath his touch. 

'hiori, it's all ugly.' your voice wavers as you place your hand over his, a pitiful attempt at diverting his attention. hiori doesn't move though. instead, he looks down at you, vacant eyes burning wide. 

'yer so pretty though...' hiori mindlessly slurs his words of endless praise together, the gaze of piercing but somehow empty eyes fixated on yours. you can’t even begin to imagine what you look like right now, and its best that you don’t. its difficult to decipher that anyways from the expression hiori makes before you sharply inhale, wincing as gentle fingers brush up against thin, raised scars. you avert your eyes away from his wandering hand and back up against the door, hiori stumbling forwards as you do. 

'careful hiori…’ you feel the heat of your own breath, lips resting no more than an inch from his head. delicate fingers trace up and down your inner thigh as he peppers quick kisses along your collarbone. you return the favour and press a quick kiss atop his head, a decisive move- you're aching with longing and you have to get over yourself. 

'i wanna do it,' kiss. 'now, yocchan.' 

‘sure, angel?’ hiori's fingers continue to traipse around your body, amorously undressing you and immediately upon a low ‘yes’ parting from your lips. his once wandering hands now pulling at the straps of your cami and tugging at your skirt. he kisses and he suckles as he mumbles incoherently about how beautiful you are, softly grinding against your thigh which he praises as ‘so fuckin’ hot’. the thighs you were so resentful of; a living reminder of how it'd be such a sick coping mechanism you'd turn to when distressed. the depravity of seeking respite in something so immoral, inflicting physical pain to yourself- it fills you with shame. and with those same, filthy legs you press against hiori, who’s precum begins to dribble down your ‘perfect’ thighs. 

'god yer fuckin' gorgeous, aren't ya?' hiori breathes through a kiss against your collarbone which sits prettily painted with small bruises, hand wrapping around himself as he's almost moaning, pressing it into your thigh for more relief. ‘whatcha think baby?’ 

‘i’m not sure yocchan,’ your speak quietly, admittedly, distracted by the way that he’s sweet-talking you whilst he starts to jerk off with your thigh, practically fucking it. he’s far too stubborn to ask you to bring your weak knees together, only envisioning making the flesh of your legs tremble with his every movement as they take his desperate cock that pulses against you, longingly. he imagines the lewd sounds he’d draw from you amidst sloppy, desperate kisses, long and pretty nails scraping down his back as you attempt to stabilise yourself- your entire being shaking and shuddering violently beneath him as you finally take him whole. maybe you’d muffle your moans as you weep, distressed and embarrassed as he stuffs and stretches you so. or maybe you’d beg him to go faster and harder, mocking him for being so damned slow, pace far too underwhelming and pathetic. maybe you wouldn’t even let you fuck him before cumming first- maybe you needed his head between your legs, tending to your neglected cunt before he even gets to think of it. 

‘fuck i betcha even taste as good as ya look,’ hiori rambles over and of his feverish thoughts, all whilst pumping himself between his own fist and your thigh, picturing you. ‘i wanna know whatcha taste like.’ 

and its hard to recall what happened in-between but he’s kneeling expectantly before you, backing you up against the door and fully. hiori makes light work of prying your legs open and his pretty hands remain gripping your lower thighs as he pushes his face against your pretty laced panties- the only thing you have on. and it makes you shiver at the sight- your body bare, every inch exposed visible under dim light with pebbled nipples and small gashes to your thighs on full display. and it gets hiori off; watching you tremble, vulnerable just from being seen. he can’t stop his mind from getting ahead of itself, train of thought interrupted by your sudden whinging. 

'yocchan it's not fair, you're still dressed.' 

‘i can’t be asked pretty,’

‘hioriii..’ you whine, embarrassed. and you’re ashamed that this feeling has you sopping wet. it turns you on, having your delicate, doll-like body in full-view. it’s how you gulp as both sinful and lustful eyes wander all over, admiring how your nipples harden against cold air, still waiting to be attended to and how the lace waistband of your sheer panties which sit stained in your arousal, cling to your hips

'come on then,’ he sounds somewhat inviting through that slight smirk as you both exchange eyes, ‘undress me too.’ 

‘fuck!-‘ you jolt as hiori licks a sudden stripe onto your panties, the hand you have wrapped in his hair fully yanking at it. your nails pry into his scalp as you cry out in ecstasy. 'if you wanna, that is.' he pushes his tongue teasingly up and against your slit- still clothed. he makes you shudder; wet and warm saliva seeps through thin fabric, mixing with your arousal that soaks through. hiori presses his nose against your clit, hoping that the next time your body jerks under his touch, your nails draw blood.

‘hah-ah…hiori..’ the friction between your panties that sit sticky with sweat, saliva and your slick is too much to bear yet its nowhere near enough- you buck your hips up against hiori's nose and into his head all in one decisive motion, hands entangled in his hair, tugging at it in order to take his numb face fully. he fucks you with his tongue, movements quick as he laps up at the both of your arousal, suckling at your throbbing clit which sits soaked in his spit between sloppy kisses to your cunt. its only when you blurt something about being close that hiori pulls away and looks up at you, panting as he shifts his weight and adjusts himself. 

‘yocchan..’ your body scrapes against the door frame as your legs finally give out, shaking. hiori's quick to tug at the waistband of your panties with his teeth, firm hands making light work of his boxers which now lie discarded round his ankles. 

you’re still coming down from your high that you never reached, eyes about as wet as you are, tainted by arousal. 

‘i just wanna come yocchan,’ you whisper, ashamed. maybe you should've actually fucking come and faster. hiori doesn’t respond but seemingly grows impatient, using his hands to pull your panties off entirely too. his now free lips plant small, comforting kisses on your thighs which are still laced in his precum;  although there’s nothing comforting about a ruined orgasm. ‘hiori, come on…’ you’re quick to find that you’re now begging him for more; to finish. each whine that trails off grants you more unwanted kisses against your fucking thighs as your neglected cunny aches at the ruin of your orgasm. it feels humiliating with your body bare, drenched in sweat, saliva, precum and your own arousal which dribbles onto the floor you weakly sit against. ribcage juddering with each weak breath you take, head pulsing and salt-ridden tears welling up in your eyes. you look at yourself, overcome with shame which has your entire self pleading for more. and that’s when you notice. he’s fucking himself with your panties. 

and you watch as he rocks forwards onto his knees, touching himself as he brings himself to kiss you whilst moaning your name. you feel so dejected yet you kiss him back, wholeheartedly. it's sick as he jerks off with your panties, smeared in your shared arousal- pre streaming down the hand which works his swollen tip with your laced cloth. he’s so enjoying this, seeing you ruined before you've even cum once. 

‘touch y’rself,’ hiori blurts, ‘go on, pretty.’ he’s as desperate as you are. hiori presses two wet kisses onto your lips before you even have time to consider. ‘i betcha sound good…’ 

you don’t consider and you just do. three fingers to your clit as you whine in defeat. 

'i can't make myself cum.' rough, messy circles which graze your swollen self again and again and again provide no relief, drowning in sharp pangs of jealousy that wash over you as you watch hiori, eyes rolled back as he groans your name. languid almost lazy strokes as he grinds his sensitive tip into torn, expensive lace. dismissing you entirely. he'd only brought you close to orgasm in order to better reach his own; the idea of denying you making him fucking throb.

‘suit yerself.' he murmurs, pace increasing with every cry he draws out of you. 'yocchan please', 'c'mon handsome'.

and you’re reminded of those tears which well up in your glass eyes; as vacant as his and in need of nothing but respite. pleasure and pain bleed into one as you start to sting under your fingertips. you throb too, the sight of hiori fucking his fist and your pretty panties; how he bites his lip as he watches you grind against yourself, begging for him to spare you just a finger. he fixates his eyes on your own as well as your thighs, shamelessly aroused by your distress and your anguish. thin streams of tears begin to drip down your face, mindless pleas interjected by uncontrollable sobbing. wet lashes and wide, pleading eyes beckoning to hiori as he comes undone, your eventual tears finally pushing him to orgasm. you watch as his body convulses, the way in which hot ropes of his cum spurt out onto your panties and dribble all down his hand that helps him ride out his orgasm. he moans something about how he loves you, too.  

'y'r too good for me,’ it takes a while but hiori finally comes down from his high, wiping the sweat from his forehead with his jersey. his jersey that clings to the sweet sweat of his now flushed pale skin, name proudly pressed to his back as the only item of clothing left that’s left untouched by the both of you. ‘fuck that was so good.' a sickeningly sweet smirk pressed onto thin lips which so lovingly coo at you; 'good girl.'

'i hate you.'

[thedreamingdevil]

Could I make a request where JiU is so exhausted and sleep deprived that she just goes along with anything that is suggested or asked of her? One guy realises this and gets her to agree to dry anal. After which, he convinces her to suck his cock clean.

Untitled 1: JiU

You're one of the staff members in DCC, and you've noticed that JiU has been utterly exhausted lately. The grueling schedule of 12-hour days, constant performances and promotions, and sleep deprivation have taken a toll on her.

She's so tired that she just goes along with whatever is suggested or asked of her by anyone. Her usual vibrant and bubbly personality has been reduced to a meek, submissive shell of her former self.

One evening after a particularly long day of practice, you corner JiU alone in an empty dance studio. She's sitting on the floor, her arms wrapped around her knees, her head resting on them in exhaustion. You crouch down next to her, placing a hand on her thigh.

"Yah JiU, you're looking really beat. How about you let me help you blow off some steam? I know just the thing to perk you up and get that cute ass of yours warmed up before bed," you say with a lecherous grin, giving her thigh a squeeze.

In her dazed state, JiU simply nods along, too tired to protest or refuse. "O-okay... if you think it'll help me feel better..."

You smirk, knowing you've got her exactly where you want her. You stand up and grab JiU by the arm, pulling her up into a standing position. "Great! Let's head to the locker room then. I'll 'relax' you so good, you'll be dreaming of my cock later."

JiU doesn't resist at all as you lead her by the hand to the locker room and shove her inside, closing the door behind you both. The locker room is dimly lit, with the inviting scent of JiU's body wash lingering in the air. You can't wait to rip her clothes off and violate her.

You turn JiU around to face the lockers, bending her over and making her brace her hands against the cold metal. You flip up her skirt to expose her round, perfect ass, clad in a thin white thong that's already damp. Licking your lips, you hook your fingers into the waistband and yank the flimsy underwear down around her thighs.

JiU whimpers as you spread her ass cheeks apart, exposing her dry tight pink asshole. Her breath hitches as you spit crudely on her entrance before pressing the thick head of your cock against it. You push forward, trying to breach her, groaning at how ridiculously tight she is without lube.

"Oh fuck, JiU, this tiny ass of yours is gripping me so hard... You're gonna have to relax for me 'cause I'm about to wreck this hole," you growl, giving your hips a sharp thrust to force your cock deeper into her unprepared asshole.

JiU lets out a pained cry, her nails scraping against the lockers as you stretch her open and cram more of your girthy shaft inside her uncomfortably. Tears sting her eyes and she sobs brokenly, feeling like she's being torn in half. You've barely gotten 3 inches in and she's already clenching and fluttering around you, trying desperately to force your huge cock out of her.

"Please, it hurts! Pull out, I can't take it any deeper!" JiU begs between her mewls of pain, squirming her hips and trying to dislodge you from her abused hole.

But you just laugh, reaching around to maul at her tits as you continue to force your way deeper into her tight heat. "Aw, don't be like that JiU... I'm being a nice guy and giving this pretty ass the anal wrecking it deserves. Take my cock like an obedient anal slut."

With those words, you slam your hips forward, burying yourself halfway in JiU's clenching hole with a wet squelch. She wails in agony, her pussy lips fluttering as copious amounts of blood and lube dribble down her thighs. Her hands scrabble weakly at the lockers, trying to brace herself against your harsh thrusts, but she's too small and weak to stop you from violating her most tightest hole.

You grope and squeeze at JiU's tits brutally as you rail her asshole, pinching and tugging on her nipples until she's a blubbering, drooling mess. Drool runs down her chin as she sobs, the pain overwhelming her tired mind. Your cock plunges into her over and over, forcing her tight ring of muscle to stretch obscenely around your girth.

"Fuuuck, JiU, your shitter is so goddamn tight... I'm gonna ruin this for anyone else," you grunt, giving her ass a spank that echoes through the locker room. JiU shrieks and clenches down around you, making her tight hole clamp down like a vice on your pistoning shaft.

You piston your hips harder, grunting and panting with the effort of tearing through her spasming walls. JiU is sobbing so hard she's practically hiccuping, utterly overwhelmed by the anal violation. Her body shudders with each cruel thrust, practically choking on her own drool as she gurgles and cries.

You pound into JiU's wrecked hole for what feels like hours, grunting and growling like a feral beast as you use her. Finally, with a loud groan, you bury yourself as deep as you can in her abused ass and unload, pumping thick ropes of cum deep into her bowels. JiU wails shakily as she's filled with your hot seed, her guts churning with the foreign substance.

As you pull out of her with a wet plop, JiU collapses to her knees, clutching at her bleeding, gaping asshole. Puss and cum ooze out of her, making a mess on the floor. You stroke your cock back into semi-hardness before grabbing a fistful of JiU's hair and yanking her head back.

"Clean up the mess you made. Suck my cock until it's spotless," you sneer down at her, rubbing the head of your dirty, cum-covered cock against her tear-streaked face.

JiU whimpers but obediently opens her mouth, extending her little tongue to lap submissively at your length. You thrust between her lips, groaning as she slurps and gags around you. Her throat constricts, massaging the cock with her muscles as you force her to deepthroat it.

You fuck JiU's face with cruel abandon, holding her head in place as she chokes and sputters, trying desperately to breathe through her nose. Spit froths out around your pistoning length as you use her mouth, reduced to a mere cocksleeve. JiU's eyes roll back in her head as she's forced to gag on your shaft over and over, drool pouring down her chin.

"Fuck yeah, take it deeper. Milk my cock with that throat," you groan, ramming into her convulsing esophagus until her nose is pressed against your pubic bone. JiU's eyes nearly cross, the squelches of you violating her throat filling the locker room. You hold her in place until her struggles grow weak, fighting her body's instinctive need to breathe.

Just when it seems like you might actually suffocate her, you pull out of her mouth, letting JiU collapse forward with a massive gasp. She coughs and wheezes, strings of drool connecting her puffy lips to your cockhead. "Good girl... now turn around and present your ruined asshole to me like the anal whore you are," you order, giving her ass a harsh smack.

JiU whimpers but scrambles to turn over, lifting her hips and reaching back to spread her bright red, puffy asshole for you. It gapes obscenely, a few drops of blood and cum oozing out. You groan at the sight, delivery a few more light spanks to her bruised cheeks before tucking yourself back into your pants.

"Alright slut, I think that's enough anal for tonight. You can go clean yourself up now," you say dismissively, like JiU is nothing more than a dirty rag for you to use and discard when you're done.

