#I Don’t Know How Long It’s Been In My Inbox Unnoticed

[daily-crowley]

hi! do you have any pics of 1941 crowley? i love that slutty outfit and i frankly can't have enough of it. thank you <3

Crowley Of The Day: I’m so sorry for barley replying to this but I got you! I live to please and it’s todays COTD just for you.

He will always have a special place in my heart honestly 🖤

[bballesbolol]

Jealous Girl

summary: Paige wasn’t too happy about seeing Azzi sitting courtside in Georgia's jersey. Lucky for her, Azzi was planning on that.

Warnings: SMUT, written like they’re in a healthy relationship bc they are, jealous Paige, intense sexual tension, they’re both horny and not chill about it, Paige and Azzi both plotting, teasing, strap on use, Paige is a chatty gyal, jersey problems on and off the court..

a/n: THE JERSEY ONE SHOT ‼️ This feels a little crazy to post in broad daylight but I’ve been sitting on it for too long. I would say I’m embarrassed but I think this is really well written so I’m standing on business. I wrote what I wrote y’all better like it!!🤗

(on a real note I wont know if you guys want me to keep writing if you don’t talk to me, so be in my inbox telling me what you think!!

If you came from TGWP this is so incredibly freaked out I’m sorry. If you don’t know what I’m talking about go read The Game We Play for some fun fluffy high school Pazzi!!

Barely proofread and I’m gonna be late for work so ignore mistakes and BYEEEE

wc: 8.1k

Azzi looked damn good at shoot around. That’s what Paige thought, at least. Hair done, skin glowing, outfit simple enough to make her stand out.

Just a white UConn long sleeve and a baggy pair of jeans. No jersey—Paige hadn’t been able to give her hers before she had to take the court.

But it was fine. She was repping her school. Still cheering for Paige by association.

That was, until she caught a glimpse of red out of the corner of her eye.

She didn’t see her at first, too busy warming up at the rim. But when Arike pulled her aside to pass, it was the first thing that caught her eye.

Bright as a fucking siren.

A mystics jersey—Georgia’s jersey—number 8 plastered firmly across the chest.

Maybe she was crazy. Maybe that wasn’t even Azzi—because she knew what this would do to her.

She blinked, like that would make the jersey disappear.

Obviously it didn’t.

She opened them to find Azzi’s eyes meeting her own. Big and brown and deceivingly innocent. But there was something deeper in them, concealing itself behind her doe-eyed gaze. A glint—one that was starting to look like a challenge.

She knew what Azzi was doing. Prodding. Teasing. Testing. Seeing how much of a reaction she could get out of her

This would be all over social media tomorrow. It would be all over her mind tonight.

She knew exactly what she was doing.

Azzi’s head cocked to the side, and she mirrored the movement with her own.

She couldn’t give too much away. Not now, with cameras on her and teammates all around.

She needed subtlety. But she wanted to give Azzi some of the reaction she clearly, desperately wanted.

She bounced a ball to Arike, and in the same motion, pinched the neckline of her own jersey, then with the same hand gestured to Azzi. A quiet question mark. One to let Azzi know she noticed.

Azzi just smiled—a smug, proud-of-herself grin—eyes not leaving Paige’s for a second.

And Paige? Well, she just couldn’t let that happen.

She held her hand up to Arike. Eyes surveying for cameras, calculating exactly how much she could get away with.

fuck it.

She made her way over to Azzi. Slow. Casual. Azzi's face shifted, small enough to go unnoticed by the media, but Paige saw it.

her eyebrows raised less than a millimeter, smile dropping ever so slightly.

Slowly, Azzi rose out of her seat, but her face didn’t soften. She wasn’t sure what Paige was playing at. She didn’t expect her to poke back.

Paige raised her arms at her sides, inviting Azzi in for a hug.

Azzi looked at her, maybe confused, maybe a little nervous, but she slowly opened her arms too, letting Paige close the gap between them.

Paige wrapped her arms around her, making sure her fingers hit no lower than her upper back. Friendly, just reconnecting with her favorite “former teammate”. But her mouth told another story.

Paige let her chin settle on Azzi’s shoulder, lips just beside her ear, close enough for Azzi to feel her next breath.

“You really want to get me riled up?” Her words were just below a whisper, but their impact was loud enough.

They sent a shiver down Azzi’s spine. Paige felt her stiffen, just slightly, under her touch.

Paige pulled away, giving her best media-darling smile and taking a step back, letting her eyes rake up and down Azzi.

Azzi smiled back, but not the same as before. This one felt more like a shield. Azzi cleared her throat,

“I’m just repping the hometown team,” Azzi’s eyes left Paige’s for a second, drifting off somewhere behind her, probably finding whatever camera crew was tracking Paige’s every move.

Her eyes snapped back, voice dropping as she added “That okay with you, Paige?”

Paige just grinned back, eyes sharp.

“Oh, it’s wonderful Azzi.”

She watched as Azzi slowly lowered herself back down to her seat. She was trying her best to look unphased. Her face was calm as ever, breath even, hands steady. She leaned back and turned to her towards her dad like Paige hadn’t just given her full body chills. But the way she crossed her legs, thighs pressing together a little too hard to ignore, told Paige everything she needed to know.

She turned back to the court, only to find what Azzi had been looking at behind her.

Georgia Amore, leaning on the scorers table at half court, a smile plastered across her face.

That was enough to distract her from her task at hand—that being catching the ball that Arike had just bounced her way.

Her hands moved too late to catch it before it made its way past her and towards the baseline.

Apparently the universe felt like testing her today.

Looks like she’d just have to test it right back.

***

That fucking jersey must’ve been bad luck. That’s what Paige told herself as she walked off of the court.

She’d hit the three that brought them into overtime. Enough to extend the loss, but they still came up short.

It stung, but the loss wasn’t even in the forefront of her mind, as much as she wanted it to be.

Because the truth was, she’d been thinking of Azzi all night. More specifically, the nerve she had.

Every time she made a shot, her eyes found their way back to her. Every on court huddle. During each timeout. The glance even made its way into her free throw routine.

She Had to bite back a scowl every time she made it on to the Jumbotron.

Azzi had been stuck in her brain since she walked into the gym. And maybe that was what she had wanted. But, unlucky for Azzi, she had had plenty of time to consider what she’d do to Azzi after the game. Ample time to gather together her playbook.

Paige had a plan. She knew exactly how to deal with her, and the offensive started now.

She made her way out of the tunnel, eyes skimming the crowd that lingered on the court.

She had obligations—photos to take, media to deal with—but she was gonna have her fun with it.

She saw Aliyah first, still in her uniform. She was chatting with Amari, who had made her way down from the stands. Azzi stood in front of the two of them, laughing at something one of them had said.

Georgia must’ve left—or maybe Azzi had chickened out not that the crowd was gone—because she was back to just her UConn long sleeve.

Paige drifted closer, a smile plastered across her face.

Amari was the first person to see her

“PAIGEY!” She made her way to Paige and swallowed her in a hug. Paige leaned into it, but her focus was elsewhere. Her eyes found Azzi’s, holding their gaze as Amari released her from her arms.

”missed you too” She let her eyes leave Azzi’s and instead finding Amari’s, and she offered her a sincere smile.

Aliyah was next to move, pulling her into a side hug.

“Good game today P”

Paige pulled away, playfully prodding her shoulder, “for you maybe, kicked my ass”

Aliyah laughed, pushing her back and adding, “PB5 headlined the scouting report”

Paige managed an “I’m sure” through her halfhearted laughter. She looked up once more to find Azzi’s eyes waiting for her.

“and you—“ she made her way over to Azzi, slow, painfully casual, lethally calm. Paige slung her arm around Azzi’s shoulders, voice dropping as she continued, “look so much better in white”

Paige gave her shoulder a casual squeeze and continued, voice a little lighter—a little louder too, not meant for Azzi alone, “thank you for coming tonight”

Amari and Aliyah glanced at each other, a knowing smirk on each of their faces. Amari let a snicker slip free, and Aliyah elbowed her in the ribs.

Paige turned back to them, letting her arm drift down Azzi’s back, finger tips grazing down her spine until settling at her waist, where they froze before falling away from her entirely.

“sooo, pictures?” Aliyah's voice broke the silence that had stretched between them for a second too long.

Azzi cleared her throat, taking a step away from Paige, “yes, definitely pictures, and then I gotta go.” Her eyes flicked to Paige for a slit second, “It’s a uh, long drive back to Storrs”

Paige slipped her hand into her pocket, fingertips grazing the small, plastic card she had grabbed out of her backpack before taking the court.

The four of them waved a cameraman over, throwing hands over shoulders and flashing their best camera-ready smiles.

Two shutter clicks in, Paige's hand slipped from Azzi’s shoulder, thumb tucked around her spare room key, traveling down her spine once again, with the same sinful slowness as before. She felt Azzi squeeze her shoulder, but she didn’t let up. She let her hand find the waistband of Azzi’s jeans, then the seam at the top of her back pocket.

Carefully, she slid the keycard into her pocket, before shifting her hand to Azzi’s waist.

“All good, thank you ladies” The camera man placed the lense cap back onto his camera and strolled away, leaving the four of them alone in their corner of the court.

Paige was the first to speak up.

“Well, I gotta head back to the hotel, the team shuttle is probably waiting for me out back.”

Azzi was next, cutting in so quick she nearly cut Paige off.

“I should probably hit the road too”

The corner of Paige’s lips curled into a sly smirk as she cocked her head slightly before responding

“Oh yeah, long way back to Storrs—right?” Her tone was thick with venomous concern. Salt disguised as sugar. Azzi’s heel found her toe, stepping down on it swiftly.

The four exchanged hugs, last goodbyes, and promises to meet soon, and just like that the two went their separate ways—Paige heading for the tunnel, and Azzi for the floor exit in the stands.

***

11:24.

The hotel was quiet. The room dim.

Paige sat on the chair near the side of her bed, illuminated only by the small light on the headboard, eyes fixed on the door.

Her jersey sat neatly folded on her bedside table, below it sat exactly what Azzi was craving.

A click echoed through the silence. The sound of the door unlocking from the outside.

Slowly, the handle turned, and a sliver of light from the hallway trickled through.

“Hey”

Azzi’s voice carried into the room as she followed the light into Paige's room, letting the door close gently behind her.

Paige let the silence between them stretch as her eyes raked down Azzi’s body. She had changed, ditched the jeans for a pair of sweat shorts, and slipped into a baggy UConn sweatshirt.

Paige stood, making her way over to the door that Azzi was frozen in front of.

“Hi baby,” Paige's voice was sickly sweet as she bridged the gap between the two of them. She reached out like she was going to grab Azzi’s waist, and Azzi leaned in to her like she expected it. Instead, Paige's hand found the door behind her, fingers ghosting across it until they found the knob of the deadbolt. She turned it, a definite click ringing through the quiet.

Azzi’s breath caught somewhere low in her throat at the sound.

Paige let her hand fall from the lock to the small of Azzi’s back, cold fingers slipping underneath the fabric of her sweatshirt. Azzi shivered at the touch.

Paige dipped her head so that her lips just barely brushed her earlobe, close enough for Azzi to feel her words.

“Thought you had a long drive?” Paige’s lips brushed the side of her neck. She could feel her pulse hammering. She’d been waiting for this.

Azzi’s breath hitched as Paige’s lips ghosted along her neck and to her jaw.

“You kidding?” Azzi’s head tipped to the side, opening up her neck to Paige, “I haven’t been alone with you since I helped you move into your apartment”

Paige smiled into her neck. Let her hands drift up her back, thumbs tracing slow, torturous circles across her warm skin.

“Yeah? That why you’re here?” She pulled away from Azzi to look her in the eyes.

Azzi met hers with the same false innocence she had given her courtside.

“God forbid girl have needs—” Azzi’s hands reached for Paige’s hips. She pulled her closer and leaned in, planting a kiss on her lips.

Paige pulled away as she went in for a second. Her hands continued to drift higher, now finding the ridges of her ribs, letting her fingertips find solace in the shallow dips between the bones.

“You needy for me?” Paige’s voice was sultry—deep and breathy—and it found a way to bypass Azzi’s brain and settle somewhere between her legs.

Paige could feel her squirming. Watched with a wicked grin as she pressed her thighs together in an attempt to ease the ache in her core. Paige let one hand slip from Azzi's rib cage and slide, ever-so-slowly up her back, until fingertips grazed the tight curls at the nape of her neck.

“P—stop it” Azzi’s voice trickled from her lips as Paige found her neck again, breath hot against the smooth skin. She let her grip on the back of Azzi’s neck tighten, just enough for her to feel it.

“Stop what?” She let her nose brush her neck as she trailed barely-there kissed down towards her collar bone, leaving goosebumps in it’s wake.

“You know what you’re doing”

Paige walked Azzi back until she was up against the door. The corners of her lips curled when she heard Azzi let out a small sigh.

Slowly, Paige licked one solid stripe from Azzi’s collarbone, all the way up her neck until she was settled back by her ear. Azzi let out a quiet whimper, head falling back to rest on the door.

“So did you” Paige slid her hands back down to Azzi’s waist before removing them from her entirely, taking a slow step back to admire her work.

Azzi was leaned back against the door, eyes glassy, thighs clenched, breath coming in short rapid bursts—

For a fraction of a second, she looked devastatingly desperate.

Azzi’s head snapped up from the door. She took a step forward, trying her to pull

herself together, lips forming into her best attempt at a smirk.

“You jealous, Paige?”

Paige snickered. She wasn’t really—not anymore at least. Yeah, she had wanted to rip the jersey off of her in the moment, but now? Obviously it was the least of her concern.

Because Azzi just wanted to get her attention—to rile her up so she would take it out on her after the fact. She couldn’t be mad at her for trying either, because obviously, it worked. It had gotten her this far already, so why not play Azzi’s game all the way through?

“what if I was?” Paige turned away from her, moving back towards the chair and slowly lowering herself down, staring at Azzi across the room.

“What if during that game all I could think of was ripping it off of you”

Azzi made her way towards Paige, slowly, eyes never leaving hers.

“I’d probably think that was hot” Azzi’s hands reached behind Paige's head, fingers interlocking at the base of her neck. Slowly, she slid one knee up beside Paige’s thigh, swinging her other leg up and over her so that she was straddling her lap.

“And…I’d probably tell you that I would make it up to you” Her voice was low and thick with need—music to Paige’s ears.

“Yeah?” Paige’s hands moved to grip Azzi’s hips, “And how would you do that?”

Azzi smiled, sliding her hands from the back of Paige’s neck down to her chest.

“Just lean back and I’ll show you”

And oh, Paige listened. She let her hips slide forward, sinking deeper into the chair, watching as Azzi leaned down to meet her lips.

She leaned into the kiss, letting Azzi lead her wherever she wanted to go.

It was sloppy, all teeth and tongue and weeks of pent up longing boiling over. Paige let a sigh slip from her mouth as Azzi shifted her hips, grinding down into her lap.

Azzi felt the shift. How Paige leaned into the smooth roll of her hips against her center. The way her pulse felt faster under her fingertips. The little gasps and sighs when Azzi grinded on her just right.