JiU sniffles and slowly pulls her skirt back down over her sore ass. She stumbles to her feet on shaky legs, wincing as her ravaged asshole twinges with pain. With a final whimper, she limps out of the locker room, leaving you to tuck your softening cock into your pants with a self-satisfied smirk.

You know JiU is so fucked out that she'll be agreeing to anything you suggest from now on. And you plan on taking FULL advantage of that.

[btssavedmylifeblr]

Void - Part 9 - Tuesday (M)

title banner by @rude–jude♡

Genre: Sci-fi with a little angst and a LOT of smut

Pairing: BTS x Reader (yup - all seven)

Summary: You are the only female crew member on a 12 year space mission with seven handsome men. The sexual tension is real, y’all.

Word Count: 5.7k

Part 9 / ?

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Warnings: explicit sexual content, entirely too much discussion about semen, some jealousy, possessiveness and slut-shaming, semi-accidental voyeurism

__________

A rush of cold air against your sweaty skin makes you shiver. It’s much cooler out here in the hallway than in the steamy sleep pod behind you. You leave Jungkook behind in the sleep pod, still getting his clothes back on, but your lingering arousal stays with you. 

You’ve barely made it two steps into the hallway when the door across from you opens. Jimin leans against the door frame. Damn, he looks good. He has the sleeves of his dark blue jumpsuit tied around his waist, leaving him in just a loose white t-shirt that rides up his arms as he crosses them. 

“Well, good morning to you,” he says. “And what have you been up to this morning?” The smirk on his face makes it clear he knows damn well what you’ve been up to this morning. 

“Umm…” You wiggle your hips in discomfort, the remnants of Jungkook sliding between your thighs. 

Mercifully, Jimin doesn’t actually make you tell him what you’ve been up to. “Do you have a minute to talk?” he asks, beckoning you to join him in his pod. 

Lord, you really don’t want to have an awkward relationship conversation with Jimin with Jungkook’s semen still inside you. You try to brush him off. “I have a lot of work to do this morning, Jimin.”

He snorts. “Seems like you’ve already gotten a lot done.” He lets the statement hang there as he smirks at you again. It’s very annoying how hot he is right now. 

The click of the door latch behind you startles you into action. The last thing you want is to be trapped in this narrow hallway with both Jimin and Jungkook. “Yeah, okay,” you say, diving into Jimin’s pod before Jungkook sees you. 

“So should I plan on waking up to the sound of you fucking other men every morning or only on Tuesdays?” Jimin asks as he closes the door.

“Well, not on Thursdays.” You are trying to flirtatiously deflect, but irritation flashes across Jimin’s face.

“Yes, well,” he mutters. “I guess I’ll just wait my turn.”

“Hey, you suggested sharing first,” you reply defensively. 

“With one man, not six.”

“Why does the number matter?” You’re already carving yourself into pieces to make them all happy, why did it matter how many? “You’ll still get your turn.”

“Bah!”Jimin stomps his foot in frustration. “I’m not some toddler who is bad at sharing a toy! I don’t want to have you just because it’s my turn.” He almost reaches for you again, but drops his hands in defeat. “I want you to want me.”

You sigh. “I do want you, Jimin.” Even first thing in the morning, with his dark hair falling loosely over his forehead, he’s the prettiest man you’ve ever seen. How can you explain that you are genuinely and specifically attracted to all of your crew members without sounding like a floozy? “I’ve wanted you ever since I watched that damn video of yours. And long before that too.”

“Really?” He bites his plush lower lip. “How long?”

You fold your arms and lean back against the other side of the pod. Memories come back to you of your space walk training at the bottom of the ICSE pool. Jimin always hated the overly warm training suits and would strip out of them long before reaching the men’s locker room. His sweaty t-shirts would stick to his skin, slightly translucent. It was impossible to keep your eyes off him as he’d laugh with the other guys and brush his hair back off his forehead, indifferent to your presence.  “Longer than you’ve wanted me,” you finally answer.

His eyes widen in surprise. “On Earth?” he asks. 

You nod. You chastise your past self for ever thinking that your insatiable thirsting for your crew wouldn’t become a problem eventually.

“Shit.” He runs his hand through his hair. “I had no idea.” He steps closer to you. “You were always so closed off.”

“Well, I’m not supposed to want you. Wanting you is highly inconvenient.”

He smiles as he leans in. “But you just can’t help yourself?” He glances down to your lips.

“Oh, don’t look so smug.” You push against his chest as his hands find their way around your waist. 

“I’m allowed to be smug.” He rests his forehead against yours. “The hottest woman in the universe wants me.”

You roll your eyes. “I’m the only woman in your—“

But his lips are on yours before you can finish your sentence, one hand gripping your waist as the other finds its way to the nape of your neck, pulling you deeper into the kiss. 

All your arousal that had been simmering just below the surface comes rushing back as his fingers caress your neck and along your jaw. His lips are just the right balance of soft and firm. You moan as he breaks away from your lips to begin kissing down the side of your neck. 

“But then how can you only want me on Thursdays?” he asks between kisses. “I want you every day. Mondays. Tuesdays. Wednesdays. All the time. God, I haven’t even bothered to remember what day of the week it is for the last two years and now it’s all I can think about.”

“I obviously don’t only want you on Thursdays.” You gasp as his hand finds your breast over your jumpsuit, closer to the surface then it would normally be since you abandoned your shirt with Jungkook. “I’m just trying to be fair.”

“Fairness is overrated.” He sucks on the junction of your neck and collarbone as you tilt your head back to give him more access. “Shit, are you not wearing a shirt?”

His hand is on your zipper before you can answer, tugging it down to discover the answer for himself. “Good lord,” he mutters, hands caressing your bare sides and breasts. “Where is your shirt?”

“I’m having a bit of a laundry problem.” You run your fingers through his hair, holding tight as he peels down your bra and runs his tongue across your nipple. “Somehow all my clothes are covered in cum.”

He groans out loud at that, sinking to his knees as he kisses down your belly, following the opening in your jumpsuit. “Shit, really? Jungkook?” And then he pauses and looks up at you. “What did he do?”

“You really want to know?” You ask and Jimin nods. You laugh. “It’s more what I did to him.”

“Tell me,” he urges. “And take this off.” He tugs at the bottom of your zipper. 

“Made him beg.” You shrug out of the jumpsuit, in your bra and panties once again. Your panties stick to you where Jungkook’s remnants have merged with your own arousal. Jimin’s eyes are glued to them. “Rode him until he came inside me.” 

Jimin licks his lips and looks up at you. “Can I see?”

You tilt your head curiously. “That doesn’t bother you?”

He laughs a little, shaking his head. “Maybe it will later, but right now, it’s just super hot.”

A whole new rush of heat runs through you as you slide your panties down. This is the dirtiest thing you’ve ever done. One man kneeling rapturously in front of you to see you covered in the release of someone else. It’s debauched and it’s glorious. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you wonder if you should stop this and wait for Jimin’s assigned day, but your logical brain vacated its post the moment Jimin knelt in front of you. 

“You do like being messy, don’t you?” He runs a careful finger along your labia and your legs tremble. “Doesn’t matter whose cum it is, does it?”

“Fuck, Jimin, please.” You tug on his hair, needing him to do something, anything. 

He gathers a glob on his finger before flicking it to the floor. He stands up and kisses you again, the hand sticky with cum now caressing your cheek. It’s both tender and filthy. And then he’s turning you around to face the wall of the pod. “Bend over.”

Your legs are trembling so hard you have to cling to the wall, but you allow him to guide you down so you’re bent at ninety degrees, hands on the wall, ass out. You hear him strip out of his clothes and then a finger slips inside you. 

“God, you’re so wet.” His hands grip your hips as he replaces his finger with his cock. “How many times did he get you off?”

Jimin eases his way into you and the tenderness makes you groan. “He didn’t,” you pant. 

“Amateur,’ Jimin scoffs. He reaches around to your front and finds your sensitive clit. The trembling in your legs gets stronger as he begins rolling his hips. 

“He wanted to,” you gasp. “Didn’t let him.”

“Don’t even care about your own pleasure, huh? Just want to take all the cock you can?” He pairs the teasing with a firm pressure from both inside and out and you’re shattering around him, unable to deny how much it turns you on to be used by them all. 

You hear the smile in Jimin’s voice, how proud he is of himself, as he tightens his grip on your hips and speeds up his pace.  

“You’re mine now though. You were mine first and you’ll always be mine. Whenever any of them fuck you, I’ll fuck them out of you. Replace them with me. The only cum you’ll be carrying around inside you is mine.” 

He stills, leans over to kiss your back and neck as he fills you up. You can feel his self-satisfied grin against the skin of your back. 

He slides out of you, patting your ass as he goes. Your whole body flushes as yet more cum leaks from you. God, you’re a mess. He kneels down behind you and picks up your panties, sliding them back up your legs. 

“That’s better,” he says as he slides them up and over your ass, trapping his cum against you.  

“Uh, thanks,” you reply, completely at a loss for what to say as a weird cold feeling begins churning in your stomach. You have the sudden worry that Jimin is going to expect every day to go like this, even those that aren’t his. “Gonna go clean up now.”

Jimin grins and kisses your cheek. “See you soon,” he whispers. 

______________

And so you find yourself once again attempting to de-sperm yourself in the space toilets. Another tinge of doubt washes over you as you stare at the flimsy compostable toilet paper and contemplate trying to do this every day for the next 12 years. Is that what you’ve committed yourself to? Multiple times a day? Multiple men per day? Surely they will grow bored of you eventually, right? This falls way outside your mission parameters. Maybe you should call this whole thing off.

Despite your best efforts with the toilet paper, you’re still gross and sticky. Your jumpsuit and underwear are gross and sticky too. There’s nothing for it. You need a shower and some clean clothes. 

Showers weren’t an everyday luxury on the Minos. You could only manage once or twice a week without outpacing the water reclamation system. Technically you weren’t due for another day or two, but you couldn’t wait any longer. 

The showers and the laundry machines sit in the same section of the ship near the water tanks. Before heading there, you jog back to your sleep pod to gather up the rest of your dirty laundry. Jungkook is long gone. Your shirt/make-shift blindfold lies thrown in a corner. As you gather up your scattered clothes, the stink of your laundry makes another way of regret wash over you. You were only one and half days into your new plan and all your clothes are covered in bodily fluids. This is exhausting. 

The laundry machines and showers also happen to sit right next to Yoongi’s workshop and you can’t help wondering about him as you walk in that direction. You haven’t seen him since your striptease in the kitchen.

“Okay, I’m in,” he had sent you. It betrayed so very little of what he’s thinking. And the question of what exactly he wants from you is still unanswered. But at least he has admitted to wanting you. Your stride slows as you pass his workshop, scanning with your peripheral vision while trying to look like you aren’t checking to see if he’s in there. 

But the workshop is dark and empty. Whatever his feelings for you, they will remain a mystery for now. 

God, what is the matter with you? You’ve already fucked two men this morning and here you are pining for a third. That can’t be normal, can it? The ICSE really fucked up when they decided to send the world’s horniest woman on this mission. 

You continue to chastise yourself as you load your laundry into the machines.  The laundry machines sit in a vestibule just outside the showers with a door to the hallway that locks, so you are able to strip off the clothes you are wearing now as well and run them through the laundry while you shower. Removing your wet underwear makes you cringe. How have you managed to go from “first woman to pass the orbit of Mars” to “woman with two different men’s semen in her underwear”?

You’re so preoccupied with your self-slut-shaming that you don’t hear the water running behind the shower door. The door was unlocked and there weren’t any clothes in the machines, so you just assumed the shower was empty. But you are wrong.

Flight Engineer Min Yoongi is standing in the shower completely naked and dripping wet. His back is to you as he washes his face. His long dark hair runs down over his shoulders. When did his hair get so long?

He doesn’t see you, face still covered in soap, but turns his head as the door clicks open. “Hey! Occupied!” he calls out. 

“Oh shit!” you curse, backing up. Shit. You’re naked too. Shit. All your clothes are in the washing machine and must be soaking wet by now. You attempt to cover yourself with your hands as you debate how to get out of here.

“Oh, is that you, Officer?” he chuckles, wiping the soap and water from his eyes before turning to greet you, smirk on his face. “I thought I wouldn’t be seeing you until Friday. Come to get a sneak peek?”

Your face is on fire, you are so embarrassed. “Shit, sorry, I didn’t know anyone was in here.”

He looks totally calm, running his gaze up and down you luxuriously. “No worries. We are in a ‘consensual sexual relationship’ now, aren’t we? Or should I be hiding my dick from you Saturday to Thursday?”

His demeanor is infuriating and you feel so foolish. “Why didn’t you lock the door?”

He shrugs. “Tuesdays are my shower day. No one is ever here but me.” He looks you up and down again and there is really no hiding anything from him. “The real question is what are you doing here?”

Shit. How do you get out of this conversation? “I, umm, needed a shower.”

He laughs, turns off the water and shakes his head, long hair sending drops of water flying around the sealed room. “You know this plan of yours is gonna fuck with our whole shower schedule, right?” 

It’s hard to focus on what he’s saying as he wraps his hand around his hair and pulls it up into a bun behind his head.

“When did your hair get so long?” Your voice is higher pitched than normal and you grimace.

“Oh yeah…” He tucks one of the shorter loose strands behind his ear. “It’s been getting in my way. I was going to ask if you might have time to cut it on Friday.” He pulls a towel from the wall behind him and wraps it around his waist. 

“Oh, no, no, no…” you rush out, heart skipping a beat at the allusion to your day with him.

“Oh.” He frowns. “Okay. That’s fine.”

“No, I just mean, don’t cut it.” You giggle nervously. “I just mean, uh, it looks good. As is.”

“Aha.” He grins and you watch a water drop glide from his jaw down his throat. “Well, in that case, I imagine there are more enjoyable things we could be doing…” He walks closer, and reaches toward you as your heart races. You close your eyes and give up trying to  cover yourself as his warm wet body comes right into your personal space. “On Friday,” he finishes, reaching the door handle behind you and popping it open. 

God, you hate him. “Um, yeah, sounds good,” you mutter as you dive out of his way. 

“Looking forward to it,” he replies, eyes dark with intention, before heading out the door. “Enjoy your shower, Officer.”

______________

A shower has you feeling much more like yourself again. But when you get to the kitchen for breakfast, you nearly walk right back out when you see who’s gathered around the table. 

Jin, Jungkook, Jimin and Taehyung are all sitting at the table, munching on their breakfasts. The prospect of sitting next to three different men you’ve watched orgasm in the last 24 hours makes the idea of eating feel entirely impossible. Not to mention the very hot man you are just pretending to sleep with. How has your life gotten this messy?

You are about to flee down the hallway when Jin looks up and makes direct eye contact with you. 

“Good morning!” Jin greets you and suddenly all four men’s eyes are on you. “Come sit with us!” He pats the chair next to him. “Taehyung made scorched rice.” 

Your brain helpfully chooses this moment to remind you that the last time you saw Jin, you came on his face. 

Taehyung nods enthusiastically and mumbles through a mouthful of rice. “There’s plenty left.” He swallows and gestures to the pot on the cooktop. 

Jungkook springs up from his seat. “I’ll get you some!” He pulls out the chair between him and Jimin, not the one Jin was suggesting. “Have a seat.” 

“Oh, uh, thanks, but I need some coffee too.”

“I’ll get it!” Jimin pops up too. “You rest.” He also clearly gestures at the seat that would put you next to him and Jungkook. Jin frowns slightly, while Taehyung bites back a laugh. 

“Oh, okay…” You run out of objections and sit down at the table while Jungkook and Jimin run to bring you breakfast. “This really isn’t necessary,” you mumble, but they’re not listening. 

Jungkook returns first with a bowl of stew and a plate of scorched rice for you and then sits down next to you. The memory of him on his knees begging to touch you flashes across your mind.

You take a bite of your food as the other men at the table resume eating. Jimin returns a minute later with your coffee. You take a sip and grimace at the too sweet concoction. Jimin still doesn't know how you take your coffee.

“Something wrong?” Jimin asks. 

You swallow it down. “No, it’s fine. Thank you.”

There’s a few moments of silence while everyone eats, before Jin nudges Jungkook with his elbow. “Seems like someone got a pretty early start this morning, huh?” he says teasingly.

“Jin!” you gasp as Jungkook chokes on his food. “You can’t just say things like that!” You pat Jungkook on the back to make sure he doesn’t die. 

“What?” Jin shrugs. “Isn’t everything supposed to be out in the open now?”

“Mmm,” Taehyung nods, hiding his mouth behind his hand as he laughs. “Like the bonobos.”

“Fucking bonobos.” Jimin groans. 

“It seems more awkward not to talk about it.” Jin continues. “We all heard him in there. Why pretend otherwise?”

Jungkook finally manages to swallow. “You heard us?”

“The walls aren’t thick,” Jin laughs. “Impressive that you can go two rounds that early in the morning. Ah, to be young.”

“Two rounds?” Jungkook frowns in confusion. Your entire face feels like it will melt off. Jimin says nothing, but his hand finds your knee under the table next to him and squeezes it.

“Speaking of,” Taehyung interrupts. “Can I take you on a date tomorrow night?”

“We can take you on dates?” Jungkook asks.

“Um yeah, sure.” You answer both questions at once. “Though it’s not like there’s really anywhere to go.”

“Don’t worry. I have a plan,” Taehyung nods smugly. 

“Can I take you on a date today?” Jungkook interjects. “Or do you only get one shot per day?”

“Uh… I don’t know. I didn’t really make rules that specific.”

Jimin’s thumb traces small circles around your knee and it’s a reminder that you’re not really sticking to even the limited rules you set out in the first place. Seven men is entirely too many men.

The conversation is mercifully interrupted by a shipwide message on your tablets. It’s from the commander. 

“A reminder to all crew members that any activities of an intimate nature are to be conducted in the privacy of the sleep pods. They are not appropriate for the public areas of the ship, which are monitored and recorded.”

The choice to put this in a written communication rather than an in-person conversation is surprisingly passive aggressive for Namjoon.

Taehyung looks at you. “What did you do?”

“She took all her clothes off in the kitchen!” Jin laughs.

“Excuse you! I covered the camera! You’re the one who ran me ass-first into our commanding officer!”

Jin sighs in delight. “Man, you should have seen his face.”

Jimin’s hand slides further up your leg and you’ve had enough. “Thank you all so much for breakfast, but Hoseok must need me in the lab by now.” You gather the remainder of your breakfast into your arms and back out of the kitchen. “I’ll see you later.” You’re not even sure which man you’re talking to. All of them really. There’s no escape. You will see all of them later. 

____________

For all your attraction to Hoseok and disappointment that he hasn’t signed your form yet, at the moment, you are a bit relieved. Hoseok puts on another science podcast and the two of you settle into your work for the day, safe in the knowledge that no one will come to proposition you. 

Or so you think until the end of the day, when Jungkook shows up at the lab door with a large plastic storage bin under one arm. Hoseok spots him first. 

“Hey, JK, what’s up?” he asks. “Do you have more samples for us?” He gestures to the box under Jungkook’s arm. 

“Oh, no.” Jungkook swallows, glancing down at the box. “It’s actually food.”

“Food?” Hoseok asks.

Jungkook steps farther into the lab. “I was hoping to treat our biologist to a dinner date.”

“Oh!” You and Hoseok are surprised in unison. 

“So you two are dating now?” Hoseok asks, looking back and forth between the two of you with raised eyebrows. “I thought this whole thing was just...” 

He trails off without saying the rest of the thought out loud and a frown line appears between his eyebrows.

“I’m not really clear on myself.” Jungkook takes this as an invitation to put the bin down on the lab counter and turn to you. “What are the rules exactly? Are we dating? Are we dating all the time or only on Tuesdays? Is it time-bound and when does it end? Does it end at midnight or can we fall asleep together? Can I hold your hand? Can I kiss you? Can I only kiss you on Tuesdays?”

Hoseok’s frown deepens and you rush to cut off Jungkook’s torrent of questions. “It’s not dating,” you try to explain. “We’re not…It’s not a relationship. I’m just trying to help people fill the void of what they’re missing from Earth. Like if they miss dates, we can have dates.”

“But it doesn’t mean anything?” Hoseok asks and you are totally stumped for what he wants the answer to that question to be. “You’re just pretending to be together one day a week?”  

“It’s not personal…” you reply, glancing back and forth between the two men, unsure which one you should be reassuring right now. 

But how could it be personal when you’re the only option? Like obviously they wouldn’t be choosing to date you on Earth. None of them chose you at all. They just miss sex and relationships and you can help them with that. But you can’t let yourself pretend it’s real. Or that it’s about you. 

“Nevermind.” Hoseok begins packing up his stuff. “It’s none of my business. I’ll leave you to your date.” The word “date” has a sarcastic bite to it that is unusual to hear in Hoseok’s voice. The temperature of the room seems to drop as he slings his supply bag over his shoulder and leaves. 

Jungkook turns away from you and busies himself unpacking food from his box onto the counter. His shoulders are a bit slumped and you really wish you could have talked to him alone. “It’s nothing fancy,” he mutters. “Just some sandwiches and drinks.”

You walk over and rest your hand on his shoulder. “That’s really thoughtful, Jungkook, thank you.” He freezes for a moment when you rest your hand on his back, then sighs and leans into your touch. 

“I’m sorry,” you murmur as you rub his back. He tilts his neck back and forth and groans in a pleased way. “We can hold hands. If you want. And you can kiss me.”

That’s all the greenlight Jungkook needs as he spins around and pulls you into his arms, He gives you a hungry kiss, then pulls back. “God, I would love you seven days a week if you’d let me.” 

“I know, Jungkook.” A real tinge of sadness creeps into the edges of your mind. You can imagine a world in which it’s just you and Jungkook, passing the time to Europa in an endless string of orgasms and increasingly athletic sexual positions on every surface of the ship as he finds new ways to get you off. You hear Yoongi’s voice chastising you again. Nobody actually gets what they want.

But your regrets quickly melt away the more you kiss him. His kisses are full of fire and desperation. If anything, he seems even more eager than he was this morning. The memory of him kneeling before you, begging to be inside you, is intoxicating.

“I owe you an orgasm,” he murmurs between kisses. 

You can get on board with that plan. “Maybe we skip dinner,” you say as you start steering him toward the door. 

He finds your zipper. “Aww, but I worked so hard. I can get you off and we can still have time for dinner.”

Your hand stops his from pulling down the zipper any further. “Jungkook, this is the lab.”

“So?” Jungkook is too focused on running his hands up and down your hips and ass over your clothes.

“So…” you grab his hands to get his focus back on your face. “Namjoon said sleep pods only.”

There is more to it than that. Something about the lab feels particularly like a betrayal. But it’s hard to put into words. 

“Oh come on, he just doesn’t want us on the cameras.” He starts guiding you by your hips toward the lab bench in the corner next to the door. “But I know where all the camera blindspots are.”

“I don’t know…”

“Just let me show you.”  Continuing to kiss you, he slowly backs you up into the wall just to the right of the door. He leans his forearms on the wall above you, caging you against the wall in between the door and the lab counter. “Pull out your tablet,” he commands.

The camera feed of the lab visible on your tablet appears to show an empty room. “See,” he says, kissing your neck. “No one here. Nothing to see.”

He picks you up and sets your ass on the edge of the lab bench. You like being manhandled by him more than you care to admit. He wiggles his eyebrows mischievously. “And this gets you to just the right height…” And then he’s dropping to his knees again. 

“I don’t know…” Your position up on the counter allows you to see out the window in the center of the lab door and out into the hallway. “What if someone sees us?” You want to sound concerned, but honestly the idea has you squeezing your legs together enthusiastically at the risk. 

“They can’t see us from the main hall. They’d have to be coming into the lab.” Jungkook’s hand cups your jaw and turns your face back down to him. “Watch me.” 

God, he’s so hot. Muscular hands and large eyes fixed entirely on you. 

“Okay, okay, but be quick about it.” You shuck your jumpsuit and underwear down your legs. 

“Yes, Ma’am.” He starts tracing little circles with his fingers up one thigh and trailing soft kisses up the other. “You remember when you were cutting my hair?”

“Yes….” you groan as his fingers reach the very top of your thigh, just short of where you really want them.

“And you were pulling my hair and using it to get my head in just the right position?”

You nod, ability to speak temporarily suspended as his mouth reaches the tender skin where your thigh meets your hip. 

“Well this is all I’ve been dreaming about since then. So feel free to hold on.” He scoots even closer on his knees, resting your legs on his shoulders and guiding your hands to his hair. 

You weave your hands through his soft dark hair and he groans. Arousal floods through you at the sound, your body responding in kind to how turned on he is. And then he dives in. 

He starts slow, but firm, no hesitation. Long slow strokes of his tongue around your clit, holding a steady rhythm. 

“Fuck,” you gasp. “How are you perfect at this too?”

He chuckles, so self-satisfied. “I’m a fast learner. Now will you relax and stop thinking?”

And you give yourself permission to let your guard down. To close your eyes. To relax into the sensations, the pleasure, the slow steady build. You’re so wet and open you barely notice when he slides a finger inside you, but you do jolt forward when he matches that steady pressure on your clit with internal pressure from his finger. It’s so good, you moan out loud and grip his head tighter.

Your eyes remain tightly shut, but you can hear his grin as he groans. “I’m going to make you come so hard.” The pride in his voice, the pleasure, it’s irresistible. 

And the pleasure builds and builds until it is overwhelming, almost beyond what you can tolerate, hands clenched in his hair for dear life, unsure if you’re trying to pull him off or press him in further. But the stubborn man holds his position, even as your hips buck against his face. “Fuck, Jungkook, fuck…” 

And you’re breaking, shattering into pieces under his tongue and clenching hard around his fingers. 

“Ugh…” you groan, leaning your head back on the lab cabinet behind you. Your breathing slows as you calm down, fingers still tangled in Jungkook’s hair as you open your eyes. 

There’s a face in front of yours when you open your eyes. His eyes are so dark that it takes you longer than it should to realize that they're not Jungkook’s eyes. Jungkook is still down on his knees as you process that the other man is standing in the hallway, watching you through the window. 

“Shit,” you gasp, yanking Jungkook away from you. “Hoseok…”

How long has he been there? How much did he see? Was he watching you? His gaze flicks up from where he’s been staring at the connection between you and Jungkook and meets your eyes. The intensity there is so overwhelming that it’s hard for you to make sense of it. Is it anger? Lust? Disgust? Then his eyes go wide as he realizes you see him and he disappears from view.

“Not exactly the name I was hoping you’d yell when you climaxed on my face…” Jungkook grumbles as he stands up and wipes his face on the sleeve of his jumpsuit. 

“Shit, sorry,” You reply as you frantically fight to get your clothes back on. “He was here, he saw us. I have to go.”

“But…” Jungkook gestures across the lab. “I brought dinner.”

“Sorry,” is all you can manage before you race out into the hallway. 

“Hoseok!” you yell as you run down the corridor. “Hoseok, come back!”

He’s not in the kitchen. He’s not on the bridge. “Officer Jung, report your location,” you try on your radio, but receive only silence. 

You are panting by the time you reach the sleep pods. The door to his is closed. “Hoseok!” you shout as you bang on the door. “Hoseok!”

You hear shuffling around inside the sleep pod and know he’s in there. “Hoseok!” you yell, almost on the verge of tears. “Hoseok, please talk to me.” 

The door opens just a crack, not enough to see him. “Please, Hoseok, I need to talk to you,” you plead. 

“I… I… can’t.” he stammers. “I can’t right now. Please. Just… just go away.”

Your stomach is full of lead as you shuffle into your own sleep pod next door and rest your head and arms against the wall, desperately trying to catch your breath. 

He hates you. You disgust him. You’ve betrayed everything you stand for. You’ll never be able to work in the lab again. 

A small knock on the door interrupts your thought spiral. 

“Hoseok?” you ask optimistically, scrambling to get up. 

“No, Jungkook again.” The hot ball of shame in your guts glows even brighter. 

“I’m sorry, Jungkook, I can’t right now…” If you see anyone else, you’re going to cry.

“I have dinner for you.”

“I’m sorry.” The idea of eating anything right now feels entirely impossible. “I’m not… I’m not hungry.”

A long exhale comes from the other side of the door. “Okay, goodnight.”

You collapse to the floor of your sleep pod as the weight of all your shame and guilt and irresponsible choices crashes down upon you. 

_____

Part 10

[prettygirl-gabi]

Chapter 12: The Storm We Needed

Rating: General Audiences

Warning: none

Paring: Paige Bueckers x !photographer fem reader

Fandom: Women's basketball

Summary: Silence speaks volumes or so you think...

Welcome to the chapter 12 of Through The Lens. I hope you all enjoy and there is more to come...stay tuned my loveies!! 🏀💕📸

Paige’s POV

The silence between Y/N and me was deafening. No texts, no calls, not even a glance my way at practice. She was physically present but emotionally miles away. I tried to give her space after her grandmother’s pep talk, hoping she’d come back to me on her own terms. But it had been weeks, and I was losing my patience.

I wasn’t one to play games, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

That’s how I found myself at Ted’s Bar with Azzi, Ice, and a few of our other teammates. The place was packed as usual, a mix of students and locals spilling drinks and conversations into the dimly lit space.

I knew Y/N didn’t like going out much, but I’d overheard her mentioning that her roommates were dragging her here tonight. A part of me hoped seeing me with my teammates would get a reaction out of her—anything to shake her out of this funk and bring us back to each other.

But things didn’t go as planned.

Y/N’s POV

I didn’t want to come to Ted’s, but my roommates insisted. They claimed I needed to “get out of my head” and “live a little.” I couldn’t argue—I had been stuck in a cycle of overthinking and avoidance since that night in the locker room with Paige.

I spotted her as soon as I walked in. She was sitting in a booth with Azzi and the team, laughing and tossing back fries like she didn’t have a care in the world. My chest tightened, but I forced myself to look away.