Azzi pulled back from the kiss, and stepped down from the chair, one knee at a time, until she stood in front of Paige. Then—with painful slowness—Azzi sunk to her knees.

Paige was just taking it all in. 10 minutes ago she was sure that Azzi would be on her back the second she walked through that door, not on her knees in front of her.

She let her knees splay out, making room for Azzi to settle in between her thighs.

“Can I take these off?” Azzi’s hand slid down to the waistband of her sweatpants, fingers slipping just under to graze the soft skin beneath.

“Be my guest” Paige was trying her best to stick to her plan—stay calm, keep control, make her wait, make her beg.

Well, she was getting the last one, but if it went how she knew it was going she risked abandoning the rest of it. Because the sight of Azzi on her knees, head between her thighs, eyes glossy and lips parted ever so slightly—was one thing that could make her send any restraint she had out of the nearest window.

Azzi’s fingers found the waistband of Paige’s boxers, tracing the seam along the edge, and Paige had to hold back a soft sigh.

Her fingers retreated, dragging back up Paige’s stomach with intentional slowness. She lowered her head, placing a kiss to the skin exposed just above the waistband of her sweatpants, before slipping her thumbs under it. Slowly, she slid them down her thighs, and Paige just let her. Helped her—even. Lifted her hips and watched the fabric glide down her legs until it pooled at her ankles.

Azzi’s eyes found Paige's again, her full lips pursed into the most intentional of pouts. Her hand dragged back up Paige's thighs, until they were back where they started, pressed up against Paige’s stomach.

She thumbed the waistband of Paige's boxers, “Can these go too?”

She’d wanted to say yes. God yes. Take ‘em, they’re all yours—

She was too damn easy.

But she didn’t. She couldn't let this be her breaking point—not when she’d made it this far already. Not when her jersey was still sitting untouched on the night stand behind her.

Paige extended her arm, hand meeting Azzi’s cheek. Her thumb traced the skin that stretched over her cheekbone, before gliding down the side of her face and settling at her jaw. Then she gripped and tilted, just enough that Azzi couldn't look away from her.

“I don’t know…”

“Paige” Azzi whined, fingertips beginning to slip under the hem of Paige's boxers.

Paige’s other hand extended fast, gripping Azzi’s wrist and holding her back.

“Azzi. Not yet.” Her words were definite. Devoid of the need she was desperately trying to conceal from the challenge between her legs.

“Just—can’t you just touch me—please P?” Azzi was slowly losing whatever calm she had fought so hard to find, instead letting desperation leak through.

Paige just cocked her head. Watched. And Azzi cracked—scratch that—split, wide open.

Azzi continued, words coming quick and uncontrolled, “Or—I can touch you. Don’t you want that? Want me to make you feel good? Just—something—please, do something. Or let me do something—”

Paige paused. Let Azzi’s words settle into her brain and trickle down her spine. Felt it somewhere deep in her core. And just as the silence settled, she opened her mouth to respond.

“What, can’t wait to get that pretty little mouth of yours on me?” Paige let her thumb glide up to Azzi’s mouth, pressing into it just enough to feel the heat, before dragging it down her lower lip, “but, at the game today it was a different story—right?”

Azzi was quick to protest, “no—”

Page pressed her thumb back to her mouth, pressing firmly so her lips sealed around her words.

“Yes—it was. From the looks of it, you weren’t even there for me today” Paige half expected Azzi to pipe up again, but she remained still under her touch. So, she continued.

“Couldn’t rep me courtside and now my baby wants me to make her feel good? What about me, Az?” Her voice was calculated. Low, teasing, daring. Like she wanted to drag out the most desperate parts of Azzi and tear them apart but by bit.

“I know what you came here for. Been a while since I was inside you, huh?” Azzi nodded. Not shy or embarrassed. Quick and definite and confirming everything Paige already knew—had known since those eyes found hers pregame.

Paige jerked her head, “Get up.”

She pulled both her hands away from Azzi. Watched as she squirmed at Paige's words. At how little they gave away. At the control they had over her.

Slowly, Azzi rose from her place on the floor, fighting the wobble in her knees.

She stepped closer, shins brushing the chair that Paige was still firmly settled into. Azzi let her hands rest on Paige's shoulders. Paige’s hand extended once more, this time meeting the lower hem of Azzi’s sweatshirt, careful to not make contact with Azzi’s skin that was buzzing with need just beneath.

“Take this off for me” It was less of a request and more of a command. But Azzi obeyed, fingertips finding the hem of the sweatshirt and beginning to lift. Quick and mindless, like she would roll over too, if she asked.

Her eyes followed the rising lower band of Azzi’s sweatshirt, eyes taking in each inch of new skin she exposed.

Azzi dragged the sweatshirt up and over her head, exposing what she had on underneath.

A thin bralette, black and lacy and utterly intentional—meant to be seen. It contoured the curves of Azzi’s breasts, framing them like fine art.

Paige's restraint was wearing thin. By now it was probably rivaling embroidery floss, and it was stretching thinner with way Azzi was looking at her now—waiting on her next words like they meant life or death.

Her next words were curt, like she knew that if she let her mouth move for too long, it would somehow find its way onto Azzi.

“Shorts too”

Azzi moved without hesitation. Slipped her hands into the waist of her shorts and swiftly guiding them down her thighs.

Beneath them, a pair of high cut black lace panties clung to Azzi’s frame.

Matching. She’s planned for this to be seen.

Paige stood, slowly, and Azzi backed off. Tense, like she was anticipating a full blown breakdown of the control Paige had held over her since she’d walked in.

Instead, Paige slid past her, careful to avoid contact as she went, and stood behind Azzi.

“See that?” Paige gestured to her jersey, still untouched behind them. Azzi’s eyes followed the movement until they spotted the navy and green sitting neatly folded on the table.

“Paige. You’re kidding right?” Azzi almost sounded amused, words coming out with a breathy, half-laugh. Paige’s face didn’t move a muscle. She was dead serious.

“Nope.”

Azzi reached out for the jersey, fingers closing around its neckline and lifting it as she shot back, “I’m not putting this on, I hope you know—“ Her next words caught in her throat when she lifted the jersey and saw what was sitting beneath it.

Because apparently, Paige’s strap had made the journey to DC with her. And now it was sitting in front of her, casually, on the nightstand like it was a box of tissues or a glass of water.

Azzi’s head snapped around to face Paige, jersey still in hand. Paige just stared back at her with a satisfied smirk on her face.

“You want it?” Her tone was teasing, voice dropped so low that Azzi was sure she was trying to kill her.

She couldn't speak, just nodded, eyes blazing. Paige's eyes blazed back, with something different—blue flame—hot and wild and threatening to burn straight through Azzi. Turn her to ashes before Paige's hands had even grazed below the belt.

“Then you gotta put it on, Az”

Azzi whined, reaching out for Paige hopelessly, “Paige”

Paige took another step back, dodging the touch like it was a spark escaping a campfire. Her words came out taunting, “Gotta prove that you’re still a fan after your little stunt today”

“just—” Azzi tried to speak, but Paige quickly cut her off.

“Didn’t think twice when it was georgias”

Azzi tried again, “that was different—”

“ Azzi.” Paige cut her off once more, this time her words fired off with a purpose, aimed to hit Azzi somewhere deep in her core, “I’m not gonna fuck you until my name’s across your back”

“I—” Paige didn’t give her the chance to recover.

She shot again, words rough and breathy, just above a whisper “S’that what you want? To go home hot and needy? Get the job done with your fingers, alone in your dorm tomorrow night, thinking about what I would’ve done to you?”

The blow hit right on target. Paige watched as Azzi shivered, knees bobbling as her thighs pressed together.

Slowly, Azzi lifted the jersey, holding it open, and in one smooth motion pulled it down over her head, letting it drape across her body. Paige swallowed, taking in the sight. The fabric fell to her upper thighs, covering up her underwear in a way that was so effortlessly sexy that it almost made her fall to her knees.

Slowly, she reached out, fingers slipping below the bottom hem of the jersey and grasping Azzi’s hips, pulling her closer. Azzi melted into the touch, a satisfied sigh leaving her lips as she let her head fall onto Paige’s shoulder.

“Good girl”

Paige pushed her back, and Azzi whimpered. Loud, unabashed, laced with pure need. She almost dragged her back and threw her down on the bed—until she saw where she was headed.

Slowly, Paige made her way over to the nightstand, reaching out for the strap. She methodically secured the harness to her, tightening it so it was flush against her. So she could feel everything.

Azzi was fighting to keep her mouth shut—and failing, apparently.

Paige looked at her, a smirk on her face, “I told you you could have it once you put my shit on” she gripped the base of the strap and looked at Azzi expectantly, “come and get it.”

Azzi didn't need to be told twice. She closed the distance between them, hands reaching out for Paige's stomach as she sunk to her knees at her feet.

Paige nearly exploded. Azzi didn’t even look at her, eyes fixed instead at the strap as she trailed her hands down Paige’s thighs. She could feel the pulse between her thighs growing stronger by the second as Azzi moved.

Slowly, Azzi placed a wet, open mouthed kiss to the skin just above the harness. Then, she licked a slow, torturous, stripe up her navel.

Paige moaned, the sound prying loose from somewhere deep in her chest. Then Azzi was on her.

Slow at first. Her head dipped back down to the tip of the strap, and she placed a gentle kiss on the tip. Her tongue peek out from between her lips, slowly meeting the silicon. She let her tongue settle beneath the tip, and then met Paige’s eyes and took it into her mouth, lips closing around it.

She sucked, once, tongue swirling around the strap, then she pulled herself loose with a gentle pop.

Paige’s hand dropped to the back of Azzi’s head, fingers interlacing with the soft curls that fell freely from her scalp.

“You’re gonna fuckin’ kill me if you keep looking at me like that” Her tone was different. More desperate, need trickling through the cracked facade of her control.

Azzi’s tongue dragged up the side of the strap, eyes still locked on Paige’s. She pulled away and replied with a smirk, “Like what?”

Paige throbbed. Because that look? It was lethal.

“fuck you” Paiges hand gripped Azzi’s hair, pressing her mouth back onto the strap. Azzi let out a “mmm” against the silicon as she took it into her mouth again.

Her head bobbed, moving with the push of Paige's hand on the back of her head.

Paige moaned like she could feel everything. Each drag of Azzi’s tongue. The softness of her lips. The buzz of her groans against the strap.

She didn't think this could get any better.

That was, until she watched one of Azzi’s hands leave her thigh and trail down her own body, until it arrived between her legs.

Paige watched helplessly as Azzi’s fingers traced her clit through the fabric of her underwear. Azzi moaned into the strap at the contact, fingers sliding beneath the fabric and slipping it to the side, exposing her aching pussy.

Azzi didn’t let up on Paige for a second, mouth working up and down her strap, but now her fingers worked too. Azzi slid then into herself, moaning as she did, kickstarting a slow, slick rhythm as she pumped her fingers in and out of herself.

Paige nearly came at the sight of it. At the ease. How fucking wet she was, just from this.

She couldn't hold back any longer.

Her fingers curled into a fist in Azzi’s hair, pulling her back. Azzi dragged her fingers out of herself, a small string of slick stretching from her as she did. She looked up at Paige, pupils blown and lips parted.

“fuck” Paiges voice was barely a whisper, like the word had slipped out on accident.

She let her fingers pull free from Azzi’s hair and drag down to her jaw, closing around it and lifting gently.

Azzi stood, hands finding Paige's waist. Paige leaned in and kissed her, devoid of the restraint she had relied on. Paige didn’t need to deepen it. She was already halfway to hell the second her lips were on Azzi’s. It was messy—open mouthed, wet, desperate—the kind of kiss that sucks the oxygen straight out of your lungs. Paige sucked on Azzi’s lower lip before letting her tongue find Azzi's in a deep, filthy glide, like she needed to taste every inch of her mouth.

Azzi moaned into her mouth, hands wandering, desperately trying to ground herself.

Paige walked Azzi back until the back of her knees met the edge of the mattress. The buckled instantaneously, inviting the plush embrace that the bed offered her. Paige lowered her down, keeping their lips intertwined as she went. Azzi’s hands fell back to Paige’s hips, trying her hardest to pull her closer.

Paige felt the contact. The need. She pulled back from her, trying and failing to hold in a groan at the sight of Azzi. She looked devastated, eyes glossy, lips kiss bitten and swollen, spit glistening around her mouth. And then her eyes dragged down to her body. They way her jersey contoured every soft curve of her body. She sucked in a sharp breath.

“You ready?” The words were low and drawn out.

Azzi shifted beneath her and whined, “Paige. Does anything about me say I’m not.”

Paige watched, trying to hold back a smile that was threatening to slip through, “Maybe its the fact that you haven’t said it yet”

Azzi stared at her for a moment, took in a deep breath and closed her eyes.

”I want you to fuck me. Like, right now.”

Paige couldn’t hold back the grin that took over her face. Azzi had finally cracked—given her exactly what she needed to hear. Paige was ready to give her exactly what she wanted.

“Thank you baby” Her words were soft, but still carried the same teasing edge.

Paige gripped the base of the strap, lining up her hips to Azzi’s, hovering just outside of her entrance. She let the tip drag through her slick folds, and Azzi let out a strained, breathy sound.

Slowly, Paige pushed the strap into her. She groaned as she watched her pussy swallow her, stretching around the silicon.

“fuck” Azzi whimpered, hands reaching to grab a fistful of the topsheet.

Paige slowed, hand reaching out to cup azzi’s face.

“Do you need a second baby?” Her voice was quiet and laced with genuine concern.

Azzi shook her head, eyes screwed shut.

Paige’s thumb traced her cheek, ”words, Az”

Azzi opened her mouth, eyes still closed “No, it just—it feels good”

Paige rolled her hips forward, pushing the strap deeper into Azzi. Paige bottomed out, groaning as the base of her strap rubbed against her swollen clit. Azzi let out a wrecked moan, hips jutting up to meet Paige’s.

Paige let her thumb brush down Azzi’s face once more.

“still feel good?”

“mhm” Azzi’s lips pressed together into a fine line, trying her hardest to keep herself quiet.

Paige pulled her hips back, letting the strap drag back out of her slowly. She watched as Azzi’s mouth fell open into a silent scream, letting out a sharp exhale, fingers still locked in the sheets.

“I won’t know if I don’t hear you baby” She rolled her hips again, thrusting back into Azzi. She groaned again at the sight of it—the way she swallowed her whole.

And then Azzi moaned. Low. primal. unrestrained. Her head was thrown back, dark curls falling into her face and down onto the mattress beneath her, framing the smooth slopes of her face.

“That’s it baby—“ Paige groaned, letting her hands shift from Azzi’s jaw down to her throat. Her fingers applied just enough pressure to make Azzi groan.

Paige let her own head fall back as she thrusted into Azzi once more, a move that was met with another guttural moan.

“You sound so fucking pretty Az” Paige hummed between sharp breaths, “Taking me so good”

Azzi’s eyes were still shut, but her mouth was wide open, babbling nonsense between moans as Paige slowly built a steady rhythm.

Azzi was starting to settle in. Her face had relaxed—as much as it could in this situation— and her hips bucked eagerly to meet Paige's every thrust, trying her hardest to push her pace.