“She’s trying to make you jealous,” my roommate whispered, nudging me as we made our way to the bar.

“Whatever,” I muttered, focusing on the drink menu. “She can do what she wants.”

But my resolve faltered when I felt a presence too close for comfort.

“You don’t belong with her, you know.”

I turned to see a girl, clearly drunk, swaying slightly as she leaned into my space. She was a UConn student—I recognized her from campus.

“Excuse me?” I asked, my voice sharp.

“She’s too good for you. Paige and Azzi make sense. You’re just… a leech, riding on her success.”

Her words were a dagger to the chest, but I refused to show it. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. Back off.”

The girl scoffed, taking another step closer. “Oh, I know exactly what I’m talking about. You’re nothing compared to Azzi—or any of them. Paige is out of your league, and everyone knows it.”

Paige’s POV

I spotted the scene unfolding from across the bar, and my blood boiled. Y/N looked cornered, her jaw tight and her eyes flickering with unease. The girl in front of her was visibly drunk, but that didn’t excuse her behavior.

“Hey!” I barked, storming over. “What the hell is your problem?”

The girl turned to me, her face lighting up in drunken glee. “Paige! Perfect timing. Tell her she doesn’t belong with you. Everyone knows you and Azzi are meant to be.”

Azzi, who had followed me, groaned audibly. “For the last time, stop shipping us! Paige and I are just teammates. Get over it.”

I stepped between the girl and Y/N, my voice low and dangerous. “You don’t talk to her like that. Ever. Apologize.”

The girl scoffed, crossing her arms. “Why should I? She’s just a—”

I didn’t let her finish. “Enough,” I snapped. “You’re done here.”

She looked ready to argue, but Azzi and Kk flanked me, and the girl finally backed off with a muttered curse.

I turned to Y/N, my anger fading into concern. “Are you okay?”

She didn’t answer. Instead, she grabbed her bag and bolted for the door.

Y/N’s POV

I couldn’t breathe. The humiliation, the anger, the overwhelming ache of it all—it was too much. I stepped into the rain, the cold droplets soaking my hair and clothes, but I didn’t care.

“Y/N!” Paige’s voice called out behind me, but I didn’t stop.

“Leave me alone, Paige!” I shouted, my voice breaking.

She caught up to me, grabbing my arm and spinning me around. “No! I’m not leaving you like this. Talk to me!”

“What do you want me to say?” I yelled, tears mixing with the rain on my cheeks. “That they’re right? That I’m not good enough? That I hate myself for loving you because it feels like everyone else hates me for it?”

Paige’s eyes widened, her grip on my arm tightening. “You… you love me?”

I froze, realizing what I’d just admitted. “I—”

Before I could say anything else, she cupped my face and kissed me.

The rain fell harder, drenching us both as her lips moved against mine, soft but desperate, like she was trying to convey everything she couldn’t put into words. I melted into her, my hands gripping her jacket as the world around us disappeared.

When we finally pulled apart, she rested her forehead against mine. “You don’t get to push me away, Y/N. Not when I love you too.”

My heart stuttered, and I searched her eyes for any hint of doubt, but there was none. Only sincerity.

Paige’s POV

The rain didn’t stop, but neither did we. We stood there, holding each other, letting the world fade away.

“I don’t care what people say,” I whispered. “I’m not letting them decide who I can love. And I love you, Y/N. You, and no one else.”

She nodded, tears still streaming down her face. “I’m scared, Paige.”

“I know,” I said, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “But we’ll figure it out together. I promise.”

Over the next few weeks we didn’t hide our relationship from the team or our families—they already knew. But when it came to the public, we kept things quiet. Or at least, we tried to.

Despite our best efforts, the rumors started swirling again after a fan posted a video of us leaving the bar that night. And during a post-game interview, a reporter finally asked the question outright:

“Paige, are you and Y/N dating?”

I opened my mouth to respond, but Azzi cut in smoothly. “Next question, and make it basketball related,please.”

The team burst into laughter, and I couldn’t help but smile. Y/N, sitting off to the side with her camera, rolled her eyes but sent me a small, knowing grin.

We might not have had everything figured out, but one thing was certain: we had each other. And that was enough.

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

       -Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

                             -prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

Tag list: @sayurireidotcom , @astroeliza , @paxaz535 , @0phantom0 ,.... (more to be added)

[shadow4-1]

I'm just imagining having a great track day with Ghost but getting so exhausted that the two of you fall asleep on the gym floor.

Like, you aced the hurdles and the dashes with no issue. The obstacle course wasn't even that with how you breezed through it. You had some issues with the rope climb, but Ghost had taught you the technique last session. And voila! You beat your last time and came out on top of the rookies once again.

Ghost was built for his brawn. While he also aced his turn, it was obvious he didn't have some of the dexterity you possessed and therefore had to put more energy into not knocking into things. He also came out on top of the rookies and over your time. You scoffed but offered him some water.

The summer was upon you, and with it, it's gentle heat that quickly turned to burning rage. You could feel a prickly tightness on the back of your shoulders and neck. Not sunburn quite yet, but probably close. The drier air wicked the moisture from your mouth as you panted.

"M' gonna head in." You huffed, gesturing to the gymnasium's open back door. "Do n' equipment check."

He nodded at you, the front of his mask rising and falling quickly. Something about seeing him pant in his mask tickled you. You headed towards the gym and the moment you stepped inside you couldn't help but sigh. The air conditioning was cool and refreshing. Instantly, you could feel the heat in your bones being drawn out towards your skin.

With a soft hum you began an equipment check. The longer you stood at the racks, check marking boxes and organizing the weights, you felt heavier and heavier. You checked the time, 12:45. No wonder you felt so drained.

It was the midday slump.

Well, as soon as you were done you could get a shower and probably get a nap before mess. The sound of the gym's back door closing made you jump. Oh no....

"Please tell me you didn't close that door." You whined at Ghost.

Just as you suspected, he still had his hand on the door handle. You facepalmed.

"Gaz has the keys. And he's not coming back till three."

"Wot 're you talkin' about?" Ghost huffed, trying the other set of gym doors. Just as you suspected, yeah, they were locked. He jiggled them firmly, eyes dark with annoyance.

"Thanks, Ghost. We're locked in here for awhile."

He went to try the locker room doors and those too were locked. You raised a brow at him but opted to sit against one of the bare walls. There was no point in getting upset.

Gaz would be back in a little while. Besides, the gym had the best air-conditioning out of all the buildings since it'd been first on the list for an upgrade last year. Even if you went back to your bunk, the the likelihood of getting a comfortable nap would be low.

You could hear Ghost messing with the door locks but you knew it was a lost cause. He didn't have the tools to open it, and if he brute forced it open Price would be on his ass for repairs. Just as you expected, it didn't take him long to give up.

"When's Gaz getting back?" He huffed, rolling up his longsleeve just enough to get a glance down at his sports watch.

"Three."

He set his watch's timer with a few beeps before crouching into a sitting position next to you. The next few minutes were spent in a cool silence. Occasionally the a/c units would hum to life, drone and puff cool air over your still hot body, and then click off.

"Didn't bring your phone?" He asked, voice more tired than usual.

"Nope. Left it in the locker room." You shrugged. "Didn't bring yours?"

"No." He muttered, glancing at the locker room with his eyes only.

More minutes ticked by. The cool linoleum leeched even more heat out of your skin. The overhead lights were motion activated, and so most of them had flicked off awhile ago. It was cool and dim and your body was tired from exertion.

You couldn't help but start nodding off.

"Falling asleep, Sergeant?" Ghost mused, looking down at you through the holes in his soft mask.

"Oh, don't act like you're not feeling it too." You huffed, curling up into your arms. "M' tired."

Ghost hummed. Whether in agreement, you couldn't tell. You didn't really care. How could you when sleep creeped in from the edge of your vision.

"Can I lean on you?"

"Wot?"

"Can I lean on you?" You asked him again. "I don't wanna lay on the floor but I wanna take a nap."

"Sure..."

You scooted closer to him and rested your head on the top of his arm. It was a bit uncomfortable with how firm it was at first but it was certainly softer than the floor. It didn't take long for you to feel your lids drooping again.

Right as you were pulled under, you felt Ghost shift. There was a warm presence against the crown of your head.

If you weren't half asleep you might've thought he'd kissed your forehead.

[thealternateuniverse]

Jealous

Aomine Daiki x Reader

"That's disgusting, Kise," you grimaced as Kise threw his towel, drenched in sweat, toward you.

"Rin-chi, come here," he motioned for you to come closer.

You stopped yourself from slapping him. He didn’t seem bothered by the fact that they were losing to Touo. It was the fourth quarter, and Touo was leading by 12 points. Kaijo’s loss against Seirin had already been tough enough, but Kise seemed to have different priorities tonight. Just like Daiki—Aomine, who usually found the game boring but was actually playing hard today.

You glanced toward Touo’s bench and quickly looked away when you noticed Aomine staring in your direction.

"What happened to the game plan, Kise?" You crossed your arms, looking down at him as he sat on the bench, chugging his Gatorade.

"Change of plans. Something’s wrong with Aominecchi. He seems determined to crush me today."

Kise's words made sense. Something was off with Aomine. He was playing, but it felt more like he was competing with Kise. The first quarter had gone fine, but since then, Aomine had been focused on preventing Kise from scoring or even trying to foul him.

"And?" You raised an eyebrow.

Kise grinned mischievously before answering.

"Nothing. I’ve got some ideas now. I think I know what to do," he said, standing up.

You scrunched your nose when Kise threw his arm over your shoulder and playfully kissed your forehead, just like he always did when teasing you. It was disgusting. He didn’t smell bad, but he was drenched in sweat, and it was sticking to you. You pushed him away, but he only laughed.

"Damn, focus, Kise," you muttered.

Kise shook his head, grinning, before running back to the court as the timeout ended.

------------------se

The fourth quarter was even more intense. Aomine was one foul away from being benched, but he guarded Kise like a hound dog. If you didn’t know them better, you'd think they were about to start a fight at any moment—one foul from either, and it could have turned ugly.

"What's up with number 5?" Mitsuhiro muttered, frustrated. They had noticed it too.

Touo won by 6 points. Kise's attempt to narrow the gap to 3 failed, as Aomine was relentless in preventing him from scoring throughout the quarter. After the handshake, Kise whispered something to Aomine, which seemed to put the latter in an even worse mood. Despite the win, Aomine didn’t look happy. He shot one last glance in your direction before heading to the locker room.

Kise, on the other hand, seemed to have won. He didn’t look upset at all when they all returned to the bench.

"What was that about?" You asked him.

"Nothing, Rincchi. Aominecchi is still Aomine," Kise replied with a grin, then threw his arm around your shoulders, dragging you toward the locker room.

"Come on, Rincchi. Let's grab some ice cream after."

You were glued to your phone, watching the game while waiting for Kise. You had been so focused on Aomine and Kise dogfight that you almost forgot you needed to study the game later.

You nearly dropped your phone when someone suddenly dragged you into the locker room.

"What the—Daiki!" You managed to catch your phone just in time.

Aomine shut the door and locked it. He was already changed into his Touo warm-ups, his hair damp, and his duffel bag hanging off his right shoulder. He tossed it somewhere—God knows where.

"What the hell is your problem?" you demanded.

You hadn’t spoken to Daiki in a long time, not since Teiko High. You never planned on transferring schools, but after the team disbanded, you were left alone. Daiki had been your "Kise" back then, but after all the victories, he seemed to lose his passion for basketball. He practically ghosted you before moving to Touo. Things hadn’t been the same without them in Teiko. Your parents had wanted to send you to Rakuzen, but it was too far from Tokyo. You ended up at Kaijo, which wasn’t terrible—at least Kise was there.

Daiki didn’t say anything. He just stared at you. You couldn’t meet his gaze for long. Up close, he looked so different. Taller. Leaner. He used to smile constantly during junior high, so carefree, back when he still loved basketball. But now, all you could see was that scowl, and bored expression. It frustrated you, seeing him hate something he once loved so deeply. You just wanted to wipe that expression off his face.

"What? Are we going to just stare at each other all day?" You crossed your arms, watching as his eyes flickered on your breast. Classic Daiki. How Satsuki ever put up with him for all these years was beyond you.

"Are you and Kise dating?" he asked, completely out of the blue.

You blinked, stunned. You hadn’t seen or spoken to Daiki in years, and the first thing he asks is whether you and Kise are dating?

"Why?" you asked, voice cool but guarded. You didn't confirm or deny it, watching him step closer. It was the kind of question that made no sense, but you couldn’t help but feel irritated. You took a step back, but his long strides quickly closed the distance, cornering you against the wall.

"Answer the fucking question," he said, his voice low, demanding

"Wow! Nice to see you, Daiki! You left for Touo without a word—no text, no explanation! And now you're asking me if Kise and I are dating?"

The words stung, but it was the tears burning at the back of your eyes that you struggled to keep in check. You locked eyes with him, defiant, challenging him to say something.

Daiki didn't back down, his gaze sharp, studying you as if searching for some hidden truth.

"I beat him today. And I'll beat him every chance I get until he gives up basketball."

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing.

"I don't understand," you said, your voice shaky but determined. "You were gone... now you're here, and you want to beat Kise. What does any of this have to do with me?"

You didn’t get a chance to finish your sentence. Without warning, Daiki closed the distance between you by kissing you, his kiss aggressive and overwhelming. You tried to push him away, but he was relentless—his grip too firm, his presence too intense.

He broke off from the kiss, and without thinking, your hands shot up, landing across his face in a slap. The impact echoed in the small space, but Daiki didn’t even flinch. He didn’t budge. His expression remained unreadable, but something flickered in his eyes.

You weren’t sure why you slapped him. Maybe it was the rush of emotions—anger, hurt, confusion, that had been building up for so long. Maybe it was the shock of seeing him again, after everything.

"I'm sorry," Daiki sighed, his voice heavy with something like regret. But you couldn’t tell if it was genuine or just him trying to smooth things over.

You sucked in a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. But the flood of emotions, the pain, the unanswered questions, the years of silence—rushed at you all at once. The years you’d spent thinking about him, wondering why he left, why he didn’t even say goodbye, felt like they were crashing over you in that moment.

You stood at 5'6", but Daiki’s towering presence only seemed to make you feel smaller. You pushed against him, the force of it useless. He didn’t move. He didn’t even flinch.

"You..." Another push, but he barely flinched. "fucking..." You pushed again, but it felt useless. "asshole." The words were sharp, a mix of anger and hurt, your breath coming in quick bursts.

Before you could react, Daiki grabbed your arm and pulled you into an embrace. His grip was firm yet somehow comforting, as if he was trying to hold you together even when you were falling apart.

"I'm sorry..."

His words hung in the air, and, despite the anger still boiling inside you, a warmth began to seep into your chest. His embrace felt different now, heavier in a way that made you ache. You missed him—missed the way things used to be—before everything felt so off. When he left without a word, it hurt more than he'd probably ever understand. Basketball wasn't the same anymore, but he didn’t even bother to say goodbye. Just a simple text would’ve been enough, but he didn’t even offer that.