Paige stared down at her, same fucked out grin on her face.

“more?”

Azzi nodded furiously under her.

“look at me,” Paige murmured, low and breathy, punctuated with a slow thrust, “look at me and say it.”

Azzi eyes slowly pried open. She stared up at Paige, pupils blown—all big and glassy—tears threatening to fall from the corners of her eyes. A look like that could make her listen to anything that came out of her mouth.

“I want more”

Her hand pressed harder onto Azzi’s neck, and she rolled her hips in a deep, slow drag that made Azzi shudder. Paige moaned, low and drawn out, like she could really feel Azzi’s every move on the strap and was savoring every second of it.

She sped up, hips meeting Azzi’s at a torturous pace. Azzi writhed under her, Paige could already feel her thighs starting to twitch.

“Paige-“ The name fell from her mouth in a drawn out moan as she reached out for any part of Paige that she could grab. She settled on the hem of Paige’s shirt, pulling it so hard she could’ve sworn it was about to rip.

“you already tapping out?” Paige dragged her hand from her neck, gliding it down the fabric of her jersey she stopped at the hem and slowly slid it up so it settled at her waist. The number 5 was still stitched firmly across her chest.

Azzi opened her mouth to reply, but quickly shut it as Paige thrust into her once more, slow and slick and deliciously filthy.

Paige pulled back and slammed back into her again, and Azzi let out a muffled cry. Paige just stared down at her, trying to hide the fact that she was already close, just from the sight of her.

“I said I wanna hear you baby,” She let one of her hands wander, sliding up her abdomen until it found the swell of her breast. “Wanna hear what I’m doing to you” She let her thumb glide over Azzi’s nipple and she squirmed under her.

“fuck—I’m close” Azzi moaned.

Her thighs were trembling hard, and her body was starting to tense around her. She kept up her rhythm, thrusting in and out of Azzi at an impossible pace. Azzi’s moans filled the room, and slick was starting to coat the inside of her thighs.

“Yeah?” Paige’s voice was barely more than a breath “so quick?”

Azzi couldn't respond. Just screamed Paige's name like it was the only word she knew. Her head tipped back as she came, loud, unbridled, and unbelievably hot. She looked wrecked, clenching around the strap, sweat glistening across her skin, and Paige's jersey still clinging to her frame.

Paige stilled and let her ride it out. Gave her a short break to catch her breath.

“Think you can give me one more?”

Azzi’s eyes found Paiges, still glossy and a little dazed from her orgasm.

”Paige, I can’t—“ She gasped, still out of breath.

Paige pulled out, slowly, and watched Azzi’s face drop as she groaned

”I think you owe it too me Azzi” She murmured, voice like syrup, “I still haven't seen my name on your back”

Paige’s hands found the hem of her own shirt, which she lifted over her head. That left her in her sports bra, abs completely exposed. She flexed them with intention as she lowered her hands, dropping her shirt on the floor.

Azzi’s breath hitched. She’d hit a weak spot.

Paige slowly lifted herself up onto the bed, settling somewhere in the center of it. She let her head settle on one of the pillows and stared down at Azzi expectantly.

“fuck” Azzi whispered under her breath, “I hate you”

Paige smirked, lacing her fingers together and resting them on the top of her head.

“You love how I make you feel though”

Azzi rolled over, pulling herself up so she was on her hands and knees on the foot of the bed. Slowly, she crawled towards Paige until she was hovering over her, arms and legs framing her body. She lowered herself so Paige could feel the slick of her pussy on her core. Azzi slowly rolled her hips into Paige as she slid herself up her core so she could see her face to face.

Paige groaned. She could feel the trail of slick she left behind as she went. She was throbbing. Needed friction. Needed anything.

Azzi captured her lips in a kiss, but Paige pulled back. Azzi let a small frustrated groan fall from her lips.

“Turn around” She watched as Azzi leaned in to kiss her again and she reached out to stop her, “Azzi, turn around. I want you to ride it”

Azzi’s eyes went a little wide. She shifted, moving so that her back was facing Paige. She hovered over the strap, thighs tensing to hold herself up. And then she slowly lowered herself down, moaning as she went.

Paige groaned, low and breathy at the sight. She could feel the pressure from the base of her strap on her clit as she lowered herself. It was exactly what she had needed all night. She chased the feeling, let her hips roll up into Azzi, moaning as she went.

”you feel so fuckin’ good ma” she moaned, “look so pretty up there”

Azzi’s head tipped back, mouth open into a breathy moan. Her curls spilled over her shoulders and down to her upper back. Paige immediately reached out to try to move them to the side.

”Az, wanna see my name on you” whined Paige, trying to force the curls back up over her shoulders.

Azzi groaned and let her head lean forwards, uncovering the jersey.

Slowly, she rose from the strap again, lowering herself down again with a low moan. Paige was dripping. The sound, the sight, the pressure—it was all too much in the best way. She moaned as Azzi continued to bounce up and down on the strap, hands reaching out for any part of Azzi she could grab. She settled on her hips, palms ghosting over the soft skin, guiding her as she continued to fuck herself on the strap.

Azzi grinded down into Paige at the bottom of each thrust.

“fuck—feel’s so good Az” Paige moaned, “So fuckin’ good”

Those were about the only words she could manage to get out. Paige's thighs were starting to twitch, and she could feel the buildup of heat in her core. Azzi was getting there too. Her moans had become more desperate, her thighs were starting to shake, and it seemed like the only words she could remember were “Paige” and “yes”.

If Azzi went, she would go with her. She was so close. She just needed a push.

“you look so perfect with my name on your back” groaned Paige, hands grasping Azzi’s hips tighter as she lowered herself on the strap again. Azzi moaned, loud and unashamed.

The only words Azzi could manage was a breathy “m’ close”

Paige nodded, holding back a moan as the base of the strap caught her clit just right.

”m’right here with you” groaned Paige, “wanna here you come f’me”

Azzi broke, and Paige was quick to follow. She came hard, thighs twitching madly as she tried to keep fucking herself through it. She was loud, moaning and whimpering Paige’s name as she fell apart on top of her. That was enough for Paige to fall apart with her.

The heat in her stomach exploded, ripping through her in waves that left her breathless. She wasn’t sure what she said, but she was loud—babbling nonsense as her and Azzi rode out their highs.

Soon, moans were replaced by shallow breaths. Paige wasn’t sure when Azzi had stilled. She only noticed she had when she finally moved again, pulling herself up off of the strap. Paige squirmed under her, still sensitive.

Azzi flopped down next to her, limp and utterly wrecked.

Paige watched for a moment, still processing if any of that was even real. Then, she stood, heading towards her suitcase.

“paigey” Azzi’s small voice drifted across the room, whiney and drawn out.

”hm?” Hummed Paige, digging through her suitcase.

”come back,” Azzi groaned, rolling over to face her.

Paige smiled, soft and stupid and just for her. She grabbed a new pair of boxers and a baggy T-shirt and changed into them. she grabbed another pair of boxers for Azzi, picking up her sweatshirt from the floor on her way back to the bed.

“Clothes if you wanna change,” Paige dropped the clothes at the foot of the bed, “need anything else?”

Azzi let out a weak chuckle, rolled onto her back and stretched her arms above her head, ”I need a minute”

***

Azzi lay on Paige’s chest, head bobbing with the slow rise and fall of her breath. It felt like she’d just worked out, knees weak, thighs sore, and in desperate need of some hydration. She was really just exhausted overall.

Just as she felt like she was about to drift off to sleep, her phone buzzed from the nightstand. Paige remained still beneath her. Slowly, Azzi looked up to find her eyes closed and face relaxed. She must’ve drifted off to sleep some time ago.

It was late. She had notifications from most apps silenced. This was probably important, or at least something worth reading.

Slowly, she reached across Paige for her phone, trying her hardest not to jostle her. She grabbed the phone and dragged it back so it was resting just in front of her face, squinting as the screen lit up through the darkness.

1 new notification: Snapchat

Georgia 🐶sent you a chat

Azzi opened it, a smile spreading across her face when she saw what it said.

Georgia 🐶

sorry, was out celebrating the dub with the team 👯‍♀️

just got home

DID IT WORK??

Azzi clicked on the camera icon, turned on the ring light and angled her phone so you could see her head resting on Paige’s chest, and Paige asleep behind her. She smirked, snapped a picture, and sent it.

Me

> delivered

like a fucking charm

I owe you bitch

Georgia's response was almost immediate.

Georgia 🐶

AAAAA

OMG YOU DIRTY GIRL 🫣🫣

GLAD I COULD HELP

Suddenly, Azzi felt a shift beneath her. A quiet snicker. She turned and found Paige, eyes heavy with sleep but definitely open, and definitely staring at the phone in her hand. Paige laughed when she met Azzi’s eyes, and Azzi flushed—bright, mystics red.

“Oh my god. Don’t laugh”

Paige reached for her phone and Azzi scrambled to keep a grip on it, ultimately losing to Paige’s firm hand. She buried her face into her side, trying her hardest to disappear from the room entirely.

“omg she slipped me the room key, just got to the hotel” Paige spoke like she was holding in a laugh as she read through the texts.

“You really plotted on this huh?” Her tone was dripping with amusement.

“No” Azzi’s voice was small.

”then why did Georgia reply ‘omg you go girl go get you some’” Paige looked up from the phone to Azzi, “seems like she knew something I didn’t”

Azzi was going to die of mortification—if not by suffocation from burying herself so deeply into the side of Paige.

She covered her face, laughing weakly to cover up the fact that she was a little horrified at her plot with Georgia being aired out at 2:13 in the morning.

She spoke up, words small and muffled from being uttered into Paige’s side, “It had been so long. I just wanted—uhg I hate you”

Paige laughed, placing her phone back down on her chest next to Azzi’s head. She moved her hand to Azzi’s back, rubbing slow circles into her spine.

“you wanted what?” Paige’s voice wasn’t teasing. It was soft, with a hint of genuine curiosity.

“I wanted you. This.” And then quieter, “I wanted to make sure you wouldn’t let me leave without, you know—“ Her voice trailed off as she tried her hardest to keep her eyes off of Paige.

Paige snickered, “You know you could’ve just asked—as much as I love this whole evil genius thing. I don’t think I could ever say no to you screaming my name” She flashed Azzi a sly smile

”PAIGE!” Azzi shoved herself away from her.

Paige looked down at her with a look of mock-confusion, “what? You did—a couple times actually—“

Azzi cut her off, voice still dripping with embarrassment, ”Please stop—“

Paige slid her hand from Azzi’s back to her shoulder, giving it a light squeeze, ”I will. but seriously, ask”

Azzi smiled softly, a slight flush creeping back into her cheeks, ”yeah, I probably should’ve. But this was more…fun?”

Paige chuckled, “Yeah. Yeah it was.”

“you liked it?” Azzi let her head fall back to Paige's chest.

Paige was silent for a moment—not because of the question itself, more at the audacity of Azzi asking it.

“Azzi. That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen you do. Like—I don’t think we can ever live up to this again.”

“Oh my god—“ Azzi brought her free hand up to her face, covering it.

Paige's hand found its way into Azzi’s hair, gently scratching her scalp.

”I’m serious—you’re gonna be living in that jersey from now on”

“Yeah?” Azzi murmured, eyes falling shut as Paige’s fingers continued to soothe her scalp

”mhm” Paige hummed, head falling back onto the pillow behind her.

A comforting silence stretched between them, filled only by the sound of their breathing slowing as they both started to drift off to sleep. Just as Azzi could’ve sworn Paige was back asleep, her voice cut through the quiet.

“Azzi?” Her voice was quiet, like she wasn’t sure if Azzi was still awake.

”hm?” Azzi hummed, shifting in closer next to her.

She heard Paige's lips curl into a smile.

“You can text her back and tell her I’m wearing 8 in my tunnel fit on tuesday”

[solarsturniolo]

Chris is me and Nick is my fav moots (matt is the other followers that have to be subjected to our interactions) (i’m sorry)

@endereies @evieolo @evie-sturns @mattscoquette @bernardsbendystraws @megamett44-lover @xtravrgnoliveoil @strnilolover @55sturn @mbbsgf @zebonos @luverboychris @chrisissobabygirl @lovesturni0l0s @worldlxvlys @heartsonlyforchris @pasteldreams @mattsmedusa

(i’m not back im just lurking because i still need smut to survive. but im so grateful to everyone that has been there for me while i’ve been dealing with all of my personal life events recently. It hasn’t been easy but you all have made it so much easier to navigate and handle and for that i am FOREVER grateful. specifically @strnilolover @55sturn @zebonos @chrisissobabygirl @evieolo and @endereies your support does not go unnoticed or unappreciated. thank you so so much for being there for me. thank you for giving me an outlet and a safe space to talk about everything. you all know the severity of everything i’ve been dealing with, and just having someone to listen and ease my anxiety has meant the absolute world to me. endless endless ENDLESS thanks to all of you. Thank you to all of my followers that have blown UP my inbox with loving and supportive messages, you don’t even understand how much it all means to me. I’m at a low point, but the kind encouraging words have shown me a light that i didn’t think i’d see for a long time. Although i’m not uploading updates at the moment, i’m still working hard so that when i do feel stable enough to fully be back, i’ll be able to post consistently for a while because you all deserve that. After the insane amount of support and love you all have given to my previous posts, it’s the least i can do for all 4,854 of you. I love you, every single one of you. I’m sorry i wasn’t able to tough it out like i normally can, but just know that Natalie will be back. That I can promise you. )

With love and kisses for each and every last one of you,

-Natalie 💋

[writing-the-stars]

Hiii! You’re fics are amazing i’m in awe of your writing & the tension that you build between characters💞

I was wondering whether you could write an Aaron Hotchner fic which maybe follows on from your most recent fic about him, where Aaron and reader have their first kiss. I feel like it would all be in the little moments, like him being so gentle & reader being so nervous 🥹🥹🥹

Unraveled, Unveiled

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Reader

Summary: After finally breaking through Aaron Hotchner’s walls, a quiet, undeniable tension begins to build between you— one that can no longer be ignored. What starts as an evening of uncertainty and vulnerability gradually unravels the emotional barriers between you both, leading to a deeper connection neither of you expected.

Warnings: Angst (But it's not that bad. They're just nervous and awkward), Fluff, No Use of Y/N or Physical Descriptors (Hotch does call reader beautiful though), Smooching. Let Me Know If I Forgot Something

Word Count: 4.3k

A/N: Hi Anon! I was so excited to see your message in my inbox!! Thank you for requesting this!! Honestly, so happy you all loved my previous fic so much and I am so appreciative of the support! This is a continuation of the previous fic, but can be read as a stand alone. Thank you all so much for reading! I hope you enjoy!! Have a wonderful day!

Masterlist | Criminal Minds Masterlist

There’s a familiar tension in the air of the bullpen—the kind that comes with working a case. This one, a series of abductions around McLean, Virginia, has a particular edge to it. While a local case makes it easier for the team to collaborate, it still never sits right when the danger is so close to home. 

A flurry of activity surrounds you—agents moving in and out, phones ringing intermittently, the steady clicking of keyboards and pens. Yet, despite all the motion, your attention is elsewhere.

You sit at your desk, eyes skimming through the case files in front of you. But you’re not really reading. You’d like to blame it on the exhaustion you’re experiencing from the long hours of work, but it is something else entirely— a subtle pull that keeps tugging at you, an energy that hums quietly beneath your skin.

Across the room, you find the source of your distraction, Aaron Hotchner, standing near the whiteboard. His posture is stiff with concentration as he discusses how the latest victim correlates with the other abductees. His usual commanding presence is softened tonight, more by the weariness of the case than anything else. But his jaw remains tight with that familiar, quiet intensity.

The air between you has shifted ever since that quiet night in his office—a soft electric current that pulses in the spaces between your words. It fuels the quiet moments, sitting in the presence of each other, silent exchanges unnoticed by your unwitting team. The stolen glances, charged with something deeper than the usual camaraderie you used to trade. The brief brush of his hand when he passes you by. It’s consuming, this energy growing between you, undeniable.

As if pulled by the same magnetic undercurrent, his eyes meet yours and your heart stutters caught in that spark. His gaze lingers, longer than it normally would, eyes skimming every part of you before quickly snapping his attention back to the board— your shared moment of connection ending just as quickly as it began. 

You lean back in your chair, case files momentarily forgotten as you let the cool air from the ventilation above wash over your face. Everything in the room feels louder now, sharper. Your heart squeezes at the thought of what’s to come. In the week that’s passed, things have been quieter. No grand gestures. No long talks about where things are going. You aren’t trying to rush anything. You know Aaron needs time, but you’d be lying if you said the burgeoning tension wasn’t about to make you snap. You long for a space with him where case files don’t matter, where the professional boundaries of the BAU are nothing more than an illusion. Somewhere far from the constant pressure of work—where you can just be.

Deciding you have spent far too much time ruminating over this, you sit up, ready to return to your case files, and are surprised to find Aaron’s eyes already on you. He doesn’t smile, doesn’t even seem to breathe for a moment, but there is a flicker of understanding there. A soft, unspoken promise. 

And then, the text. 

“How about I pick you up at 7:30 tonight? I’ll take you to dinner— just us. No cases.” 

The words are simple, but the implications hit you all at once. Aaron Hotchner wants to take you on a proper date. The realization makes you feel suddenly vulnerable. Nerves pulse through you, but you can’t help the flutter of excitement that curls in your gut. You’ve been waiting for this.

-*-

As 7:30 draws near, you find yourself standing in front of your hallway mirror, second-guessing every outfit you own. Is it too much? Too little? Will you seem too eager? Or too reserved? You want to look nice, but not like you tried too hard—something that says this didn’t take nearly as much effort as it actually did.

After your fourth change, you finally settle on a simple look: the outfit you wore to your cousin’s wedding a few years back. It’s one of your nicer outfits, but you can’t help the small seed of doubt that lingers. You’ve never worn anything like this in front of Aaron before. Usually, it’s sharp business attire, tailored suits, and the professional look you know best. But tonight? Tonight is special. You want your appearance to match the moment. 

There’s a knock at the door, and your stomach flips. It’s time— no more second-guessing. You take one last glance in the mirror, smoothing a hand over your hair, and open the door.

There he is. 

Aaron Hotchner stands in front of you, and for a moment, your breath catches. His usual impeccable suit has been swapped for a crisp button-down shirt, the sleeves rolled up just a touch, paired with well-tailored slacks. But it’s not the way he looks that steals your breath; it’s the way he’s looking at you. His gaze trails over you, not overtly calculating, but with something more subtle, more intense. There’s awe in his eyes, and for a moment, it’s as if he forgets how to breathe. His lips part slightly, like he’s about to speak, but the words get stuck in his throat.

The sight of you standing there, bathed in the soft light of your hallway, makes his heart stutter in a way he hadn’t anticipated. Your outfit is simple, but somehow, it accentuates everything that makes you... you. Aaron has always admired your professionalism, your sharp mind, and the way you carry yourself. But now, something else hits him— your grace. It’s as though he’s seeing you for the first time— not just as his colleague or close teammate, but as you. And he can’t help but think how stunning you look.

He swallows, forcing himself to regain his composure.

You feel your pulse begin to thrum, a nervous flutter you can’t quite control. You knew he’d be here, but seeing him now— seeing him look at you like this— is a shock to your system.

You swallow and break the silence. “Hi,” you manage, even though it feels like the most inadequate word you could say in this moment.

“You look…” he falters, his voice deeper than usual, a slight rasp. He clears his throat, but there’s no masking the way his gaze softens as he looks at you. “You look beautiful.”

The compliment is simple, but the way he says it— like everything else between you and him— feels loaded with meaning. The words settle into your chest, warm and comforting. No one’s ever made you feel seen quite like this. No one ever looks at you the way he does now, like you’re the only thing that matters in this space.

An uncontrollable smile stretches across your face, warmth pooling in your chest. You try to calm yourself. This is just Aaron. Just Hotch. You’ve worked together for years. You’re friends. But this? This is something different. And everything about tonight feels new.

“Thank you,” you reply shyly, wishing you could say more— something that could convey how much his words mean to you. But you’re not sure how to verbalize it, how to make sense of the nerves suddenly wreaking havoc on you.

He smiles, a small, genuine smile that makes your chest tighten. It’s a rare crack in his professional exterior. His gaze flickers down to your lips for just a moment, a quiet hesitation before he meets your eyes again. The silence stretches between you—almost too long—before he reaches for you with a gentle, almost hesitant gesture. His hand is steady, but you catch the slight tremble in his fingers.

“Shall we?” he asks, the words hanging in the air like a soft invitation, a gentle nudge into the unknown.

With a nod, you slide your hand into his and allow him to lead you to his car. Like a true gentleman, Hotch opens the car door for you, letting you slide inside before he closes it gently and moves to the driver’s seat.

You buckle your seatbelt, your hands trembling slightly as you adjust it, but it’s hard to focus on anything other than the way Aaron sits beside you. He starts the engine, the soft hum of it filling the car, but it’s as if neither of you knows what to say. The conversation between you, usually easy and casual, feels foreign now.

You glance at him— he’s focused on the road, his jaw set, his hands gripping the steering wheel, but there’s a tightness in his posture that wasn’t there before. You’re used to Aaron’s stoic, controlled demeanor, but now, there’s a slight edge to his movements, a quiet nervousness that surprises you.

For once, Aaron doesn’t feel like he’s in control. He doesn’t feel like the Unit Chief of the BAU or the calculating prosecutor he once was. He feels like a man standing on the precipice of something new— and he doesn’t know how to navigate it.

He didn’t expect this. Didn’t expect to feel so much. But this is just like him, always a step behind when it comes to his own emotions.

He steals a glance at you, only to find you already looking at him with that same wide-eyed gaze he has come to adore. A small smile tugs at the corner of his lips. He thinks back to that fateful day, the moment he feared he would lose you— that you would never look at him that way again. A frown tugs at his lips. His grip on the steering wheel tightens. He had come so close to watching one of his greatest fears come to life.  

You feel the drastic shift in Aaron’s demeanor, the subtle change as his tension takes on a darker form, something more than just nerves.

“You okay?” you ask softly, your voice barely above a whisper, but it’s enough to break the quiet bubble between you two.

He glances over at you briefly, his dark eyes catching yours for a moment, and there’s something unspoken in that brief exchange. His expression softens, and his hand— still on the wheel— flexes slightly before he answers.

“I’m fine,” his voice is calm, but there’s an underlying warmth in it now— something unguarded, vulnerable. “Just…” He hesitates, and you can almost see the wheels turning in his head as he tries to find the words. “Just glad to be here with you.”

You blink at the simplicity of his words. It should’ve been obvious, but you hadn’t expected him to be so open— so real— about it. You nod slowly, a smile tugging at your lips.

“I’m glad too,” you reply, and the words feel more truthful than they ever have before.

-*-

The restaurant is quiet, intimate—just the right place for a first date between two people who have spent more time working together than anything else. The low hum of conversation and the clinking of silverware fills the air, but in your small corner booth, it feels like the world has narrowed down to just the two of you. No team, no cases, no distractions. It feels like the first real moment where you can both breathe without the weight of the world on your shoulders.

Aaron is polite, professional, just like usual, but there’s still an edge to him that wasn’t there before. His movements are slightly more careful, his glances lingering just a little too long. It’s subtle, but you can feel it. The air between you feels thick with unspoken words, with things that haven’t yet been said— haven’t even been acknowledged.

An unexpected shyness swells up inside you. The weight of this moment finally settles over you. You had longed for a moment like this. A chance to be with Aaron in a more intimate setting, to step away from the roles you’ve both played for so long, to just be. The chemistry between you, the moments that lingered just a little too long, the small touches that didn’t feel quite so professional anymore— these things have been building to this exact moment. But now that it’s finally here, you’re terrified.

Not of Aaron. Not of the way he looks at you, but of yourself.

What if you ruin it? What if this is just a fleeting moment of warmth and compassion on his end? What if it’s an illusion that will vanish just as quickly as it appeared? And if it does— what will that do to you? To Aaron? To the team?

You realize just how fragile the balance you and Aaron have been maintaining is.

You reach for your napkin, fingers restless as you fiddle with the edges. You haven’t been on a date in years— not since college. Back then, everything seemed so simple. You were so carefree, your heart open and unafraid of the consequences. But now, everything is complicated. With all the history between you and Aaron, the stakes feel higher, the potential for things to go wrong just a little too real.

You shift in your seat feeling the awkwardness of the space between you. The tension between you both builds with every passing minute, the unspoken words sitting between you like a quiet invitation.

Clearing his throat, Aaron breaks the silence.

“Jack really enjoyed that recipe you gave me. Although I’m sure he’d much prefer it if you made it instead of me.”

You laugh, a genuine sound that has Aaron’s chest tightening in a way he isn’t ready to admit. There’s something about it— your laugh that feels more open, more real than the usual quick exchanges you share at work. You seem more... vulnerable tonight. Softer, in a way he wasn’t prepared for.

“Well, you earned Jack’s approval, so it sounds like your version is just as good,” you tease, but the smile you share with him falters for just a second. There’s a certain hesitance in your eyes, an unease that he can see you try to cover up.

But it’s there, unmistakable.

The silence falls again, this time a little heavier, a little more awkward. You take a sip of your wine, the cool liquid offering some comfort as you try to find your footing again. Aaron, ever the profiler, picks up on every shift in your body language. The tightening around your eyes, the slight tension in your shoulders, the way your gaze flits to his face before bouncing anywhere else. This is a reaction he didn’t expect. You’ve always been calm, collected, and self-assured. But tonight, you’re something else— he can sense the uncertainty beneath the surface.

Aaron had been so focused on his own nerves, on maintaining control. He never stopped to consider that you might be feeling just as uncertain as he is. It’s a humbling realization. 

“What are you thinking about?” The question comes out softer than he intended, like an invitation to share something more than just surface thoughts. You realize, in that moment, that Aaron is asking for something deeper than just a simple response. It surprises you, though it really shouldn’t.

You meet his gaze, and it pulls you in, making you feel like you can’t hide behind your usual calm demeanor. “Nothing really... just nervous,” you admit, a shy smile spreading across your face as your eyes flicker down to your wine glass before meeting his again. “I’ve never really done... this before.”

Aaron’s brow furrows at the confession, and for a split second, his mind scrambles to find the right response. “A date?” His voice is soft, unsure if he should push or give you space.

You chuckle, a little self-deprecating, like you’re embarrassed by your own admission. “Well, no. Not since college. It’s been a while,” you confess to him, your fingers absently tracing the rim of your glass.

The revelation hits Aaron with an unexpected weight. He hadn’t anticipated this— hadn’t considered that you might be just as vulnerable as he is in this moment. It stirs something protective within him, an instinct to shield you from the unease you’re clearly feeling, though he doesn’t quite know how to do that yet.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I was the one giving you nervous butterflies.” 

 There’s a playful edge to his voice, but it’s gentle—reassuring in its own way. He’s trying to lighten the mood, trying to ease the tension. He wants you to know it’s okay to be this nervous, that it’s okay for both of you to be feeling your way through this.

You laugh again, the sound more relaxed this time. It feels good to admit it, to share something so personal with him. Something that feels so... human.

“It's not you,” you clarify quickly, shaking your head with a soft smile. “It’s just... been a long time. And this is, well, different.”

Aaron leans in slightly, as if trying to understand the weight of your words. “Different how?” His voice drops, a hint of curiosity threading through the quiet.

You hesitate, searching for the right words. You weren’t expecting this kind of openness from him— this willingness to understand what’s remained unspoken. It makes something in your chest loosen. But you’re not sure how to articulate it. Not entirely. So you start slow, the words coming out haltingly.

“I don’t know,” you say finally, feeling the weight of it as it settles in your chest. “It’s just that... all these years, we’ve always been on the same team, right? Always professional, always focused on the job. And now...” you shrug, a little self-conscious, but there’s a warmth to your smile as your eyes meet his. “There’s a new dynamic here, and I’m not sure how to handle it.”

Aaron watches you for a moment, absorbing what you’ve said. He feels a slight shift inside him, a slow understanding of the weight of what you’re saying. You’ve never hesitated before, never seemed unsure. And now, here you are—open, fragile in a way he’s never seen. It makes something twist inside him, protective and tender in equal measure.

“I get that,” he says quietly, his voice low, steady, “I’ve been feeling it too.”He pauses, then adds with a half-smile, “Though I didn’t think you’d be the one who needed more time to adjust.”

That pulls a soft laugh from you, the tension easing from your shoulders. You shake your head in mock exasperation. “I didn’t realize you were so smooth. But now that I know you’re actually just as nervous as I am...” you raise an eyebrow, teasing him a little, the playful banter easing the air between you.

Aaron chuckles, his eyes warming in response, “Guess we’re both pretending to be less nervous than we really are.”

The way he says it, so openly, makes your heart settle a little. You take a small sip of your wine, considering your next words. “I didn’t think we’d ever get here,” you admit quietly, your voice soft, unsure. “I mean, I had let myself hope, but with everything that’s happened.”

Aaron’s expression softens, and there’s a quiet understanding in his eyes. “Yeah. I’ve thought about that too,” he murmurs, his jaw tightening just a fraction, as if the memories are sharper than he’s willing to admit. “We’ve both been through a lot. And I wasn’t sure what this... us could look like.”

The rawness of his words catches you off guard. There’s an honesty in them that feels almost like a relief. This isn’t just a date. It feels like a kind of truth that has been long overdue— something neither of you has ever fully addressed, but always carried.

“And now that we’re here,” you say softly, your voice tentative but sincere, “What do we do with it?”

Aaron exhales slowly, leaning back just slightly, his gaze flicking to the table before returning to you. There’s something different about the way he looks at you now, as if he’s no longer trying to figure out the next step, just... accepting it.

“I don’t know,” he admits, his voice steady but with a hint of vulnerability. “But maybe... maybe that’s the point. We don’t need to have it all figured out right now.”

The weight of his words lands between you  like a small relief, a shared surrender. The uncertainty, the not-knowing, doesn’t feel heavy anymore. It feels like a mutual acceptance, a quiet understanding that, for tonight, it’s enough to just be here. To let whatever happens next unfold without needing answers.