"I hate you!" The words came out between ragged breaths, a release of everything you had been holding in.

Daiki’s hands found your shoulders, his touch grounding, even if it felt like it might break you.

"I know, baby. What can I do to make it up to you?" His voice was low, almost pleading, and then he pulled you in, brushing his lips softly against your forehead. The touch was tender, a stark contrast to the storm that still raged inside you.

"Remind me to beat the crap out of Kise for kissing you."

Your lips curled into a smirk. So, he had been watching you and Kise earlier, piecing together his own conclusion that you two were dating. You shuddered at the thought. What you and Kise shared was strictly platonic—always had been. Even back in Teiko. Kise had always been like that, affectionate and carefree, but never crossing the line. It was just the way he was, even with Satsuki around. Now, here in Kaijo, it was no different. He was just comfortable around you, a female who didn’t overthink every little gesture or word.

"You idiot, we're not dating. That's what you get for ghosting us." You playfully hit his arm, a smirk tugging at your lips.

Daiki scratched the back of his head, his awkwardness evident as he tried to brush it off.

"It seems so, the way he said it earlier," he muttered, still processing what Kise had implied.

Confusion flickered across your face for a moment before a mischievous grin spread across it.

"You're jealous, aren't you?" You teased, your voice laced with amusement.

Daiki groaned, remembering Kise's words earlier. He couldn't help but feel a growing irritation at the thought of Kise’s smug expression. A little voice in his head reminded him to hit his former teammate when they crossed paths again.

"What's got you worked up today, Aominecchi?" Kise asked

He hadn’t planned to be so invested in this game, but the way Kise’s presence kept pulling his attention toward the Kaijo bench stirred something deep within him—a mix of irritation and something else he wasn’t ready to confront.

"Woke up wanting to eat you alive," he answered, his annoyance dripping through his words.

Kise just laughed, already sensing the irritation bubbling inside his former teammate. He knew exactly what buttons to press to rile Daiki up.

"I see, good luck Aominecchi. Just like you, I’m inspired to beat Touo today," Kise said, intentionally glancing toward the Kaijo bench where you were watching the game with focused intensity. His eyes glinted with mischief, adding more fuel to the fire.

Daiki’s jaw clenched as he heard Kise's words. "I promised someone I’d win today so I can ask her out."

"Kise is dating someone, not me, of course."

Aomine let out a sigh of relief. He had been worried, thought maybe he was too late to even consider his own chances. Kise had really gotten to him this time.

As for you, seeing Daiki again felt like a breath of fresh air. Sure, it hadn’t started off smoothly, but there was something about seeing him on the court again, seeing him actually care instead of boredom or little to no effort playing that you hadn’t seen in years. It was like a missing puzzle piece falling back into place.

"So, that means I can take you out?"

You snapped out of your trance, surprised by the sudden question.

"What?"

"If you and Kise aren’t dating, then I can take you out?" His voice was laced with hope, yet you could hear the nerves creeping in. Daiki’s usual confident air was replaced with something almost vulnerable, as if he was unsure whether to expect rejection or acceptance.

You tilted your head, pretending to consider the offer. In truth, you already knew your answer, but teasing him a little felt good. Daiki’s unease was endearing.

"Okay, only if you beat Seirin."

Daiki exhaled sharply, a mixture of relief and tension flooding through him. He was confident in his team, sure of his abilities, but something about Seirin—especially that Taiga Kagami—had him on edge. He wasn’t one to back down from a challenge, but you could tell he was still stewing over the possibility of facing someone like Kagami.

"Okay, but can we have some ice cream after this?" Daiki’s tone softened a little as he tried to make the best of the situation, though you could tell he was still thinking about the game ahead. "Satsuki wants to see you."

Your face lit up at the mention of Satsuki. It had been too long since you'd seen her face-to-face; the last time was before the season started. Texts and calls just weren't the same.

"Can we bring Kise along? We were supposed to have ice cream too," you suggested, a teasing smile playing at the corners of your lips.

The moment you said Kise’s name, Daiki’s expression immediately darkened. His jaw clenched, and his frown deepened. You couldn’t help but laugh internally at how obvious it was.

"Come on, Daiki. It’s just Kise. He’ll be delighted to see Satsuki, too," you pleaded, leaning in just slightly to soften the blow.

Daiki sighed in surrender, the fight leaving his shoulders as he rolled his eyes. Despite his grumbling, you knew he’d go along with it. He always did when it came to you.

[yamumsyadadd]

the forgotten girl (4)

posted this originally on my old account. will be posting twice weekly :)

The obnoxious sound of my alarm had awoken me from a very deep slumber. The past few weeks had been a lot. It was getting closer to Christmas, meaning closer to actually playing. It was a lot. I didn’t have plans for Christmas, not that I usually had anyway. Christmas was Emily’s holiday, she loved it. The house would be decorated. Every where you’d look, the bedrooms, the bathrooms, couches, everything. 

Today would be my first time training with the team. I’d be training with the injured players but today, today was the big league. I’d have to go into the locker room, wear the Barca uniform and actually interact with everyone. It was going to be hard. 

I thought that by arriving an hour early, I’d have time to sit in the silence of the locker room, take it all in and what not. But that would not be the case. Alexia was there, of course, always had to be the first person to things. But I didn’t expect Keira or Claudia to be there. Keira was always late. No matter what and from what I learnt over the past few weeks, Claudia was the same. Yet here they were, all smiling at me as I walked in. 

“Uh hi. Sorry, I didn’t expect anyone to be here so early.” 

“We” Keira pointed to her and Claudia, “came here early for you. Alexia is always this early.” 

“Congratulations!” Claudia bounded towards me, barely enough time for me to react before her arms wrapped around me tightly. 

“Thanks Claud. And Kei, you too.” 

Alexia just watched on. Wishing she wasn’t so ridged. Despite everything that had happened to you, Alexia wished she could be more like you. You were still vibrant, calming and carefree. As carefree as someone who went through what you did, could be. 

As the end of the week neared, everyone was talking about there holiday plans, I stayed completely silent. Listening to what everyone was doing. I was prepared to make up a lie if I was asked, but thankfully I wasn’t. When Alexia stopped me in the car park I knew what was coming. 

“Do you want to join my family for Christmas? It’s just mum and alba this year?” 

“No that’s okay. I don’t do Christmas. Thanks for the invite though!” Despite the rejection, Alexia sent me her mums address. I wasn’t planning on going. Really I wasn’t. Yet here I was, standing at Eli’s front door, presents in hand. Before I could even knock, the door swung open. 

“Milly! What are you doing here!” Alba screamed, pulling me in for a hug. 

“Alexia invited me. I hope that’s okay.” 

“Amelia Higgins! Look at you! You get more beautiful Every time I see you. Come here, give me a hug.” Eli’s loving voice was something that I missed. The warmth in her hugs, the way she would mother me like I was her own. 

“I bought gifts.” Shoving the bags into Albas arms and watching her skip away like a 12 year old. 

“I’m glad you came.” Ale whispered in my ear as she hugged me. 

Christmas was my least favourite. For many reasons. Growing up in the system, the only presents I got were from charity. Not to say they were bad or anything but all the kids at school got phones and iPads and whatever they wanted. I did not. Another reason why I hated it, I didn’t have a family. Especially not now. Emily’s family was big, her older sister, brother and in laws, as well as nieces and nephews. It was loud, fun, full of love. It was Emily’s holiday. 

This was different though. It didn’t feel like Christmas. It felt like before emily. Whenever I’d get a break, I’d come visit Alexia in Barcelona. Even if it was just for a night. The ability to be able to hide away in her mums living room was a feeling I’d missed. There wasn’t any pressure to be the best here, showing up and being present was simply enough. 

Eli was hurt when she found out I had been living in Barcelona for 3 years and hadn’t come to see her. She’d manage to track down my address from Olga and showed up one night with paella. 

“Eli? What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing mija.” 

“I-I don’t know what you mean?” 

“3 years Amelia! You have lived here for 3 years and not once did you ever message me or come over. It’s been over 3 years since I even spoke to you last! You vanished and stressed everyone out. Why did you do that! To me? To Alexia?” 

“I’m sorry” I said quietly. I was sorry. “I couldn’t be the person everyone wanted me to be. I needed to get out of there. I didn’t want to grieve with the whole world watching and I didn’t want to destroy everyone as I destroyed myself, so I did what I thought was best.” 

“Mija, you’re an idiota. You could’ve come to me. To my home. Lived with me. I would’ve kept you hidden. Safe. Away from it all. It doesn’t matter. I am here now and I have food for you. You’re too skinny so please, wash your hands and come eat.” 

Whatever Eli wanted, she got. 

A few days after Christmas, training started again. We had 2 full days of training and then a week off. Barcelona was an intense team with an intense schedule, it made sense that they would train so hard, they were the best. 

The transfer window opened, the plan was to not announce my signing until the very last minute. Meaning that teams wouldn’t bombard myself or my manager with questions and contracts. Eloise, my manager, had set me up with a social media manager, someone who would recreate my social media’s and post on behaviour of me. This way I wouldn’t get overwhelmed or have to deal with the comments. I could stick to my anonymous instagram that only had 15 followers. I very much preferred it this way. 

The whole transfer window was quiet, no rumours of my return. It put my mind at ease, no would could or would expect this. I, however, did not expect the amount of followers, messages or people talking about me. 

Amelia Scott-Higgins has signed with FC Barcelona until 2026. 

FC Barcelonas new signing: what you need to know. 

Where has Amelia Scott-Higgins been hiding for the last 3.5 years? 

It was a lot. I miss the time when I was off the grid and hiding. 

[be4chywritez]

and they were roommates | matt rempe

matt rempe x fem!reader

Matt has had the biggest crush on you since he was 12 now you guys are roommates…

request: Can I request prompt 11 with Matt Rempe plz? 🥺

prompt: "It sounds like you’re flirting with me.” “I've been trying for years."

beachy’s masterlist🐚

Matthew Rempe has had the biggest crush on you since the summer you moved in right next door. You were both 12, and he vividly remembered the day your mother called out to you to introduce yourself.

You stomped down the porch, clearly annoyed, as your mother smiled softly at the Rempe family. “Y/n, these are the Rempes. They’re our new neighbors,” she said, gripping your shoulder in a way that clearly said, “behave.”

You made a face at your mom before turning to the Rempes and giving them a sour smile. “Hi,” you grit out, clearly not thrilled to be there. Matt watched you sit there fiddling with the strings of your shorts while his sisters, Steph and Alley, quickly fell into deep conversation with you. He noticed how your eyes twinkled when you talked about your hometown.

When Alley asked why you moved to Calgary, you scowled. “My parents got divorced, and I got stuck with my mom.”

That summer marked the beginning of a deep-seated crush that Matt had kept to himself for years. The Rempes and your mom became quite close, and you were at every barbecue and birthday party. He remembered the day he saw you in the hallways at school, and how you hated when snow melted through your Uggs, leading him to offer you piggyback rides every snow day.

And he remembered the day you got a boyfriend.

Alley’s squeals made him jump, and he raced upstairs, grabbing his hockey stick. When he burst through the door, you, Alley, and Steph were sitting on Alley’s bed.

“Oh my GOD, MATT, get out,” Alley said, making a face at him.

“Wait, I didn’t know y/n was here,” he said, leaning up against Alley’s desk but not seeing the shoebox sitting there. When he leaned back, he fell, the girls’ laughter filling the room.

Sitting up, Matt rubbed the back of his head, trying to play it cool. “So, what are you guys talking about?”

Steph and Alley exchanged a knowing look. They were well aware of Matt’s big fat crush on you. Steph smirked and said, “Y/n has a boyfriend.”

Matt felt a pang of jealousy but tried to hide it. “Oh yeah? Who’s the lucky guy?”

You looked down, a slight blush creeping up your cheeks. “Just Alex Marshall. He’s on the hockey team, actually.”

Later that week, Matt found out more about your boyfriend. The guy was on the hockey team, and word around the locker room was that he was just using you for your body. Matt’s protective instincts kicked in, and he decided to confront the guy after practice.

He cornered Alex in the locker room, his expression deadly serious. “I know what you’re doing with y/n. If you don’t back off and treat her with respect, you’ll regret it.” His hands gripped the neck of his jersey, and maybe it was because Matt was 6’3” as a freshman, but everyone in the whole school knew to steer clear of him.

Alex paled, stammering an apology before quickly gathering his things and leaving. Matt hoped that would be the end of it.

The next day, you were hanging out with Alley and Steph again, looking upset. Matt overheard your conversation as he walked by.

“He admitted he was using me,” you said, your voice breaking. “I can’t believe I fell for it.”

Alley wrapped an arm around you, offering comfort. “He’s a jerk, y/n. You’re better off without him.”

Steph nodded in agreement. “Exactly. You deserve someone who actually cares about you.”

Matt couldn’t stay silent any longer. He walked into the room, his heart aching for you. “Y/n, I’m really sorry. You deserve so much better.”

You looked up, surprised to see him there. “Thanks, Matt. I just… I feel so stupid.”

“You’re not stupid,” he said firmly. “And if you ever need someone to talk to or just hang out with, I’m here.”

Your eyes softened, a small smile forming on your lips. “Thanks, Matt. That means a lot.”

Both Alley and Steph stifled laughs.

The first time Matt realized he was in love with you…

Now, years later, you’re sitting in your cozy New York apartment, the afternoon sun filtering through the windows. You were sprawled on the couch, lazily flipping through a magazine while waiting for Matt to arrive. He had moved to New York two years after you, and you joked about being roommates. When your current roommate moved out, it seemed like fate.

You heard the door unlock, and Matt stood there, a wide grin on his face, holding a toolbox in one hand and a bag of takeout in the other.

he ducked the doorframe stepping inside. “I brought you Chinese.”

You laughed, taking the bag from him. “Perfect timing. I’m starving.”

As you set the table, you couldn’t help but admire how effortlessly handsome Matt looked, even in casual clothes. He had been your best friend for years, but lately, you’d started to notice him in a different light.

“So, what’s on the agenda today?” Matt asked, setting the toolbox down and joining you at the table.

“Just some minor fixes,” you said, handing him a plate. “And maybe some furniture rearranging. Nothing too crazy.”

“Sounds like a plan,” he replied, taking a bite of his food. “But first, let’s eat. Can’t work on an empty stomach.”

You both chatted and laughed as you ate, the conversation flowing easily. It was one of the things you loved most about your friendship with Matt—how natural everything felt.

After finishing the meal and cleaning up, you got to work. Matt tackled the more technical fixes while you handled the lighter tasks. At one point, you found yourself standing on a stool, trying to reach a high shelf, when you lost your balance.

Matt was by your side in an instant, his strong hands steadying you. “Careful there,” he said, his voice filled with concern.

You smiled down at him, your heart fluttering at the closeness. “Thanks, Matt.”

“No problem,” he replied, his eyes locking with yours for a moment longer than necessary.

You felt a blush creep up your cheeks and quickly changed the subject. “So, how’s everything going with the team?”