“I think I can live with that,” you murmur, smiling softly, your heart still beating a little faster than usual.

Aaron gives you a small smile, that familiar flicker of warmth in his eyes. The air between you both shifts again, this time more relaxed, less tense. There’s no more pressure, no need to define everything in this moment. Instead, it’s just the quiet promise of now, and maybe, just maybe, that’s all either of you needs.

The rest of dinner passes in a warm blur. The nervousness from earlier dissipating. You begin to feel more at ease, more sure of yourself in his presence. His presence has always had a grounding effect on you, but tonight is different. There’s no longer any distance. No professional separation. 

He listens intently when you talk, eyes never straying from your face. There’s something about the way he is so present with you— like he’s hanging on to every word, absorbing everything you give him. 

And when he laughs? When he smiles like he truly means it— it’s a rare thing. It makes your heart flutter. It’s the first time you’ve seen him so... unshielded. No armor. No walls. Just Aaron.

As he walks you back to your apartment door, you can’t stop thinking about him. About the way he looked at you all evening, like he was struggling to maintain control. But even through his efforts, you could see the way his gaze kept drifting over you, lingering just a bit longer when he thought you weren’t looking. There was something in it— something that made your heart flutter, a warmth spreading through you.

“I had a really great time tonight, Aaron,” you tell him once you reach your door, your voice soft but sincere.

Aaron smiles at that, his heart inexplicably light. “I did too.”

And then, his hand brushes yours, and suddenly you’re aware of how close you are. The contact is small, but it feels like everything. It sends a jolt through you, and your pulse quickens— nerves, anticipation, excitement all rushing through your veins.

You had wanted this. Wanted him. But now that you’re standing here, so close, it feels different. More real, more tangible than you ever expected. You’re afraid to move forward— afraid of what could come next.

And yet, in the silence, you don’t need to say anything. You feel it— an unspoken invitation in his eyes. The way he steps closer, ever so slightly, until there’s no more space between you. Aaron understands exactly what you want. 

“Can I…” he hesitates, his hand lifting slowly, then pausing for just a moment before it gently cups your cheek. His touch is so soft, so tender, like he’s waiting for permission. Like he’s afraid to rush this. You feel the warmth of his breath against your skin, the scent of his cologne— familiar and comforting— encapsulates you, making your pulse race. His chest rises and falls just as erratically as yours. 

You lean into his touch, your eyes fluttering closed, the warmth of his hand against your skin a silent promise.

The world seems to pause just before his lips touch yours, and for a breathless moment, you’re not sure if it’s the right decision. But then his lips are there— soft, gentle, asking without words, and you know it’s the only choice that matters.

It’s tentative, careful. He’s holding back, as though afraid you might break. But the tenderness of it only makes the ache inside you deepen. You’ve waited for this. Both of you have, in your own ways. And here, now, it’s finally real.

You kiss him back with all the softness you had been holding inside, feeling the months of longing, of unspoken desire, finally spilling out. It’s nothing like you had imagined. No fireworks. No grand, sweeping declarations. It’s tender. It’s soft. But it’s everything. It’s an unspoken conversation between the two of you. An acknowledgment of everything that’s been left unsaid, of the quiet trust between you. Of how, despite everything— despite his professional walls, despite the stakes of your job— he’s letting you in.

The way he holds you so carefully, like you’re something precious. The way his lips move against yours, as though asking for permission, as though he doesn’t want to take anything from you— just offer it.

His hand moves to your cheek, his thumb brushing the curve of your jaw, a touch so intimate, it feels like a promise. The kiss deepens just slightly, but there’s no rush. It’s everything you’ve wanted without either of you saying a word.

You pull away slowly, forehead resting against his absorbing the intimacy of the moment. 

“Wow,” you whisper, the words escaping before you can even think about them.

Aaron chuckles softly, a quiet sound that makes your heart flutter. “Yeah,” he agrees, his voice thick with emotion.

With a final, tender smile, he leans in to kiss your forehead, a gesture so intimate it almost feels like a promise. He steps back slowly, eyes holding yours as if making sure you know he’s leaving, but he’s not really leaving.

“Goodnight,” he says softly, voice hoarse.

“Goodnight, Aaron,” you smile, the dreaminess of the moment filling you up, still feeling the warmth of his kiss lingering on your skin.

As you close the door behind you, you lean back against it, your hand resting for a moment on the handle. Your heart is still racing. You hadn’t expected a kiss like that—gentle, sweet, full of promise. But as you sink back against the door, a soft, satisfied smile tugs at your lips.

It had been worth the wait.

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[atinylittlepain]

Crush On You

no outbreak!joel miller x fem!reader

Hungry Hearts masterlist

The summer of '86, a season of love, record-breaking heat, and evening softball games in one Austin neighborhood. What happens when seventeen years later, that lost love comes back around?

warnings | 18+ cursing, smut, young joel is a goddamn menace

wordcount | 9K

a/n | hi folks, i come bearing part two of my hungry hearts series. she's long, okay? i'm sorry, the spirit of young joel possessed me what can i say. hope y'all enjoy this one, come tell me what you think in my inbox! also much love, much thanks to my trenchcoat brother @northernbluess for beta-reading this baby - love you, cousin

.....................................

“Well, well, look who has graced us with her presence. How’d you scare her out of hiding, Miller?”

“Oh, you know, black mail, extortion, a cattle prod.” Her scowl is lost on the pair as Mikey Donahue pulls Joel into a hug that’s more of a gruff back slap than anything else before promptly putting a beer in his hand. Meanwhile, she’s already regretting her decision to come along, trying to temper her grimace when Mikey hooks his arm around her shoulders to crush her into his side, grinning big and boozy down at her.

“Good to see you, big city. College suits you.” She has to laugh, seeing as Mikey didn’t have the time of day for her in high school and now he seems to be all too intent on laying the charm on thick.

“Thanks, Mikey, that’s real, uh, kind of you.” Before Mikey can reply with what she’s sure would be an equally charming remark, Joel curls his fingers in the neck of his t-shirt to pry him away from her, steering him further into the house.

“Alright, Mike, don’t scare her off, I just got her in the door. C’mon, man, I was promised a keg stand here.” All she gets from Joel is one more glance over his shoulder before she has been left entirely alone in a sea of her old classmates, with quite literally no escape route, considering she drove here in Joel’s rusted-out pick-up truck. 

She fields a few polite hellos, trying her best to move through the house as unnoticed as possible to get to the backyard and away from the smell of sweat and socially anxious bodies. Mercifully, there’s only a few people outside, couples all tangled up and people smoking around the edge of the pool. She forgot Mikey Donahue had a pool, though she supposes his parents were always notorious for their money and how visible they made it. 

This wasn’t her scene in high school, and it certainly isn’t now. Honestly, she’s not sure why she agreed to go with Joel in the first place. Oh yeah, Lisa-Anne. She kind of wishes she let Lisa-Anne have this one. 

“Hey, big city, there you are!” Mikey again, this time with no Joel to wrangle him off and away from her. He really is the quintessential all-american boy, home from some expensive east coast school that she can’t remember the name of, the whole blonde and blue eye thing, floppy and smiley like a well-bred golden retriever. She isn’t quite sure where this sudden chumminess with her has come from, they certainly didn’t run in the same circles as teenagers. But there isn’t much room to ponder it when he has once again slung his arm around her, his face so close to hers that she can smell the pabst blue ribbon he probably just tossed back. 

“Remind me what you’re studying all the way up in Chicago?” She knows for a fact that drunk Mikey has a temper, like, punching holes in the walls of his parents’ basement temper, so she makes no move to push him away, though she’d really like nothing more right now, trying and failing to create even an inch more of distance between them. Mikey doesn’t like that, dropping his arm to sling low around her waist, his fingers brushing against the bare skin between her jean shorts and where the fabric of her t-shirt has rucked up. 

“I’m studying English.” It comes out smaller and quieter than she would like it to, her throat tightening with something like panic at Mikey’s continued advancements. On his part, Mikey seems to find the whole thing amusing, tossing his head back in a hard laugh.

“That’s right, always a little bookworm, weren’t you? Tell me this, what the hell can you even do with an English degree, big city?” 

“You can do a lot of things with an English degree, Mike.” She’s just pissed off enough to finally yank out of his grip, sending him stumbling a few feet back, though he’s quick to recover with a laugh that sounds a little less friendly. 

“I know it’s been a while since you’ve been home, big city, so I’m gonna do you a favor and pretend like that was just an accident.” 

“Hey, Mike, where’d you go, man?” She’s never been so happy to hear Joel’s voice in her life, she thinks, taking one more subtle step back as he sidles up next to Mikey and slings his arm around his shoulders. The light from inside the house casts shadows over Joel’s forearm where it’s draped against Mikey’s chest, and she can see the tendons jumping there from how hard he’s holding onto him, though it otherwise looks like a friendly embrace.

“Was just catching up with that one, Miller, so you can fuck right off, thanks.” And there it is. She feels herself wince with the bite of Mikey’s words, though Joel stays completely calm, a placid and altogether unsettling smile quirking up his mouth. 

“I think you’ve had enough to drink, man. Why don’t you leave the nice girl alone and go sleep it off before you do something you’re gonna regret?” She should probably do something other than stand there and stare at what is probably, definitely about to become a bad scene, a small crowd starting to form around them already. But she feels frozen where she stands, her eyes darting between Mikey’s sneer, and Joel’s ticking jaw. 

“And who’s gonna make me regret it, Miller, huh? You?” Because they are apparently still children, the crowd of people let out a low chorus of ooooh at that. And then for a moment it’s perfectly silent and perfectly still, Joel and Mikey staring each other down in a strange, half-way thing between an embrace and a strangle-hold. But by the time she blinks again, the both of them have swung, Mikey missing and Joel making clipped contact with the side of Mikey’s jaw. It’s just enough to send Mikey stumbling back and over the edge of the pool, and because he’s still got a fist clenched in Joel’s shirt, he gets yanked in after him. 

The crowd is quick to disperse after such a disappointing climax to their little spat, and while Mikey hauls himself out of the pool on the other side like a drowned cat, she finds herself offering out her hand to an equally sodden Joel. He drips all over her sneakers when he gets out, his flannel clinging to his torso, damp and darkened, something she tries not to pay too much attention to. 

“You okay?” 

“I’m not the one who just fell into a pool.” He drags a hand through his hair to get it slicked back out of his face, water still dripping off the tip of his nose as he looks at her. For a moment, she thinks that he looks small, a slight shiver in his shoulders, his eyes wide and his lashes all stuck together. He looks young, and he’s looking at her and only her. 

“I’m fine, Cher, let’s get out of here, huh? This party is dead anyways.” With a quick shake back of his shoulders and a thumb swiped under his nose, that familiar front has already slipped back into place. But she’s fine with it if it means they’re going to get out of this place, letting Joel lead the barreling way back through the house, his sneakers squeaking and squelching with every step. And even though he looks ridiculous, dripping all over the hardwood floors of Mikey’s parents’ house, he keeps his chin tilted up like he owns the place and his shoulders squared off as broad as his leanness will allow, easily parting a path for them through the crowd and out onto the front lawn. 

Neither of them speak when they get into the car, leaving the radio off as the engine splutters to life and they start winding their way back out of the wealthy neighborhood. She wants to say something, to thank him, to ask him if he’s sure that he’s okay, but she can’t find the right words, twisting her hands in her lap and watching the way the truck’s headlights spill out over the road. 

“So you’re really going for it out in Chicago?” His voice breaking the silence startles her out of her simmering mind, and when she glances over at him, he only offers her a quick side sweep of his eyes before he focuses back on the road. 

“You said you’re studying English?” He heard that? How long was he watching her and Mikey?

“Oh, um, yeah, yes.” She keeps her focus on the knuckles of his hand draped over the top of the steering wheel, a subtle tension and flexion to his grip.

“Gonna be a big shot writer, right? That was always your dream, wasn’t it?”

“When I was a kid, yeah. I don’t know, I’ll probably end up teaching, though I think my parents expect me to just wind up married and pregnant by the end of it anyways.” He snorts at that, shaking his head though he keeps his eyes on the road. 

“You were always writing stories, Cherry.”

“Uh-huh.” Honestly, she’s surprised he held onto that fact, the ratty composition books she carried around everywhere as a child, and well into her teens too. 

“Ever write one about me?” 

“Oh, sure.” 

“Wait, really?” His eyes finally dart over to her, eyebrows shot up his forehead and she has to bite back a laugh.

“Yeah, it was about your astonishing humility and non-existent ego.” She can barely get it out with a straight face, already dissolving into another laugh as Joel rolls his eyes at her dig. 

“Alright, alright, guess I walked into that one.” They’ve just pulled up in front of her house, Joel flicking off the headlights so her parents don’t notice. For once, she’s in no hurry to get away from him, an honestly foreign feeling as they sit in his truck. He’s still soaking wet, his hair starting to stick up every which way from how it’s drying, though he seems perfectly content to keep staring at her, something like a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth. 

“You don’t like being home very much, do you, Cherry?” 

“I really don’t, no.” She says it on a long sigh, no idea why she’s inclined to be honest with him like that. 

“How come?” 

“I feel like no one takes me seriously down here.” 

“I do.”

“Joel.”

“What? I do.”

“How can that possibly be true when you still call me a name that came from me snorting soda out of my nose?” 

“Okay, maybe originally it came from that, but that’s not why I call you it now, not really.”

“Please enlighten me then, why do you call me that?” His brow furrows for a moment, like he’s choosing his words carefully, opening and closing his mouth a few times before he finally answers.

“Because– because I just do, okay? But I do take you seriously, for the record.” She leans her head back on the seatrest, tilting her chin to look at him where he has his arm hanging over the steering wheel, his full body leaning and twisting toward her.

“Yeah?”

“Uh-huh, and I’m gonna want a signed copy of your first book.”

“Oh please.”

“I’m dead serious, Cher. I probably won’t read it, but I reckon it’ll be worth something when you get all famous and shit.”

“Lovely, Joel, thanks so much for that.” He shrugs, though his gaze stays steady with hers, and it happens again, that softening around the edges, that kid she remembers. And again, it’s gone in a flash, Joel suddenly leaning toward her in an unexpected way. And, well, she reacts before she can really think.

“Jesus! What the fuck, Cher?” He has bodily recoiled from her back into the driver’s side, his palm cupping his cheek where she just landed a hard smack with the flat of her hand. 

“Me what the fuck? You what the fuck? What the hell was that, Joel?”

“I don’t– I thought we were having a– a nice moment!” She goes to open the passenger side door, but Joel is quick to reach over and shut it again like a petulant child, eliciting a bitter laugh from her.

“We were until you pulled that shit. I’m not one of your little housewives that you can do whatever you want with.” This time, he doesn’t try to stop her when she clambers out of the truck, though he isn’t quite finished yet. 

“Oh c’mon, Cherry! This ain’t playing fair!” She quickly shushes him before he starts to wake up half the neighborhood with his exclamations, only staying close enough to the car so she can whisper yell back at him.

“I’m not playing, Joel. Do me a favor and just stay away from me, why don’t you?”

…

While Sarah may not be the strongest batter, which is okay because Joel is working with her on it most afternoons, she makes for a mean third baseman, though part of him secretly wishes she played shortstop more often. And though he’s usually busy shouting reminders and tips at her from the bleachers, Joel is a bit preoccupied today watching something else, or someone else is more like it. 

He’s never been so pissed at chain link fencing in his life for obscuring his view of her, standing in front of the bleachers with her arms crossed and her hip cocked out as she watches the game from behind sunglasses and a ball cap. But he’s also never been more grateful for the Austin swelter because it means that she’s in a tank top and jean shorts, and he’s pretty sure his mind is starting to short-circuit because it looks to him like Cherry picked up some tattoos in the last seventeen years. He can’t tell what they are from this distance, something wrapped over her right shoulder and down her bicep, and, fuck him, something on the top of her right thigh. So maybe he’s craning his neck a little to try to make out what the ink is, and maybe he should be paying more attention to the game, because when there’s suddenly some sort of scuffle on the field between the umpire and one of Sarah’s coaches, he has no clue what he missed. 

“That was an out, are you kidding me? She tagged her!” He’s sitting close enough to third that he’s pretty sure it’s Ellie, at least he thinks that was her name, who the umpire and the coach are arguing over whether Sarah got her out or not before she stepped on third. Yeah, definitely Ellie, because here comes Cherry from the bleachers on the other side. 

“Her foot was on the base when she tagged her, that wasn’t an out!” The umpire looks at Cherry with an amount of exasperation that tells Joel they’ve interacted before. Cherry, meanwhile, has her cap off and her sunglasses slanted down her nose to look at the ump with all the kindness of a parole officer.

“Ma’am please let us handle this and return to the bleachers.” He’s not sure why he decides to get involved, it’s not like he actually saw what happened. But the combination of it being Sarah who either did or didn’t get Ellie out and his own small desire to get a little closer to Cherry, regardless of the context, has him up off the bleachers and hooking his fingers through the chain link fence. 

“I’m pretty sure it was an out, I had a better view of it than you did, Cher.” Judging by the way she scoffs and shakes her head, he probably shouldn’t have called her that, though there isn’t much time to ponder that when she’s walking over to him and getting as up in his face as she can with the thin mesh of chain link separating them. 

“Don’t Cher me, Joel.”

“Mom, please, it’s fine, I’m pretty sure she got me before I tagged up.” Ellie and Sarah both look pretty ready for this situation to be over, huffing and rolling their eyes at their parents’ strange display. 

“Els, you are not out, okay? You’re gonna stay on third and the game is gonna get going again–”

“Always were a sore loser.” It just slips out, and it isn’t even true. He was the sore loser, and he knows it, and judging by the way Cherry whips back around to glare at him, he has just incurred her admittedly deserved wrath. 

“Oh, that is real rich coming from you, Joel Miller, you are–”

“Alright, folks, we don’t have time for this and I’m going to have to ask you both to wait in the parking lot while we finish this game.”

“What?” They say it at nearly the same time to the umpire, who just shakes his head at them and points toward the parking lot next to the ball field. 

“Both of you, out of here, or I’m going to disqualify both of your girls from playing.” Well, really no arguing with that, especially not when Sarah and Ellie are giving them both pleading looks from behind the umpire. Cherry doesn’t give him another look, simply mutters an apology to the umpire before heading off toward the parking lot. And all he can do is sheepishly follow behind her with his own apology and a gruff play well offered to Sarah who just rolls her eyes at him.

No, not exactly what he had in mind for their second meeting.

He probably shouldn’t, but since he already seems to be playing the fool, he figures he doesn’t have much to lose in approaching her where she’s sitting in the popped-open trunk of her minivan, her sunglasses pushed up to the crown of her head and her legs swinging idly over the lip of the trunk. 

“I’m, uh, sorry about all that.” Her eyebrows raise, a weary look that makes something hot and slippery curl in his gut, a little bashful under her gaze. 

“I am too, I guess. They probably shouldn’t let us on the field together, huh?” Her words crack a bit dryly with the curl of her smile, instant relief washing over him in mirroring her expression. 

“No, I reckon not.” She doesn’t say anything more, just scoots her hips to one side and pats the space next to her, an invitation he tries not to seem so eager to take as he sits down beside her. Close enough now that he can get a better look at the tattoo on her arm and her thigh. Something beating hard in his chest and tightening up his throat when he realizes that it’s a bouquet of chrysanthemums etched into her thigh. And on her arm, spiraling over her bicep and across her shoulder is a branch of a cherry tree.

…

There’s no other option on a Sunday. She wishes more than anything that there was, but she knows that everywhere else is closed. 

“Thatcher’s auto and towing, how can I help you?” She hasn’t spoken to him in two weeks, not since that night they went to Mikey Donahue’s party. She even started picking Will up herself for dinner to avoid having him anywhere near her, pointedly ignoring the his shouts of her name from the ball field whenever she does. So hearing his voice gives her pause, and she nearly hangs the payphone back up, but she really has no other option right now.

“Uh, hi, my car broke down and I need to get it towed.”

“Cherry?” 

“Um, yes?” There’s a long pause on the other end, though she’s pretty sure she can hear him let out a deep sigh. 

“Shit, okay, where are you?”

“I’m out by the new mall, um, I think right off of eighth street? I don’t know what’s wrong with it, honestly it just sort of– gave out on me.” 

“Alright, I’ll be there in five, just stay right where you are.” 

“Well, I can’t exactly go anywhere else, Joel.” She can hear the sound of something metal clanging around in the background, followed by Joel letting out a low curse.

“Right, yeah, just hang tight.” With that, he hangs up with a quiet click, and all that’s left to do is walk the two blocks back to her car. Technically, it’s her mom’s car, her old station wagon that had been given to her as a graduation gift, dark green with wood paneling and a dent in the back bumper that she has somehow managed to hide from both of her parents for a year now. She gives the car another once over, definitely nothing wrong with her tires, and she’s not even going to pretend like she’d know what’s going on under the hood, so she settles against the side of the car door and bides her time watching the slow trickle of traffic pass by.

It’s the middle of the afternoon, another record-breaking day of heat, she’s pretty sure. At least it feels that way, her eyes set in a perpetual squint under the hard beat of the sun as she swipes at the sweat on her forehead with the back of her wrist. Though mercifully she’s not waiting for long when a truck with the Thatcher’s Auto logo on the side comes pulling up alongside where she had managed to park her car on the shoulder of the road. He hops out of the truck, dressed in a pair of coveralls with the sleeves tied around his waist, a white wife beater on top that’s smeared with grease stains, and she has to remind herself that she’s still pissed at him when his dimple pops with a sheepish smile as he approaches her, tugging the baseball cap off his head to run a hand through his hair before settling his hat on backwards.

“Hey, Cherry, um, how– how have you been?” 

“I’ve been better, Joel, considering that my car won’t even start.” Nope, she’s not going to give him anything else, setting her jaw in a hard line and jerking her chin back over her shoulder as if to say get on with it. Joel seems to take the hint, giving her a jerky nod before taking a quick look around her car. 

“Well, your tires look fine. Lemme pop the hood and see if it’s anything obvious.” She hopes more than anything that it is something obvious, that she isn’t going to have to drive back to the shop with him, but judging by the way Joel lets the hood close with a shake of his head, she doesn’t think she has gotten so lucky. 

“I don’t know, Cher, I think you’re gonna have to come back to the shop with me so I can take a closer look.” She pinches the bridge of her nose, trying to hold back a frustrated groan before she finally looks at Joel again. 

“Okay, fine, and how long is that gonna take, do you think?”

“Got a few other cars I have to take care of first, but it shouldn’t be too long. You okay to wait at the shop?”

“I don’t think I have much of a choice, so yeah.” She waits in the cab of the truck while Joel hitches her car up, keeping her eyes flicked down and out of the passenger window when he gets back in. 

“You giving me the silent treatment?”

“No, I just don’t have anything to say to you.” She doesn’t look at him as she says it, but she can hear the huff of a sigh he lets out before he cranks the truck into drive. He doesn’t try to talk to her for the rest of the drive, and she keeps her arms crossed pointedly in front of her chest, her whole body angled toward the passenger-side door. However, when they pull into the garage at Thatcher’s and she tries to get out, the lock on her door promptly clicks down and the handle won’t budge. 

“Can we just talk for a second, Cher?” She pries the lock back open, but just as soon as she does, Joel clicks it back into place, forcing her to finally glare at him. His brow is furrowed and his knee is bouncing in his seat, and if she didn’t know any better, she’d guess that he’s nervous. 

“Fine, what is so important that you have to lock me into your truck like a goddamn serial killer?”

“Wouldn’t have had to if you weren’t being so goddamn stubborn to begin with.” She lets out a clipped bark of laughter at that, once again pulling the lock up on her own to try to get out, and once again, like a deranged comedy act, he clicks it back into place before she can even get her fingers around the handle. 

“Joel Miller, I swear to God, if you don’t let me out of this car right now I’m going to scream.”

“I just– just– fuck, Cherry, I’m sorry, okay? I wanted to say that I’m sorry.” That gives her pause. There have been only two other times in her life that Joel has apologized to her. The first time was when they were eight years old, and really, she thinks, it shouldn’t count because his mom forced him to, her hand between his small shoulder blades nudging him forward to say sorry for pulling on her braid from the pew behind her at church and making her cry. 

The second time, they were ten. That one does count. She was sitting on the swings at the playground down the street, scribbling in her notebook when a little crew of boys in the grade above her came out of nowhere and started heckling her. Joel showed up on his bike as she was picking up the tattered pages and scraps of what had been the story she was working on in her notebook. She remembers that she was trying really hard not to cry in front of him when he knelt down beside her to help her gather the torn pieces, small hands trying to make it right. He had nothing to be sorry for, but he still said that he was real sorry, Cher, quiet, and sounding much older and wearier than a ten-year-old should. That one counts. But otherwise, those words coming out of his mouth have been non-existent, so she can’t help but fall silent to hear just what he has to say. 

“You’re sorry?” He takes off his cap again, setting it down on the dash of the truck and dragging his hand back through his hair, very clearly having to work himself up to saying it again when he finally looks at her.

“Yeah, I’m sorry about what happened after Mikey’s party. I just– I thought that you–”

“Thought that I what? Did you really think I was going to be that easy, Joel?”

“What? No, if you would just let me finish speaking for Christ’s sake, I know that’s kind of difficult for you and your big mouth–”

“Wow, Joel, you really know how to apologize to a girl, huh?” With that, he slams the heel of his hand against the steering wheel, letting out a sharp curse that makes any other smart remarks fizzle out in her throat. 

“You know what, Cher? Just forget it. You can go wait in the office and I’ll have your car ready for you as soon as I can.” He finally unlocks the car door, and she’s more than happy to get out and slam it behind her.

“Fine.”

“Yeah, fine.”

…

“So is your wife not a fan of softball?”

“My what?” 

“Your wife, does she not like coming to games?” All he can do is laugh for a moment, pure disbelief at her question, and when he finally looks at her again, her brow still furrowed in confusion, he shakes his head with a huff.

“Is that like a funny question or something?” Just a little snap of annoyance behind her words, though he’s quick to respond, holding out his left hand in between them, his decidedly ringless left hand. 

“A little bit considering there is no wife.” It’s the middle of the fourth inning from what he can tell, still plenty of time for them to be not allowed on the field, sitting in the back of Cherry’s car. 

“Oh, but– was there one? I mean, Sarah’s mom?” 

“Uh, no, she’s not in the picture, at all.”

“I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be. But, uh, what about you? I mean– is Ellie’s– is your, uh–” She cuts off his floundering with a nudge of her shoulder against his, a tight smile on her lips.

“Not in the picture.”

“At all?”

“Never, doesn’t even know Ellie exists.”

“Shit, Cher, that had to have been hard.” She laughs, a clipped sound in the back of her throat as she slides her sunglasses back down onto her nose, keeping her gaze out on the field in front of them. He quickly does the math in his head, pretty sure that Ellie and Sarah are the same age, something heavy and hot settling in his chest when he realizes that she would have only been twenty-two when she had her daughter, just like him. It’s an aching fact, one that his mind starts to swim with, though her voice pulls him out of it quickly.

“It definitely wasn’t easy, but I’d like to think I’ve done alright.”

“I’ll say, it seems like every year there’s a new book of yours in the news for being a bestseller.” She turns to look at him at that, her eyebrows raised and her lips parted before settling into a slight smile.

“Have you read any of them?” 

“I didn’t think you’d want me to.” His answer seems to stop her, her face falling behind the darkness of her sunglasses, though she’s quick to catch herself with a breathy humph before turning her eyes back on the field in the distance. He wishes he could tuck those words back in his throat, try that again if only to keep her eyes on him. 

“Are your folks still in town?”

“Oh yeah, dinner every Sunday with them still.” She hums, a light sound that curls with her smile, though she still doesn’t look at him. 

“That must be nice.”

“I think ma would throw a parade if she knew you were back in town.”

“Oh please.”

“I’m dead serious, Cher.” There, she looks at him again, her smile turning crooked as she nudges her shoulder against his, an easy moment that still makes his heart kick up in his chest. 

“And Tommy’s still around? Miller’s Construction, right?” He must have a funny look on his face when she says that because she laughs again, something warm and flushed creeping into her cheeks that makes his mind go a little fritzed. 

“I promise I’m not stalking you, I was just looking for someone to come fix some stuff at the new house. Sounds like you two have done well for yourselves.” His mind still hasn’t caught up, still such a strange feeling to have her here in the present, talking about these things in the present, all these normal, very grown up things. 

“Uh, yes, yeah, we do alright. Tommy is still a fucking nuisance, but it’s good work. What’re you looking to get done?” 

“I think my back porch is all rotted out, nearly put my foot through a plank the other day. Do you have any idea how much it would cost to redo the whole thing?” 

“I’d have to come take a look, but I could redo it for you, no problem.” He has already decided how much it will cost. Nothing, not for her, though he knows if he told her that now she’d scoff and get someone else to do it who would accept payment. He’ll save that fact for after it’s finished. 

“Alright, is there a number I can call to schedule an appointment?” Oh, oh, he’s not stupid enough to let this opportunity pass him by.

“Why don’t I, uh, give you my number? It’ll be easier that way.” He knows she knows what he’s doing, her lips pursing for a moment as if to consider it, but she still slides her phone out of her back pocket and hands it over to him. He has to think really hard about what his phone number is, typing it in with a small tremor in his hand that only gets worse when he gives her phone back to her with a barely there brush of their fingers. 

“Can I ask you something?”

“Maybe, what’s the question?” 

“Why’d you come back? I don’t know where you’ve been, Cher, but I can tell you that I never expected you to come back here.” Shit, he shouldn’t have asked that, because she’s not looking at him again, her chin tucking down as her mouth settles in a thin grimace.

“Honestly? I don’t know. We were in Chicago for the longest time, and then New York while I was working on my last two books. And it was great while it was great, you know? But it was just too much after a while, too much for Ellie, and too much for me.” He ducks his head down, trying to catch her gaze now that her sunglasses are pushed back up into her hair.

“So you made it to New York, huh?” That gets him a grin, her eyes crinkling up under her lashes at him.