He launched into a story about his latest game, and you listened intently, enjoying the sound of his voice. But you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something more between you, something intimate.

Later, as the sun began to set and you both took a break on the couch, you turned to Matt. “You know, those shelves look beautiful.” you say admiring the freshly painted shelves.

He chuckled, leaning back and stretching his arms. “That’s not the only thing beautiful here.”

“If I didn’t know any better Matt, it almost sounds like you’re flirting with me,” you teased.

Matt looked at you, his expression suddenly serious.

You felt your heart skip a beat, but before you could respond, he added softly, “I’ve been trying for years.”

You blinked, stunned by his admission. “What?”

Matt reached out, taking your hand in his. “I’ve been trying to tell you how I feel for years, but I guess I’ve never been good at it.”

Your heart swelled with love as you realized the depth of his feelings. “Matt, I…”

He squeezed your hand gently. “You don’t have to say anything. I just needed you to know.”

You took a deep breath, feeling a rush of courage. “Matt, I’ve been feeling the same way. I just didn’t know how to tell you.”

A slow smile spread across his face as he leaned in closer. “So, what do we do now?”

You smiled back, your heart pounding. “I think we start by making up for lost time.”

With that, he closed the distance between you, leaning down, his lips meeting yours in a tender, long-awaited kiss. The world seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you, finally together after all those years.

His hands rested on your lower back your hands come up to rest on his chest, a contented smile on your lips. “I’ve been waiting for this.”

“Me too,” he whispered, his eyes shining with happiness. “Me too.”

[dirtyvulture]

Alpha!Natasha Romanoff x Omega!Fem!Reader

18+ only, read at your own risk

Requested by anon: Jealous Alpha Nat x Clueless Omega Reader 

Semi-public sex, claiming/knotting/breeding. Please, and thanks to you, God of Lust. 

AN: I accidentally made Nat beefy even though you didn’t ask for it. 🥺 I hope you don’t mind, anon! Shoutout to @mostlymarvelsstuff for helping brainstorm this one.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to spot you?” Natasha asks for what you feel is the thousandth time.

“Yes, I’ll be fine. I’ll only be using the ten-pound weights anyway,” you respond, a little annoyed at how oveprotective she can be sometimes. 

“Well, I’ll be right over here if you need me.” Natasha parts with a kiss on your forehead before going over to her favorite exercise, the bench press. You weren’t much of a fan yourself, so you grab a pair of dumbbells and stand in front of the mirror. 

You hear the gym door open as you’re in the middle of your set of curls, but you don’t think much of it. You can see Natasha in the reflection of the mirror, balancing a barbell with two times your weight on it and you pause to admire the impressive flexing of her arms as she brings down the bar to bounce off her chest.

“Hey, Y/N.”

You snap out of your ogling to find Sam Wilson standing behind you with a wide grin on his face.

“Huh? Oh, hi, Sam.”

“Need some help with your workout?” he asks, boldly putting his hand on your shoulder and steering you toward an empty bench. 

“Um, not really.”

“Come on, I can show you some new moves. It’ll really diversify your workout.” He sounds so earnest, you don’t want to deny him the opportunity. Plus, it’s just Sam and he’s completely harmless, and you’re where Natasha can see you if anything goes south.

“Okay fine,” you relent, watching as he adjusts the bench so you can sit up and rest your back on it. 

“Have you done shoulder presses before?” Sam asks as you take a seat. He stands behind you. 

“Uh, these?” You bend your arms and press them up.

“Yeah! Just add some weight to it.” Sam hands you your dumbbells. 

You start your first set, not struggling too much with the weight. Sam holds his hands under your triceps, following your range of motion in case you can’t complete a rep. 

After you finish your first set of 12, you go into your second set, although your arms are already tired. Sam’s hands brush the undersides of your triceps more than once.

“Come on, Y/N. You got this. Push, push, push.”

“Phew,” you pant, dropping your dumbbells to the floor and shaking the ache out in your arms.

“Those are too easy,” Sam says, going over to the rack and picking up a pair of 15 pound dumbbells. 

“Oh no, I stick to the tens,” you protest.

“You got this. I won’t let you drop them on your head. Besides, Romanoff would kill me if that happened.”

“Or, I can still kill you before that happens,” someone growls from behind you both.

“Nat?” You didn’t even notice her come over. The collar of her low-cut shirt is soaked in sweat and the veins in her arms look like they’re straining to escape. 

“What the hell are you doing, Wilson? She didn’t want a spot,” Natasha says in a low voice that makes you tingle.

“Oh, I wasn’t spotting her, I was just showing her some new exercises,” Sam says, suddenly backing away from you on the bench.

“And you don’t think I can do that?”

“Well, uh, no...” Sam stutters. “I know you’re more than capable--”

“I’ll take it from here,” Natasha interrupts.

“Sure. I’ll...I’ll see you two around.” Sam scampers away. 

“Come on, Y/N,” Natasha says, hooking her arm under yours and pulling you up.

“Oh, are you done with your workout?” It wasn’t unusual for your mate to spend upwards of two hours in the gym.

“This one,” she says, whisking you out of the gym. 

“Nat, are you okay?” you ask as she drags you into the locker room. You look down at her black shorts and notice the tent forming at the center. “Oh.”

“It seems someone forgot who their alpha is,” Natasha growls, pushing you against the lockers and looming over you. 

“Nat, someone can walk in--” you squeak as she removes your shorts, easily lifting you with her strong arms and pressing your back against the lockers. 

“Good. So they can run out and tell everyone who’s alpha you belong to.”

“Fuck.” Her deepened voice and aggressive tone has you soaking your panties.

“Who’s your alpha?” Natasha asks, now holding you up entirely with one arm so she can pull her shorts down. Her cock is dripping with pre-cum, fully erect, the veins on it pulsing. You clench around nothing, aching to have her sheathed inside of you.

“You’re my alpha,” you respond, whining as she teases your folds with the dark tip of her cock. 

“No one else’s?” she asks, almost as if she’s a little insecure that you’d leave her for someone.

“Just yours. All yours,” you insist. “Please, Nat.”

“Good.” Her arms flex as she steadies you before lowering you on her cock. You moan as she stretches you out, clawing onto her biceps and shoulders in pleasure. 

“Harder, Nat,” you whimper, unable to make a sound as her thighs slap louder against yours, bouncing you on her dick. 

“You are my omega,” she growls, burying her face against your neck and tracing her tongue teasingly along the mating mark she left there months ago, when she first claimed you as hers. She bore a similar one on her collarbone, in the perfect outline of your teeth, a mark she wore proudly. “Mine and only mine.”

“Yours,” you pant, clinging onto her. “Claim me again, Nat. Knot me and make me yours.”

You feel her chest vibrate as she moans at your words and you swear you can feel her cock throb harder inside of you. Natasha mumbles something in Russian, a language you never bothered to learn but loved to hear when she was so turned on she couldn’t think in English. Her thrusts come harder and you swear you’ll be bruised tomorrow. But you don’t care, tearing at her shirt so you can feel her sweaty skin against yours and take in her scent.

“Fuck, Y/N,” Natasha moans, starting to lose her rhythm. You clench harder around her, desperate to feel her hot cum spill into you. You can’t wait to carry her pups and start a family with her one day. “Do you...Do you want my knot?” she asks, knowing that if you take it, the two of you won’t be able to disconnect very easily. In fact, she’ll probably have to carry you out to your room, and who knows how many eyes will fall on you two on your way there.

“Yes, yes, please. I don’t care who sees us,” you reassure, digging your nails harder into her biceps. “Fill me with your pups, Nat.”

That does it for her, and with a final hard thrust, her knot slips into you without difficulty and you feel her cum gush into you. You sigh in satisfaction, dropping your head against her chest and pulling aside her shirt collar to expose her mating mark. You bite into it and Natasha’s body goes rigid with a moan, and she finishes cumming with a few hard pulses. 

She wraps her arms around you, balancing you against her chest, as she reaches for some towels to throw over your back. You hook your legs around her waist and she pulls up her shorts as high as she can, carrying you out of the locker room, with her cock still inside of you. 

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

AN: These two. 😅 Absolutely insatiable.

Please like, reblog, and comment! Follow for more content. 🥰

[hoe4hotchner]

Chapter 12 - Regionals

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x figure skater (fem)!Reader

Summary: The story follows you a figure skater training for nationals and Aaron Hotchner as your lives intertwine during an investigation into the abductions of young athletic women, including the your close friend, Leah. As the BAU delves deeper into the case, you find yourself captivated by Hotch’s quiet strength and protective presence. When Leah’s body is tragically discovered at the rink, the tension escalates, surrounding you in an atmosphere of fear and uncertainty.

Word count: 8k

Warnings: Anxiety, gunshots, panic, chaos, blood, trauma.

A/N: I'm gonna be honest, I don't know if any of the jump/spin combinations in this chapter is actually possible, I just thought they sounded cool together.

Also, I imagined the song reader performs to is Valentine - Måneskin.

Masterlist

The energy bouncing through the arena at regionals was unlike anything you’d ever experienced before. The rink buzzed with activity—skaters gliding across the ice, warming up and loosening their limbs with different kicking and swinging motions, coaches muttering last-minute advice, and the hum of the crowd bleeding through the arena walls. The atmosphere was suffocating yet exhilarating. The anticipation and pressure that came with the excitement settled like a weight on your chest.

You were seated on a bench in one of the many locker rooms across the backstage area, staring down at your skates. The laces mocked you with their stubbornness. They weren’t tight enough. No, too tight. You loosened them, pulling the laces free—considering the option of re-lacing your skates completely with a new pair from your bag—only to start over again. Your hands trembled slightly, the nerves making even this simple task feel massive.

Tug. Cross. Loop. Pull.

Each motion was meticulous and deliberate. You knew how to do it, yet failed to do it correctly.

Too loose. They’ll slip.

You untied and tied them again.

Too tight. I won’t be able to feel my feet.

Frustration built in your chest. You sighed, almost letting out a loud groan, and sat back for a moment to collect yourself. You wiped your palms in your blade towel, the chill of the rink failing to reach you as you combat the heat your nerves sparked through every nerve and bone.

The door creaked open slightly, and you glanced up to see Hotch. He lingered in the doorway, his hands tucked into the pockets of his dark jacket. His presence was grounding in a way—working in a matter of seconds—the steadiness in his eyes cutting through the storm brewing inside your head.

“Everything okay?” he asked, his voice soft but firm. In directly questioning why you hadn't met him outside yet. He had already debriefed the team, only waiting for you.

You nodded quickly, too quickly, and gestured vaguely to your skates. “Just… trying to get these right.”

He stepped further inside, his gaze falling to your hands as they hesitated over the laces once more. He didn't mention it, but he noticed how much they shook. Hotch couldn't tell whether it was the competition or the potential of Collins showing up that was the biggest cause of your trembling.

“Take a deep breath,” he said, crouching slightly in front of you to meet your eye level. “You’ve done this a thousand times before.”

“I know,” you murmured, your voice tight. “But this isn’t like practice. Everyone’s watching. The judges are watching. And if I screw this up…”

“You won’t,” Hotch interrupted, his tone leaving no room for argument. He didn't want you to doubt yourself. He knew you could do it, and so should you. “You’ve trained for this. No one is more prepared than you are.”

You wanted to believe him. You really did. But the knot in your stomach tightened, and your hands returned to the laces. Hotch straightened, giving you the space to wrestle with your nerves, though his presence didn’t waver.

Once again, you tugged at the laces, pulling them tight, only for frustration to bubble up inside you as they didn’t feel quite right. With a sharp huff, you yanked at the knot, untying them for what felt like the hundredth time. The movement was harsh, almost as if you were taking out all your pent-up emotions on the poor laces—if you'd been a little rougher they might've actually snapped.

Hotch had been watching in silence. “Do you want some help?” he asked, his voice calm, trying not to undermine your ability to lace your own skates, but somewhat knowing that you could sit in here all night trying to fix your laces, although they weren't the root of your problem.

You blinked, startled, your hands frozen mid-pull. “I—” You started to refuse, your pride prickling, but then you remembered how steady his hands were in every situation. You exhaled sharply and gave a small nod, handing the laces over.

“I've seen how you tied them before,” he said, getting down on one knee to get closer. “Let me try.”

You watched as his fingers threaded the laces.

Cross, under, pull, remove from hook, and tie 360° around the same hook, repeat.

His movements were deliberate but not hurried, trying to mimic the way he had seen you tie them before. His focus was entirely on the task, brows furrowed slightly in concentration. He pulled the laces snug, double-knotting them once he reached the last hook, almost as if he’d been doing this forever.

When he finished, he looked up at you, still crouched before you. “How is this?” he asked softly, his eyes searching yours for an answer.

You stared at him, your breath catching in your throat. The laces were tied perfectly—secure but not too tight, exactly the way you liked them. But it wasn’t just that. It was the way he looked at you, so patient, so... stable, it made something inside you shift.

Your heart felt like it had stopped and restarted all at once. You couldn’t stop the look that crossed your face—adoration, pure and vulnerable—before you snapped yourself out of it.

“They’re good,” you said quickly, clearing your throat as you forced yourself to look away. Your voice came out steadier than you felt, but the warmth creeping up your cheeks betrayed you.

Hotch gave a small nod, his lips twitching into the faintest hint of a smile before he straightened up and stood back up.

None of you managed to speak another word as the muffled sound of the announcer’s voice echoed through the hallways, signaling the start of the competition. Your heart skipped a beat. It was happening.

Hotch’s voice broke through your thoughts. “You ready?”

You hesitated before nodding. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

He gave you a small smile and a nod. “Good. Now go show them what you're made of.”

With a deep breath, you pushed yourself to your feet, the sound of your guards thumping slightly against the floor in the otherwise silent locker room. Your nerves were still there, clawing at the edges of your determination, but you forced yourself to focus. You had to.

The competition was waiting. And so was your moment to prove yourself.

The tension in the arena was noticeable as you sat in the skaters’ section, hands clenched into fists in your lap. The murmur of the audience filled the space as skater after skater took their turn on the ice. Each one seemed impossibly flawless, their jumps precise, their artistry captivating. You couldn’t help but compare yourself to every single one of them, the doubt creeping in despite Hotch’s earlier reassurances.

But none of them intimidated you quite like Natalia Ivanova.

You’d known Natalia for years, watched several of her competition tapes, and competed against her a couple of times. She was a powerhouse on the ice, her technical skills matched only by her undeniable flair for performance. Even before she stepped onto the rink, you could hear whispers of her name ripple through the crowd, even a few whispers amongst the other skaters.

When the announcer called her, Natalia glided onto the ice like she owned it, her movements fluid and graceful. She beamed confidence, staring the judges down as she paused in the center of the rink to strike her opening pose. Her program was set to a dramatic orchestral piece, the kind of music that made you feel like you were watching something historic in the making.

You sat up straighter, studying her movements, your heart hammering away in your chest. You hated to admit it, but watching her was mesmerizing. Every movement was meticulously planned, and every glide was seamless. The crowd was captivated oohing and ahhing at every single element she performed.