“Yeah, the big leagues and all that shit.”

“How was it?”

“Lonely. I think I would have lost my mind if I didn’t have Ellie.” His heart twinges and then swells in his chest because he hates to hear that, and is also relieved to hear that, and then he hates himself for being relieved to hear that. That there wasn’t anyone else. 

“For what it’s worth, Cherry, I’m real glad to see you back here again.” No, that didn’t come out quite right, and he has to stop himself from physically wincing when she gives him a furrowed look in response. 

“I find that a little hard to believe, Joel.”

“Why?”

“Well, we didn’t exactly part on the best of terms, did we?” He feels a long sigh leave his lungs, and she’s already hopping out of the trunk and brushing her hands down the front of her shorts as if to shake the conversation off.

“I am sorry, Cher, I–”

“Don’t, Joel. Don’t do that.” She shakes her head hard at him, eyes fierce for a moment before she slips her sunglasses back into place. 

“Well I am.” 

“Well I don’t want you to be. There’s no need for it when that was such a long time ago.” He wants to say something else, anything, but the tightness in his throat keeps the words stuck and simmering somewhere in his chest. She doesn’t look at him again, murmuring something about the game ending and wanting to help Ellie pack up, and all he can do is dumbly agree, shutting the trunk of her car and walking back toward the field a few paces behind her. Always a few paces behind her, it seems. 

…

Joel was full of shit. Something about fixing her car as soon as he could, something about it not taking too long. Yeah, bullshit. She has been sitting in the front office of the auto shop for the last three hours, trying and failing to get some writing done in her notebook amidst the seemingly ceaseless sounds of whirring drills, clanking and crashing metal, and the men in the garage cursing and carrying on amongst themselves. Though some of the sound has died down now that it’s just Joel working, the other men all clocking out at five o’clock. Meanwhile, he hasn’t even gotten to her car yet.

Everytime she glances into the garage, his legs are still sticking out from under a cream-colored mustang. When he does finally pop out from underneath the car, her hopes of getting out of the place soon are quickly dashed as someone pulls up to the gas pumps out front. She knows that car, a convertible in an obnoxious shade of turquoise that could only mean Maureen Henderson. Her daddy got her that car for her sixteenth birthday and she never stopped thinking she was hot shit for it ever since. 

She gets up from her cracked vinyl chair in the office to stand at the windows, trying to get a better look at their interaction. Joel is in fine form, of course, leaning down close over the driver’s side door, all grins, all popping gum with his jaw as Maureen rests a perfectly french-tipped set of fingers on his bicep. He must say something really funny for her to toss her head back like that, her teased-out hair bouncing with her tittering laugh. Joel slips around the front of the car, and, really, she thinks, is it so necessary for him to pump Maureen’s gas for her? Can Maureen really not just pump her own gas like a normal person? All a bit outdated, if you ask her. Though Maureen seems perfectly pleased with the whole production, leaning across the passenger’s side and slipping a few folded up bills into the back pocket of Joel’s coveralls while he’s turned away to set the pump back in its holster. How nauseatingly sweet of Maureen, who’s rewarded with another grin and something that must be really fucking funny for her to laugh so loud before she peels away from the shop with one more waggle of her fingers at him. Joel, meanwhile, seems in no hurry to get back to work as he moseys back into the garage, counting the bills that Maureen just tucked into his pocket with a stupid smirk on his face. Yeah, she’s seen quite enough.

“Hey, so I’m just wondering, when you said this wasn’t going to take too long, did you know that you were full of shit? Or is Maureen just that distracting?” Her eyes nearly water when she steps into the garage from the smell of motor oil and burnt rubber, though she’s a little too pissed to worry about that as she walks over to where Joel is rummaging through a tool box next to the mustang. 

“Aw, Cherry, don’t tell me you're jealous of little old Maureen.” She would like to smack his smile clean off his face, the only thing stopping her being the fact that she still needs him to fix her car. 

“I’m not jealous, Joel. I have been sitting in that office all afternoon watching you do everything except fix my car and I would like to go home now.” 

“So you’ve been watching me, huh?” 

“Christ, you really are relentless, aren’t you?” She honestly can’t believe he’s already bounced back to his incessant teasing after their little blow up in his truck, poking his tongue into the side of his cheek and squinting at her as she huffs at him.

“Alright, Cher, you’ve waited long enough. I’ll take a look.” She follows close on his heels as he sidles over to her car, popping the hood and ducking his head under to look at the engine.

“Well?” Though she has no clue what he’s looking at, she still leans over the engine next to him, searching his face for any answers.

“Hmm, oh, here’s your problem.” He twists what looks like a loose knob down into the engine, shocking her with how quickly he stands back up with a satisfied smirk on his face. 

“That– that’s it?”

“Yep, loose spark plug.”

“And you couldn’t have fixed that earlier on the side of the road?”

“No, I could have, but then you wouldn’t have come and kept me company with your death glare all afternoon.” He can barely get his words out around a laugh. But she is decidedly not laughing. It’s completely impulsive, and maybe childish, but it feels good to shove the flat of both her palms into his chest, making him stumble back against the side of the mustang parked next to her car. And since it felt so good the first time, she decides to do it again, this time with enough force for his laughs to die out with a grunted oof. 

“You’re an ass, do you know that? A huge– fucking– ass–” Each word gets punctuated with another shove, though on the last one Joel wraps his hand around her wrists, collecting them both in a tight hold and only pulling her closer against his chest when she tries to yank away from him. 

“Let go, Joel.” Their faces are so close to each other’s that she can smell the cinnamon on his breath from that Big Red gum he likes to chew, can even see the freckle tucked between his lashes underneath his right eye, the same freckle that’s been there since they were kids. 

“No.”

“No?”

“No, I’m not gonna let go.” 

“You’re a fucking child.”

“That the best you got, Cherry baby?”

“Do not call me that.”

“Or else what?” A beat, a blink, a moment for her heart to sink into her stomach and shoot straight up into her throat when they both lurch into the space between them. There’s nothing nice about the first one, in fact, it hurts a little with how hard they both press into it, her nose mashing up against his as their teeth scrape and clash with each other. They kiss ugly. They kiss angry. Both of them too stubborn to let the other one get away with anything, the moment he licks into her mouth, she tangles her fingers in the back of his hair and tugs hard, swallowing down the grunt that looses from his throat. Though her upper hand is short-lived when Joel drops both his palms down to her ass and squeezes hard, her whole body jolting in his hold and pressing closer to him. He’s probably getting grease all over her clothes, but she’s not too concerned with that as she keeps drawing low little groans out of him every time she swipes her tongue against his. 

“Wait, Cher– shit, wait– I can’t– I don’t–” She finally pulls back when he keeps mumbling, and suddenly the reality of the situation comes plummeting down on her, starting to panic when it seems like Joel has decided this was all a big mistake.

“What, what is it?”

“I want to do this right with you– your– you should have a nice first time and–”

“Wait, what?” Joel’s eyes get wide and round, his hands dropping down by his sides from where they had been holding her hips when she takes a step back from him.

“Well, I, uh– you– you’re–”

“Joel, have you just assumed that I’m a virgin?” He winces at the word like it’s a curse, and she finally has to laugh at how ridiculous this is. 

“Does that mean you’re not?”

“Just shut up, Joel.” With that, she reaches forward for his waist where the sleeves of his coveralls are tied, making quick work of the knot and rucking his pants the rest of the way down as she kneels in front of him. She tucks her fingers into the band of his boxers, unable to help her grin when she feels his stomach tense against her knuckles.

“Can I?”

“Fuck, yeah, yes– you can do whatever you want, Cherry.” She likes him like this, with his throat bobbing and a crack in his voice pitching his words up an octave, his eyes wide and watching as she tugs his boxers down. And oh, she likes him like this too. Pretty boy who’s certainly pretty all over. The narrow tanness of his hips tapers into a dark thatch of curls, and well, there’s no two ways about it, he’s big, already hard, the tip flushed a perfect pink. Only a little intimidating, but judging by the sound he makes when she suckles the head of him into her mouth, she has it under control. 

“Oh my god– fuck, okay, fuck– you– you’re good at that– Jesus.” There’s a bit too much of him to take it all into her mouth, though she does her best to bob her head down his length, her hand wrapping around what she can’t quite reach as she laps at the vein running along the underside of his cock. A fleeting thought in the back of her mind, this was not how she imagined her day going, not in any universe. But something has snapped, something that cannot be stitched back together. And now, all she feels is an aching want, pulling taut in her stomach, pulling her to him. Want, want, want. She’s never wanted something so bad in her life, she thinks. Not very ladylike to want like this, to gag with it, to dribble spit around it, to see how much more she can take just to coax another broken moan out of his chest, her palms splayed out on his hips to keep him pinned still beneath all her want. But what she didn’t consider is that he wants it just as bad and big as she does, hooking his hand around the back of her neck to pull her off of him and hoist her onto her feet, chasing after the taste of himself on her tongue as he turns them around to press her up against the side of the car. 

“That was gonna be over too fucking soon if I let you keep doing that.” His hands get a little greedy, a little desperate, fumbling to get her t-shirt off before tugging her bra up and overhead without even unclasping it, ducking his head down to let his teeth scrape and nip at the newly exposed skin. He pauses only for a moment, pulling back, his parted lips shiny and blushing and his eyes heavy as he takes her in. She can’t help but drag her hand back through his hair, something tight settling in her chest when he absent-mindedly nudges his cheek closer into the cup of her palm. 

“You’re something else, Cherry.” She doesn’t have any time to ask him just what he means by that, his lips already finding hers again, a small gasp in the back of her throat at the feeling of her nipples dragging against the fabric of his wife beater. And then it’s an awkward, slow shuffle, given that his coveralls and boxers are still pooled and pulled around his ankles, around to the front of the car, his hands finding the backs of her thighs to coax her up and onto the hood. From there his palms start to wander, one coming to cup the side of her neck before slipping down to her breast, the boyish squeeze he leaves there making her laugh, though the sound dies fast when his other hand rests heavy at the waistband of her shorts, thumbing at the button. 

“Can I touch you, Cher?” It’s entirely too earnest, the way he’s looking at her from beneath the thick fan of his lashes, a small crease between his brows. And she’s a little afraid of how her want might skitter up her throat, so instead of saying anything, she simply pulls him in by the nape of his neck for another kiss as her other hand bats his away to undo her shorts. Mercifully, it’s enough of an answer for Joel, his hand replacing hers and dipping down beneath the fabric of her panties, the broadness of his palm cupping her cunt and grinding up into her heat in a way that makes her gasp against his mouth. 

Annoyingly, he’s halfway decent at it, swiping his fingers through her cunt in a harsh rub, though she tenses up when he tries to immediately dip two of his thick fingers into her clenching entrance. 

“Jesus Christ, warm me up a little first, why don’t you?” He looks genuinely perplexed by her exclamation, his hand stilling beneath the fabric of her panties as his brow crumples in reaction. 

“What did I do wrong?” She tugs lightly at the hair at his nape, a light laugh leaving her lips when he lets out a huff like an impatient boy.

“You’re a bit harsh, Joel.”

“Well, I’ve never had any complaints before.” Said with a roll of his eyes and his hand still down her pants so really, she has a hard time taking him seriously. 

“Well, I’m complaining. Just– gentler, here.” She clasps her fingers around his wrist to pull his hand away, giving her room to shimmy her shorts and panties further down over the curve of her ass, the way Joel’s eyes instantly fall to where her legs have now splayed open a bit wider not getting lost on her. She fits her palm to the back of his hand, guiding it back to her cunt, her fingers pressing against the backs of his to direct a firm, swirling pressure to her clit. Her head tilts back on her neck as the pleasure settles over her slow and smooth, continuing to guide Joel’s hand with her own. 

“Just like that, s’perfect.” 

“Like that?” He says it so quietly, so uncharacteristically small that her attention snaps back onto him. His eyes are glued to where her hand is still moving his, lips parted, a look that borders on wonder and clear concentration, and suddenly, she can’t take her own gaze away from the sight, her head tilting on her shoulder as her hand falls away from his to let him do it on his own. 

“Yeah, Joel, feels really good like that. You can– you can add a finger now.” When he does, much slower, much softer, her eyes scrunch shut with a small curse and a sigh, and she finds herself leaning back on her elbows over the hood of the car, her whole body splayed out before him. Joel follows her slow fall, keeping a steady rhythm with his hand as he curls over her, his mouth resting hot and open between her breasts before he tilts his head to the side to take the peak of one of her nipples into his mouth. 

“That feel good, Cher?” 

“Yes, keep doing that, please. I– I’m gonna get there just like this.” Miracle, he listens, only adding another finger when she asks him for it, fucking her with his hand just how she wants him to. Miracle, she can’t tear her eyes away from his, the way he seems to be watching her face for every tell, every sigh and every fall. And miracle, she comes undone for him slowly, a cry catching in her throat when it finally hits her, the easiest unraveling. He only stops when she whines for him to, tugging his hand away and pulling him down for a kiss that’s more just two open mouths laying over each other than anything else. 

“Can we? Do you want to?”

“Yes, I want to.”

“Condom?”

“Birth control.”

“Gotta love women’s lib.” 

“Just don’t tell my mom.”

“Please don’t talk about your mom right now, Cher.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay, just come here.” He struggles a bit to tug her shorts and panties off of her feet, the fabric getting caught on her sneakers, though when he’s finally successful it’s the easiest thing for his hips to slot with hers, his hands curling around the backs of her knees to hitch her legs around his waist. Her arms settle loosely around his shoulders, laying back and bringing him with her as he presses his cock against her swollen cunt. A quick snarl of pain that pleasure snaps and smacks after when drives into her with one languid stroke, both of them letting out stuttered sighs when his hips press against hers. All of that want flickering up and down her spine as he starts to fuck into her, spreading her open again and again. 

“S’a fucking dream, you’re a fucking dream.” She almost wants to laugh at the breathless murmuring of his words, because truthfully she doesn’t think anything has ever felt this real. Her body fitting around his, the way her heart is threatening to beat a break in her ribs, the way her nails can drag down the sliding wings of his shoulder blades, and the incessant, aching heat of him throbbing so deep inside her that she thinks she’ll still feel that hurt tomorrow. She hopes that she will. 

“Joel, look at me, please.” She has to tug on his hair to coax his face out of the hollow of her throat and suddenly that want is dangerous. Looking into the crumpled pleasure painted across his face, watery eyes and slack jaw, and that want becomes dangerous because that want becomes something more. 

She can feel her slick dripping down her thighs, the sound of skin meeting skin mixing with the obscene slip of it, only a fleeting worry about making a mess of the car, though that flits away when Joel drags his fingers back over her clit a little harder, a little greedier.

“Just want one more, Cher, please.” She likes please on his tongue. Please pushes her right over the edge. A little harder this time, a little more ragged, furling up tight and taut around him before everything melts down with a whine of his name. He’s still saying please like a prayer when he comes, and all she can do is sigh with the warmth spreading inside of her. Inhale, exhale, her ribs expanding as his contract, a careful, quiet dance as they both come down, still pressed close, lips suggesting grazes. 