Then came the jumps. She nailed the first two, a triple loop and a triple lutz, both of which looked effortless. But when she approached the quad, your breath hitched.

You had been right, she too had been working on one.

She skated backward, her edges strong, and launched into the air with power. For a moment, it seemed perfect—her rotation tight, her form pristine. But as she came down, her landing faltered. Her skate slipped, and she crashed onto the ice, the sound of her fall echoing through the silent arena as her body slid a few meters across the ice.

Gasps rippled through the crowd. Natalia scrambled to her feet quickly, trying to recover, but the damage was done. A fall on a quad was a significant deduction, and everyone knew it. You either did it and succeeded—or you failed.

You exhaled a shaky breath, your nerves flaring anew. Natalia’s mistake was an opportunity for you—if you could manage to land your own attempt at a quad, it could set you apart, it could differentiate you from the rest. But the pressure to deliver felt suffocating.

You had to land it.

Natalia finished her routine with remarkable poise—despite her mistake, you were sure she was beating herself up about it—her expression betrayed no emotion as she struck her final pose. The applause was generous but lacked the usual fervor. She skated off the ice with her chin held high, though you could see the tension in her shoulders as she passed by. Her coach followed closely behind, already reprimanding her for the quad.

Your name was called next.

You rose from your seat and moved towards the open gate onto the ice. As you reached the entrance, you pulled your guards off, taking one last steadying breath before placing them on the boards.

Hotch was waiting nearby, his eyes locked on yours. “You’ve got this,” he mouthed as your eyes locked.

You nodded, swallowing hard as you stepped onto the ice. The cold air hit your face, a sharp reminder of where you were and what was at stake.

The hush that fell over the arena as the lights dimmed was deafening. You skated to the middle of the ice, each push of your blades a deliberate movement. The familiar surface beneath you felt a little extra slippery today.

You took a deep breath as you lowered yourself into your starting pose, one knee bent with your arms outstretched, fingers trembling slightly. Your heart pounded, but you locked eyes with the ice in front of you, blocking out the crowd, the judges, and even Natalia’s earlier performance.

When the spotlight clicked on, bathing you in its white glow, a collective gasp echoed through the audience. The opening notes of your soundtrack poured through the speakers and you felt the lyrics seep into your bones. The tension in your chest eased just slightly.

This was your story to tell now.

The first notes guided you as you pushed off into smooth, flowing backward crossovers, your skates slicing cleanly through the ice and your skirt flowing with the motion. The rhythm of the music matched the beat of your heart. Your movements were fluid, your arms extending in elegant arcs as the lyrics spilled out across the arena.

You told a story through your program—the music was your script, and every step, every spin, was an expression of the raw emotion the past couple of months had left you with. The way you twisted into a tight axel, the way your arms reached toward the sky during a spiral sequence—it all built a connection between you and the audience.

The tension in the music grew, and you shifted into the program’s first big combination: a triple lutz and a double toe loop. You launched into the air, your body twisting, and when you landed, the blades of your skates felt secure beneath you. The applause surged for a brief moment before fading back into breathless anticipation.

Each element led seamlessly to the next. A series of intricate footwork had you carving sharp edges and patterns into the ice, your body moving in time with the heavy drumbeats. Your spins were a blur of motion, your costume catching the light as you transitioned from forward to backward skating with grace.

And then came the finale.

The music swelled, its intensity rising, and you pushed yourself to the far edge of the rink. You took a deep breath, your heart pounding as you prepared for the salchow.

It was a gamble, you'd only been working on it for a couple of weeks—the jump that could make or break your performance.

You picked up speed, your blades cutting deep into the ice as you set up for the takeoff. Your arms were tight, your focus razor-sharp. As the beat dropped in the music, you launched yourself into the air.

Time seemed to slow.

The rotation was tight, your arms tucked in as your body spun in perfect alignment. For a split second, everything felt right. But as you came down, your left skate caught the ice at an awkward angle.

You wobbled.

Your arms flailed slightly, and your right toepick grazed the ice to stabilize yourself. The landing wasn’t clean, and you knew it, knew points would be deducted despite a completed element.

The applause was still loud, but you could feel the weight of the judges’ pens, scribbling notes about the deduction for the shaky landing. Even so, you had landed it—a quad. That alone was a triumph that only a few skaters managed to during their careers, especially in women's skating.

The music softened, its final notes drifting into silence as you glided to the center of the rink and struck your ending pose. Your chest heaved as you stood there, frozen in place, every muscle in your body trembling from exertion and adrenaline.

The lights of the arena turned back on, bathing the rink in brightness. The crowd erupted into cheers, and you heard your name being called from different corners of the arena.

Your blood ran cold, every nerve in your body freezing in place. The rush of adrenaline and pride from your performance drained from you in an instant, replaced by a suffocating dread that wrapped itself around your chest. Your heart pounded, but it felt sluggish, each beat echoing in your ears as you spotted him.

Collins.

He stood in the stands, his presence impossible to miss despite the sea of people still clapping and cheering around him. His smirk was sharp and sinister, a cruel twist of satisfaction that sent a chill down your spine. His eyes locked onto yours, and the weight of his gaze was unbearable, pinning you in place like prey under the watchful eye of a predator.

Your breath hitched, caught somewhere between a gasp and a choke. The arena, still alive with sound and light, seemed to fade away. All you could see was him, his every move magnified. His hand dipped into his jacket pocket—slow, deliberate, and calculated. The motion sent every alarm in your body blaring, but you couldn’t move. Time slowed, the world around you warping as panic flooded your veins. What did he have in there?

Move. Do something. Scream. Run.

But your legs wouldn’t listen.

"Hotch!"

The scream tore out of you, it was desperate, carrying through the arena like a crack of thunder. It startled even you, your voice trembling with the kind of fear that could only come from the knowledge of what Collins was capable of.

Your cry snapped Hotch into action. From the corner of your eye, you saw him bolt from his spot, his sharp eyes zeroing in on you before following your line of sight to Collins. His entire demeanor shifted in an instant, the calm, composed mask replaced by something fierce and determined.

He wasn't about to let Collins get away again.

Hotch's jaw clenched, the muscles tightening as he surged through the rows of spectators, cutting through the crowd like a force of nature. His movements were swift, his hand already moving to where his gun rested beneath his jacket.

"Get away!" Hotch’s voice boomed across the ice—it was meant for you, but the crowd seemed to disappear around him quicker than you had registered the urgency in his tone.

The sound jolted you into motion, snapping the paralysis that had held you captive.

Your instincts took over. You pushed off, your skates carving harsh lines into the ice as you darted away. You zigzagged erratically, each movement wild and unpredictable, doing everything you could to stay in motion. The goal was clear: don’t stop, don't be predictable.

In the stands, chaos had erupted. Screams replaced cheers as people began to realize just exactly what was happening. Gasps and cries echoed through the arena as the crowd scrambled to get away, pushing and shoving toward the exits in a frenzy.

Collins pulled the gun from his pocket, the glint of metal catching in the arena lights. For a heart-stopping moment, the barrel was aimed directly at you. Your breath caught in your throat, and you swerved sharply, nearly losing your footing as the ice beneath you shimmered with cold indifference.

A shot ran out, the bullet carving a hole into the ice as it bounced off of it.

He adjusted his aim, tracking your frantic movements, but you didn’t let up. Although your legs burned you forced yourself to skate faster, harder, the fear and adrenaline fueling your every move.

In the stands, the crowd's panic only worsened. People screamed as Collins waved the gun around trying to follow your movements, his face twisting with frustration. His smirk was gone, replaced by a sneer that told you he wasn’t used to being denied.

"You think you can run from me?" Collins’ voice rang out, loud and venomous, cutting through the chaos.

Your heart seized. He wasn’t just dangerous—he was unhinged.

"Stay away from me!" you screamed, your voice breaking as you turned sharply, skating toward the far end of the rink in a desperate attempt to put more distance between you and him.

Collins snarled, shoving through the crowd. His frustration was noticeable even from where you were. He wasn’t just angry; he was desperate, and that made him even more dangerous and unpredictable.

To your horror, he began moving toward the same exit you were near, his eyes locked onto you like a predator closing in on its prey.

"You really think you could just leave me without any consequences?!" His voice was a feral growl, each word dripping with venom. "Let that joke of a coach take all the credit!"

You didn’t respond, your throat too tight with fear. Instead, you turned again, your movements frantic and uncoordinated, your legs trembling as exhaustion and terror began to take their toll.

Hotch and the rest of the team closed in, their movements swift and methodical. Morgan, Prentiss, and Rossi flanked Collins, weapons drawn, their voices cutting through the air as they shouted for him to drop the gun.

But Collins wasn’t listening. His focus was on you, and it sent a fresh wave of panic surging through your chest. You pushed yourself harder, tears stinging your eyes as you skated blindly, your vision blurred by fear.

Meanwhile, Hotch and the team closed in with precision. Morgan, Prentiss, and Rossi moved as one, trying to corner him, their training evident in every step they took. Their weapons were drawn, aimed steadily at him, leaving him with no visible escape route. The cold tension in the air was thick with the weight of what was about to unfold.

"Collins! Drop the weapon!" Hotch's command rang out, his voice was sharp brooking no argument. His gun remained fixed on Collins, unwavering. His posture was rigid, every muscle locked and prepared for any sudden movement. His presence alone was imposing—he was in control. You knew it, Hotch knew—and you were sure Collins could feel it too.

Collins, however, didn’t comply immediately. He hesitated, his eyes shifting wildly between you, still on the ice, and the agents closing in from every direction. His chest heaved with quick, shallow breaths, and his fingers tightened around the handle of the gun, his finger locked on the trigger, a flicker of something dangerous passing through his gaze. He was cornered, and that realization only pushed him further into a frantic, desperate state.

"You think you can stop me?" Collins spat, his voice was laced with desperation, a blend of anger and fear. His hand gripped the weapon tighter, and for a moment, it looked like he might try to make a final stand. Weighing if suicide by cop was truly worth his revenge. He squared his shoulders, his stance defensive, as though readying himself for a fight to the end. But then, without warning, he moved.

Collins lunged toward the ice, his body jerking forward with a wild, uncontrolled desperation. His shoes slipped, skidding over the slick surface, but he didn't slow down. He was heading straight for you, determined, his movements chaotic but fueled by panic.

"Stop!" Hotch's voice was more of a roar now, filled with urgency and command. It was the sound of a man who would not allow this to escalate any further.

The sharp crack of a gunshot shattered the tension that had been building. The noise rang in your ears, deafening in the silence that followed.

Collins' scream echoed in the arena as he collapsed to the ice, the shock of the bullet striking his leg sending him into a crumpled heap. He clutched at the wound, his face twisted in pain, and blood began to seep onto the pristine ice. The stark red against the white was grotesque, a cruel reminder of how close everything had come to disaster.

"You fucking shot me!" He growled.

"And you didn't listen." Within seconds, Morgan was on him, his large frame a blur of motion as he held Collins to the ground with brute force. The gun was kicked away from Collins' hand, and with a swift movement, slid to the middle of the rink. Morgan slapped handcuffs around his wrists, the sound of metal clicking shut was loud and final.

Morgan snarled something you couldn't quite hear as he yanked Collins away from the ice, dragging him off the rink with efficiency, his grip firm around his bicep. The medics were already on the scene, rushing in to tend to Collins’ wound, but you couldn’t bring yourself to watch. You couldn’t even bring yourself to breathe.

The adrenaline that had kept you upright began to fade, and it hit you all at once—the trembling in your legs, the dizziness that spread through your body like wildfire. Your vision blurred as tears threatened to spill over.

In a moment of blind panic, you pushed yourself to your feet, but your legs gave out beneath you. You barely caught your balance before you collapsed onto the ice, the world spinning around you. Gasping for air, you fought to regain control, but it was too much.

Without thinking, without even registering what you were doing, you somehow managed to get up and skate off the rink, your feet faltering with each hurried movement. You slipped your guards back on, hurrying into the nearest hallway, your heart hammering in your chest, your mind fogged with a single thought: get away!

Get away from the blood. Get away from the chaos. Get away from the haunting image of Collins’ smirk, still burned into your memory.

Get away! Get away! Get away!

You stumbled down the hallways, your hands shaking as you gripped the walls for support. The tears came then, unchecked, as you reached the bathroom. You barely made it to the stall before your body betrayed you. You collapsed onto the cold tiles, your stomach lurching violently, the bile rising in your throat. The world had become a blur, and the only thing you could focus on was the overwhelming sense of dread, of terror, that had yet to leave your chest.

Hotch’s swept his gaze across the scene before him, scanning the area for any sign of you, anything sign that you were okay. His heart clenched in his chest when he didn’t see you, the realization creeping up his spine that you were nowhere to be found, that you could be hurt.

His instincts screamed at him to move, to find you, and without another thought, he began to search the stands around the rink, his eyes darting from one corner to the next. The rest of the team had the situation under control, he knew he could trust them and the local police officers to finish up the crime scene—you were his priority now.

His search led him down the hallway, his boots echoing against the floor as he moved quickly. He passed the men’s restroom and the locker rooms, but it wasn’t until he reached the ladies' washroom that he heard it: the unmistakable sound of someone puking, the sharp, guttural noises of someone in misery.

His stomach tightened at the sound, and without hesitation, he pushed the door open with a small knock to grab your attention. The sight that greeted him made his chest tighten.

There you were, collapsed against the floor of a bathroom stall, your face pale and streaked with make-up and tears, your body wracked with sobs as you expelled everything from your stomach—the little you had ingested before the competition, most of what was coming up was bile.

The pain, the fear, the aftermath of everything you’d just lived through—it was all too much for you, and it was written on your face.

Without thinking, Hotch moved toward you, kneeling beside the stall, his posture careful and measured. His eyes softened, his heart ached at the sight of you in such distress.

He placed a reassuring hand on your back as gently as he could, trying his hardest not to startle you—he would've held your hair back if it hadn't been braided and tied in a bun.

The warmth of his palm was a stark contrast to the coldness of the bathroom floor beneath you. His touch was calm, as though he was trying to anchor you, to ease your mind back to the reality where you were safe, where Collins couldn't hurt you or the people you loved anymore.

You flinched at first, a sharp intake of breath followed by a quick sob, but the pressure of his hand seemed to ground you a little for a moment. You were still trembling, every breath shaky and uneven, but Hotch’s presence felt like your lifeline.

He didn’t speak right away, allowing you the space to let the worst of it pass. His only movement was the gentle rub of his hand against your back.

“I’ve got you,” Hotch murmured softly, his voice was low and calm, hoping that his few words would be enough to reassure you. They were a promise—one that he would keep, no matter what.

His heart ached for you, for what you’d just been through, for the fear he’d seen in your eyes when Collins had made his move. He couldn’t imagine what it must have been like to experience that terror—yet he could in some sense, remembering Foyet.

When the worst of it seemed to be over, Hotch didn’t move immediately. He stayed there, kneeling beside you, his hand still pressed against your back. He waited for you to steady yourself, to find your breath, to return from the overwhelming cloud of emotions that had gripped you.

“Hey,” he whispered, his voice was softer now, trying to coax you to turn away from the toilet. “You’re safe. It’s over."

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, you lifted your head, your eyes red and swollen, and still wet with tears, mascara streaked down your cheeks. Hotch’s gaze softened even more, his hand gently cupping the back of your neck as he gave you a small, comforting squeeze. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

You didn’t respond right away, but your shoulders shook with quiet sobs, the weight of everything sinking in. Hotch could feel your body tremble under his touch, but he didn’t pull away. He stayed by your side, his presence offering support as you slowly gathered yourself.

When you finally managed to sit up, Hotch remained beside you, watching over you, his face a mixture of concern and relief. The blood on the ice, the terror in your eyes, it had all left its mark on you, but here, in this moment, Hotch would ensure that you wouldn’t have to face anything like that again. He would be the rock you needed, no matter what.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” Hotch said quietly as he helped you to your feet. His arm was steady around your waist, supporting you as you swayed slightly, still dizzy from the ordeal.

He moved to the sink, turning the faucet to run lukewarm water. The sound of the water splashing gently against the basin filled the small bathroom, almost too peaceful compared to everything that had happened.

Hotch grabbed a stack of paper towels, his movements were quick. He didn’t know if he was doing this right, if this small gesture would make any difference, but he was determined to do something to soothe you.

He turned back to you, his eyes soft with empathy, and gently began dabbing at the streaks of mascara on your face. His touch was careful, almost tentative, as though he were afraid that any sudden movement would break you further. He didn’t know the first thing about cleaning up makeup, but he didn’t care. All he wanted was to help, to give you some semblance of comfort in this moment of vulnerability.

His fingers moved lightly across your cheeks, gently blotting away the remnants of mascara that had stained your face, trying to erase the evidence of your distress. He didn’t say anything—didn’t need to—because his actions spoke louder than words ever could.

But then, just as he thought he might have been doing something to help, he noticed the way your lips started to tremble again, your breath hitching as though another wave of emotion was about to break through. His heart squeezed in his chest as he saw the telltale signs—the way your body shook slightly.

Before he could react, a sob escaped you, followed by another, and then another. The tears came in a rush, the dam breaking once again. His attempt at cleaning you up had been in vain as clearer streaks started forming with each tear rolling from your eyes. Hotch immediately set the paper towels down, his heart aching at the sight of you in pain.

Without thinking, without a second of hesitation, he pulled you into his chest, his arms wrapping tightly around you as though he could shield you from the world. His chest rose and fell with each breath, steady and strong.

"Shh, it’s okay," Hotch whispered as he held you close, his hand running gently over your hair. He didn’t have the answers, and he couldn’t take away the hurt, but he would give you the space to feel it.

Hotch felt the way your body shook against his, the tremors that went through you, and he held you, held you tighter than ever before, as though his embrace alone could shield you from everything.

"You’re safe now," he murmured softly, his lips brushing against your hair as he continued to hold you, offering you the reassurance that maybe wasn't as much what you needed, but what he needed to get out of his system. "You’re safe. I’m here."

The warmth of his embrace, the rhythm of his steady heartbeat, was the only thing that anchored you to the present moment.

In his arms you could cry without fear of judgment, without needing to hold yourself together for anyone else. Here, with him, you were allowed to be fragile.

He stayed there, holding you, his hands never leaving you as he let you cry, not trying to fix anything but simply offering comfort. And for that moment, that small, fragile moment, everything else fell away.

At one point Hotch somehow managed to guide you out of the bathroom and down the hallway to the nearby locker room. His movements were careful, always making sure you were steady and safe in his grasp, as though every step might trigger another wave of panic or emotion. The sound of your quiet sobs still echoed in his mind, and he couldn’t help but keep you close.

When you reached the locker room, Hotch gently guided you to a bench. He sat down beside you, his posture still protective, and helped you lower yourself onto the cold, hard surface. He didn’t want to leave you for a second—he just wanted to be there, with you, until the worst of it passed. Until you were able to speak, to carry yourself, until you were back to the living.

Once you were settled, Hotch knelt in front of you, his brow furrowed with concern. Without a word, he began to untie your laces. The tension in your body was evident, and he figured removing the skates might offer you a small amount of relief, if not mentally, at least physically. He worked quickly but carefully, easing the tongue away from the bridge of your foot before slipping each skate off and gently placing them against the legs of the bench.

He was fully aware that the blades needed to be carefully wiped clean of any moisture before being packed away in your bag. But at that moment, he couldn’t bring himself to care. The skates, the blades, all of it felt insignificant compared to ensuring you were okay. If the blades rusted from neglect, so be it—he’d gladly replace them without a second thought. For now, his only focus was on you.

After a moment, Hotch sat down beside you, his body turned slightly to allow you to curl into his chest. He kept his arm wrapped securely around you, pulling you closer as you tucked yourself into his side, your face pressed into the fabric of his shirt. He didn’t speak, just held you as you settled into the rhythm of your breathing, the tears slowly tapering off, leaving behind a quiet, exhausted sadness.

The minutes stretched into what felt like hours. The world outside the locker room seemed to cease to exist as you both sat in silence. Hotch’s hand gently stroked your back in slow, reassuring motions, the soft, steady pressure the only sound breaking the stillness.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, you shifted in his arms, your breath steady but still shaky. You pulled back slightly, just enough to look up at him. His eyes met yours with the same gentle expression he’d worn the entire time, as though he were waiting for you to be ready to speak.

“You okay?” Hotch asked softly, his voice low, though his words were full of care.

You swallowed thickly, your throat raw from crying, but you nodded. "I… think I’m getting there." You paused for a moment, gathering your thoughts. "It’s just… a lot, Hotch. I didn’t think he’d go that far. Collins… I never thought he’d get so desperate." Your voice cracked slightly as the words left your mouth. It felt like your stomach twisted again, thinking back to the way Collins had come after you.

Hotch shifted slightly, bringing you closer, his arms wrapping completely around your body. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” he said quietly. “But I’m here to listen if you do.”

You took a deep breath and wiped your eyes, your face flushed from the tears. “I just… I don’t know how to process all of this right now,” you admitted, the weight of the situation settling back in. "Collins made me feel... like I was back under his coaching, and I just… I froze. I don’t usually freeze. I think I might need to see Dr. Jensen, like, ASAP.”

Hotch gave a small nod, his fingers gently tracing the back of your hand. “I think that’s a good idea. Dr. Jensen has some great tools to put trauma into perspective. We all need to check in with her after situations like this.”

A moment passed between you two, both of you processing everything in your own way. Hotch continued to keep his arm around you, giving you the space to breathe, to feel safe, and just be in the moment without any pressure to rush through your emotions.

Eventually, you shifted again, looking up at him, a small, tired smile pulling at the corners of your lips. “I really appreciate you being here, Hotch. I don’t think I could have gotten through this without you and the team.”

His gaze softened as he met your eyes, his hand gently brushing a lock of hair that had escaped from your bun away from your face. “You don’t have to thank me. I’m just doing my job.” His voice was low, steady, and sincere.

You smiled, feeling the warmth rush to your cheeks.

You both sat there for a long while in the quiet, each of you just existing in the presence of the other. There was still so much to deal with for the both of you, but for now that could wait.

As you sat there, curled into Hotch’s side, the muffled sounds of the competition picking back up played in the background. The echo of the crowd's cheers and the soft hum of music slipping through the walls barely registered to you. Everything felt distant—like a world away.

The scoreboard might have flashed up in the rink, but you had no desire to see it. You didn’t even know what your score was, and honestly, at that moment, you didn’t care.

The adrenaline rush from earlier had evaporated, replaced by a heavy fog of exhaustion. Your mind kept replaying fragments of what had happened—his movements on the ice, the way he lunged toward you—but you couldn’t hold onto the details long enough to make sense of them.

It was a subtle shift, but you noticed it immediately. The persistent, rhythmic beats that had filled the air slowly faded away, leaving a strange emptiness behind. You didn’t look toward the door. You didn’t even need to. The sudden silence stretched, lingering for longer than usual. Your ears, that had unconsciously been filled with the sound of skates cutting into the ice and the crowd’s murmurs, now only heard the quiet thrum of your own heartbeat and the soft breath of Hotch beside you.

You both listened, and you realized—truly realized—that it was over. The competition had finally come to an end, but neither of you moved. There was no rush to stand up, to re-enter the world outside the locker room. Neither of you wanted to break the fragile sense of calm that had settled between you. You stayed there, sitting close, your head now resting gently against his shoulder, your body felt heavy.

The silence seemed to stretch, not uncomfortable, but rather a shared moment of understanding. You didn’t have to speak. Hotch didn’t push you to get up or check the time. There was no need for words when everything you needed was right here.

Time passed—minutes, or maybe even longer—but neither of you stirred. You felt no sense of urgency to return to the world that still buzzed beyond the door. It felt like an unspoken agreement between you two that everything could wait.

It was Hotch who finally broke the silence, but only with a soft, low voice. “Do you want to know your score?” he asked, his hand still resting on your back.

You shook your head, your voice barely above a whisper. “No, I don’t.” It wasn’t about that anymore. The numbers, the judges’ opinions, none of it mattered.

Hotch gave a small, understanding nod. He could sense it—that subtle shift in your demeanor. You had given everything you had out there, and now you were processing, letting yourself breathe. He respected that. He didn’t press you any further.

It was only when the sound of the door creaking open that the silence was interrupted. You didn’t look up immediately, assuming it was one of the medics or someone else from the team checking in, but then the unmistakable sound of blade guards thumping on the floor caught your attention.

You slowly lifted your head, and there she was—Natalia Ivanova. Her presence in the doorway felt like a sudden gust of wind, sharp and cool. Her usual poised demeanor was notably absent today. Instead, she stood there, framed by the light from the hallway, her face an unreadable mask.

It was clear she wasn’t happy, her lips were pressed into a thin line and her posture was stiff.

But despite the tension in her body, there was something softer in her eyes as they landed on you. She hesitated for a fraction of a second before walking over to the opposite side of the room. She didn’t sit down next to Hotch, as if she could sense the connection between the two of you, and instead chose the bench opposite you.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. She studied you quietly, and you could feel the weight of her gaze—an unfamiliar mix of empathy and understanding. Then, finally, she broke the silence.

“I… I’m sorry,” she began. “I heard about what you’ve been through, and I can tell that you're struggling.” She paused, as if carefully considering her words. “This whole thing, it must’ve been a lot.”

You blinked, surprised by her tone. Natalia was always known for her competitiveness and her need to win. To hear her speak like this, with such a rare hint of vulnerability even friendliness, caught you off guard.

She cleared her throat, her gaze softening as she glanced toward the floor for a moment before returning to meet your eyes. “I can’t imagine what it’s been like... but I’m glad you made it out.” There was a brief, unspoken understanding between you two that you didn’t need to elaborate on.

There was a long pause, but then, with surprising sincerity, Natalia’s lips curled slightly. She hesitated only a beat longer before continuing, her voice quieter now, tinged with a different kind of emotion. “And… congratulations. For winning.” She said it like it meant something more than just a passing acknowledgment, her tone warmer than it had ever been toward you.

You blinked, stunned. The words were so unexpected that you almost couldn’t process them. Winning regionals? You hadn’t even thought about the competition in that light, too wrapped up in the chaos surrounding Collins and everything that had happened. You hadn’t expected a win, not after everything. But here she was, telling you that you had actually won.

The shock of it left you momentarily speechless. You weren’t sure whether to smile or simply absorb the reality. You had been too lost in your head, in your fears, to even focus on the outcome of the event. But now that the weight of it was settling on your shoulders, you couldn’t help but feel a swell of disbelief.

Natalia gave a small, knowing shrug, as if she saw the confusion in your expression and understood it. “You earned it,” she said quietly. “You did great.”

You glanced at her, searching her face for any sign of insincerity. But there was none. She was being genuine, her earlier frustration and tension replaced with something softer now—respect, maybe.

Then, before you could fully digest the moment, she added, almost as an afterthought, her voice lower, more reflective, “I’m just glad that, if I had to lose, it was to you.” She didn’t make it a big deal, but the sentiment was there. It was the kind of acknowledgment that took you by surprise, not because you hadn’t worked hard, but because it was coming from her.

It took you a moment to register what she meant by it, but when it hit you, a small, surprised smile tugged at the corner of your lips. Natalia was admitting, in her own way, that she respected you. That, despite everything, there was a recognition between you two.

Hotch, still sitting next to you, didn’t interrupt, allowing the two of you this moment. His hand, still resting lightly on your back, was the only reminder of his presence.

You turned your attention back to Natalia, still processing her words. “Thank you,” you managed to say, the words feeling small but significant. There was so much you wanted to say in return, but you weren’t sure how to express it.

Natalia smiled, just slightly, almost imperceptibly. It wasn’t the usual smug smile you’d grown used to seeing from her—it was something else. Something a little more genuine, and perhaps, even... empathetic. Something that made you think that maybe you could be friends one day.

Hotch watched as Natalia left, her steps echoing down the hallway, leaving behind a silence that felt heavier than the weight of the moment. The door had clicked shut behind her, and he turned back to you.

His gaze lingered on you for a second longer than it should, and something stirred deep inside him. The urge to reach out, to hold you, to offer something—anything—that might make this all go away for you. It almost suffocated him, the way his heart pulled him in two directions. His mind screamed at him to stay professional, to keep things in check, to never let his personal feelings cloud his judgment. After all, he didn’t know where this case was going or where you were going after this.

But then, there was the quiet pull deep inside him, the unspoken ache that he’d learned to bury for so long. You were here, in front of him, vulnerable, raw, and beautiful in a way that made his chest tighten. He never allowed himself to truly acknowledge it—not fully—because that would’ve made it too real, too dangerous. But in moments like this, when you were so close, so broken and strong at the same time, that ache in his chest came alive.

He wanted to kiss you.

The thought hit him like a storm, and his breath caught. Just the idea of it—the soft press of your lips, the way you might lean into him, allowing him to hold you in a way that transcended what he had allowed himself to imagine—sent a surge of warmth through him. It was maddening, and he fought against it with everything he had.

His fingers twitched at his side, but he clenched them into a fist, forcing himself to remain still. Professionalism. That was the mantra he clung to. You were a victim of a violent crime, someone he’d been tasked with protecting, not someone he could indulge these feelings for. Especially not now, with everything so raw, so fresh—your life had just been threatened in the most violent way. The last thing you needed was for him to add to the confusion with his feelings.

But there was no denying the pull. No denying how much he wanted to be close to you. To offer something to make you feel safe again. And yet, in his mind, he kept telling himself it wasn’t the right time. Not now. Not when you were still processing everything that had happened. Not when you were still so fragile.

He could feel the battle inside him intensify as he watched you. His heart ached for you—he wanted to be the one to hold you through it all, to offer the comfort and security that was slipping through his grasp.

He stayed where he was, sitting beside you, unsure whether it was the right thing to do. But he couldn’t bring himself to leave.

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