“Do you, uh, want to come up to my apartment?” Want says yes, a whisper her ears prick to under the obvious shout of no. Want says yes, over and over.

“Yeah, okay.”

....................................

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[angelst4re]

hi sweetie! i have been dying for a teacher x student type of story trope with jamie ;) with some smut if your comfortable <3

i dont think i've ever written for teacher!jamie before so i could not just let this request sit in my inbox for another 4 months... i also combined it with a jealous jamie smut request but i'm thinking of making a part 2 to this which has more jealous jamie... which i may even be writing right now!!! <3

Sugar- Teacher!Jamie x Reader

♡ warnings: NSFW!!! contains smut!!! please don't read if you're not comfortable love! NEITHER AGES ARE SPECIFIED BUT READER IS 18+ <3 it’s only ever mentioned that theres a 15 year age gap

♡ notes: i attempted to keep this as gender neutral as possible but reader is afab! also i kinda rushed this because i just needed to post something!! but there's going to be a part 2 I PROMISE!!!

“...Oh, and don’t forget, y/l/n, we have a one to one scheduled for 3:30 to discuss your exam results. I’ll be in my office.” Mr Bower, who insisted you call him Jamie, reminded you with a smile as you left the classroom. 

“I haven’t forgotten, sir.” You say as you turn back around to smile at him, and give him a little wave before you leave the room. 

You had two hours to spare before your meeting with the music teacher, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t spend the majority of the time in the bathroom making sure you looked perfect. You had been waiting for a moment like this, a moment alone with the teacher that has plagued your mind since the beginning of the school year. You and your friends, and most likely the entire class, had been captivated by not only his looks but his personality. Having learnt that he had recently become single after a three year long relationship, you felt like you stood a chance, but then you were quickly reminded of the 15 year age gap. 

However, his behaviour around you didn’t go unnoticed. You’d catch him eyeing you up when you would come in wearing a new outfit that evidently boosted your confidence, or you would catch him looking over at you whilst you were in the middle of a written exam, and he would quickly divert his eyes when they met yours. 

Despite the clear indication he may be into you the way you’re into him, you both had a very positive, friendly relationship. He would give you the best tips and advice, and be more than willing to help you progress in the ways you wished to, as he would with anybody in the class, but there was one particular encounter that you couldn’t stop thinking about. 

You and your boyfriend, Andy, had a fight the night before and you had missed your class in the morning. Jamie got in contact with you to ask about the absence, and you felt comfortable enough to explain the situation to him. He told you that even if you didn’t attend your classes that day, to at least come in to talk about how you’re feeling. He assured you that although he didn’t qualify as a therapist, it would be good to talk to someone. And so you did. 

You came in with unbrushed hair, wearing yesterday's clothes and threw yourself onto the chair in his office as you broke down in tears. You don’t remember much of that day, besides the pet names he would casually drop into his sentences. 

Sweetheart, love, darling.

He definitely knew how to charm. 

You also had a memory of staining his white shirt with tears as he let you cry into his chest, telling him how your boyfriend was a dick. How he was caught in bed with a random girl (to which there was proof) but he tried to convince you it never happened. 

You remember Jamie telling you something along the lines of, “every failed relationship should be thought of as a blessing. It might be upsetting to see it come to an end, but it means you’re still yet to find the one out there who’s for you, and it's giving the chance to find them. The one that will treat you right, even on their bad days. You’ll never know where this person may be, but they’re definitely out there.”

It was apparent through a quick google search that Jamie was definitely experienced when it came to relationships, so you knew to trust him on this one. 

You kept checking the time on your phone, waiting and waiting and waiting for it to hit 3:25 so you could begin walking towards Jamie’s office, but the time seemed to pass so slow. 

It was only 3pm. 

You sighed, placing your phone back down on the table you were sat at in the library. All your friends had gone home as you finish early on a Wednesday, yet you agreed to meet Jamie today as it was the only afternoon he had free this week. 

Only seconds after placing your phone down on the table, the screen lights up as it begins to ring, the noise causing everyone to turn around, some even sending dirty looks your way as you pick up your bag and leave, answering the phone as you begin to walk towards the building where Jamie’s office was. 

“What do you want, Andy?” You sighed, holding the phone up to your ear. 

“I miss you,” he said, a feeble attempt to guilt trip you, “I was just looking at some old pictures and-”

“It was your idea for us to take a break in the first place. I’m not just going to drop everything and come running back to you because you ‘miss me’.” 

“I’m sorry, okay. I realised what I did was wrong and…” 

You stopped listening to what Andy was saying as Jamie passed you in the hallway, sensing your distressed state he stopped quickly to mouth an ‘is everything okay?’, to which you nodded your head. 

“I don’t care, okay. Whatever you have to say I’m sure I’ve heard it all before. When I’m ready to talk to you I will, until then just please give me some space.” You say before ending the call, and you jump as you realise Jamie was waiting by your side. 

You were blocking the door to his office. 

“I’m so sorry!” You apologise, stepping to the side. 

“Don’t apologise!” Jamie gasped, as if you had offended him, before opening the door for you, “we can start early if that’s okay with you, I have nothing else planned this afternoon.” 

Nodding your head, you entered his office. 

“So he’s still giving you grief- Andy?” 

“How did you guess?” You scoff as you sit down on the chair opposite his desk. 

“I don’t know how a someone like you can stay with someone like him-”

“We’re on a break, actually.” You interrupted. “Although he seems to care about me more now than he did in the 8 months we were together.” 

“You need to leave him for good, sweetheart.” He told you, as he rummaged through the cabinet beside his desk, pulling out your exam papers and setting them in front of you. “So, let’s begin!”

Only twenty minutes into the session, your phone began to ring again, and you apologised to Jamie, getting ready to leave the room to take the call before realising it was Andy again. Jamie didn't look best impressed as you ran a hand through your hair stressfully. 

“Give me your phone.” Jamie sighed. 

“No, it’s okay, really. I’ll just switch it off-”

“Y/n. Phone.”

The sternness in his voice sent chills through your body, yet a warmth grew in your lower stomach. 

By the time you handed your phone over to him, Andy had stopped calling. Hopefully, he had given up, but you knew he would keep going until he got his way, like always. 

“You know, sweetheart, the look on your face when you saw it was him calling you told me everything.” Jamie said, leaning back in his chair. 

“What do you mean?” You scoffed. 

“You know what I mean, darling. Please stop trying to convince yourself he’s a good guy, not when he treats you like shit and expects you to drop everything for him. You deserve better.”

“And how do you know that? Sure, me and Andy might have our moments, but when he can be nice… he’s somebody completely different. Deep down, he’s a really good guy, Jamie.” You explain, feeling tears of frustration begin to gloss your eyes. 

“I’m not buying it, love.” He said, shaking his head in disbelief. 

And that was all it took to push you over the edge, shoving your phone into your bag as you pushed your exam papers towards him and stood up. 

“That’s it, I’m not taking this anymore.” You frown, turning around to leave. 

“There we go, that’s what you should say next time Andy’s on the phone-”

“Oh, Jamie, won’t you just shut up!” You shout, throwing your arms in the air. “What is your fucking problem today?”

“Well, technically your ‘boyfriend’ isn’t my problem, so…”

“Why do you care so much?” You finally say after a moment's silence, your hands placed on the back of the chair you were previously sitting on. 

“You’re my student. It’s my job to care.” He answers, simply. 

“But there’s more to it than that. Isn’t there?” You swallow, bracing yourself for his reply, “c’mon Jamie, I’m not stupid.” 

“What are you trying to imply, darling?” He chuckles, standing up from his chair and making his way towards you, “are you talking about the way I catch you staring at me in class when everyone else is working, or how about when I hear you gossiping with your friends about my love life, or about how you could tell I had used a different aftershave one day…” 

The smirk on his face was devilish, but you had no time to process that with your recent revelation. 

“You’re jealous.” You stated, turning to look up at him. “You’re jealous of Andy.” 

“Darling, I have no need to be jealous of him. Not when I know you’re leaving him.” 

“You don’t know whether I’m-”

You never got to finish that sentence as you were met with his lips on yours. His hand came up to cup your cheek, his thumb wiping away a tear which had fallen in your moment of frustration. As he pulled back from the kiss, he pressed his forehead against yours before whispering,

“What if I prove you- show to you why you should leave him, hm?” He asked, although it wasn’t much of a question as he could tell by the way you were looking at him what the answer was going to be. “I need words, baby.” 

“Yes.” You managed to say, after catching your breath. 

A smile spread across Jamie’s lips briefly before you pulled him back in, missing the feeling of his soft lips against yours. With one hand on your waist, holding you against him, the other was placed on your cheek again, whilst your arms wrapped around his neck. You had dreamt and fantasised about this moment for months, but you never expected it to ever happen. It was always more of a scenario to help you fall asleep rather than something that would actually come true. 

“Does he fuck you good, hm? The way you want?” He asks, breathlessly, as he lifts you up onto his desk, shoving everything out of the way. 

You shake your head, using the slight space between you to reach for his belt, but he seemed to have other plans. 

“Has he ever gone down on you?” He asked bluntly, his fingers dipping into the waistband of your shorts, easing them down your legs along with your underwear. 

You once again shake your head, you have only received head once, and that was during a drunk fling at your friends birthday party- and even then you didn’t get to finish. 

Jamie simply chuckled, as if to say he wasn’t surprised. 

“Poor thing,” he frowns, lowering himself to his knees in front of you as he holds your legs open for him, placing kisses on your inner thighs, trailing down to your knees before going back up again, stopping where you needed him the most. “You ever cum when he fucks you?” 

And as if on command, you shook your head again.

“Only when I’m alone.” You confess. 

“Oh yeah, and who do you think about whilst you touch yourself?” He teases, his thumb gently stroking your clit as you fight the urge to close your legs. He looks up at you, stopping all movement as he waits on your answer. 

“You, I think about you, Jamie.” You whine.

“Oh, honey, I know.” He says before you feel his lips on your skin, his tongue circling your clit as his fingers move a little lower, finding your opening and teasing circles around it before gently pushing one in. 

His fingers were a favourite in your fantasies, thinking about what they could do, and he certainly did not disappoint. 

A second finger followed the first and they began curling inside you, searching for a spot Jamie was sure your ex would never have been able to find, and when you let out a choked moan he smirked against you, knowing he’d found it. 

Hif fingers rubbed against this spot inside you as his tongue licked, sucked and nibbled on the sensitive nub, and you were frighteningly close to the edge. You had never reached your high so quickly before, but as his hot breath fanned over your clit you tumbled off the edge, your orgasm washing over you. Your release began to drip down his hand as he continued at the pace he started, and your legs shook as you panted, your fingers pulling at his hair. 

“Jesus,” you whispered breathlessly. 

“Just me, darling.” He smirked, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before coming back up to place a kiss on your forehead. 

You couldn’t believe the timing as there was a knock at the door to Jamie’s office. The two of you both froze for a moment, before Jamie handed you your clothes and rushed to the door. 

“Mr Bower, I know you usually go home early today but Margaret told me you were here so I was just wondering if I could-” 

“I’m in a meeting right now, Sasha, can you wait just two minutes?” He put on his best grin as he his behind the slightly open door to disguise his hard on. 

“Oh, of course! Sorry to interrupt!” The girl apologised before Jamie shut the door. 

“Sorry, sweetheart, we have to cut it short today. But you’re sure to be back in here later this week, or should I say let's reschedule?” He tried to hide his smirk when your legs wobbled as you got off his desk.

“I’m available all week, unless I decide to see Andy-”

“Honey, if I have to hear about him once more-”

“You’ll get all heated and fuck me senseless over your desk?” You grinned, feeling slightly giddy after the mind blowing orgasm he had given you, “why on earth would I want that?”

[junosmindpalace]

Hey!! (。・∀・)ノ☆

If it's okay, could you please write a Senku x gender-neutral reader oneshot in which the reader really wants to learn more about astrophysics (likely being inspired by Senku), but they're nervous and way too hard on themself, thanks to all of the criticism and discouragement they've faced from their family? ☆

Sorry about any of the grammar or spelling mistakes I might've just made, lol - I just woke up about an hour ago, but I got super excited when I saw you were taking requests! Have a great day/night, and no pressure &lt;3 ☆

hi there!! thank you so much for your request and patience! i hope this is what you were referring to in your request, i'll edit a bit more in the morning </3 i WOULDVE answered this directly but i suddenly couldnt find it in my inbox anymore. forgive me!

synopsis: you doubt just how far a passion can get you.

You’ve really got to hand it to him; science was awesome. 

The way Senku charged forward with his passion, never once wavering in his love and belief in it despite the backlash and hardships he received was inspiring. All the time you spent around him had his determination and fearlessness inspiring you as well. And when you told him about your pursuit in learning more about astrophysics, all thanks to Senku’s own fascination and all the crazy experiments he roped you into, he was more than ecstatic. 

He’s been the main provider for your fascination, being damned if he wouldn’t take the opportunity to indulge you in the awesome power of and wonder that was science. It was a constant stream of information all coming from Senku, whether it was in the form of some texts he found or one of his rants on a related experiment. It even fuelled his own excitement of being able to talk science with you, eager to dump everything he’s learned into your mind and show off every related experiment he’s capable of. 

Not that you were complaining in the slightest. You soaked up his knowledge and excitement like a sponge, just as eager to learn and indulge as Senku was. You traded information, having conversations that would last hours on the topic. Never once did either of you bore. 

Though it wasn’t long until your family had found your stash of books on the subject and had walked in on you pouring over the information in them. Family members skeptically eyed your notes and the titles of the books you were signing out from libraries and borrowing from Senku. They doubtfully questioned you, and it was as if a switch had been flipped in your head, suddenly feeling small and insecure under their disapproving and scrutinizing gazes. 

It wasn’t hurting anyone, it was just a hobby of yours. And they agreed. Besides, the benefits that came with having a career in the sciences was well worth the pursuit. What felt like a blow to the chest was the fact that they doubted this passion of yours, your capabilities and your commitment to it. 

“You can’t waste all this time on a hobby.”

“Are you sure you have what it takes to pursue this?”

“I just don’t know how suitable this is for you…”

“This interest will die out in a couple of months. Don’t let yourself get caught up in something that will ultimately be of no value to you.” 

Words like these and long conversations about your family doubting your passion in astrophysics made it hard for you to continue enjoying learning the material, and your attitude toward it slowly started to shift. 

This shift didn’t go unnoticed by Senku, of course. He was all too familiar with people doubting the validity of his passion for science. His enthusiasm and insane experiments have gained him both admirers and people who doubted and even resented his eccentricity, viewing him as an oddity. He was all too familiar with people doubting his knowledge and science as a whole! Thus, it was why Senku was the perfect man to help you get back into your old mindset. 

His mission to get you to believe in the awesome power of science started as soon as you first met him, but now he had to help you get back on the track to believing in yourself.

He remembers when you first reluctantly told him about this seed of doubt that had been planted into your mind, slowly invading your mind like an invasive plant. 

Senku made sure to weed out the root of this seed before it could invade the rest of your mind, thorny and suffocating in vines. If there’s anything his old man taught him, it was what support and indulgence could do and where it could take him. 

He can tell you’ve become more doubtful in your knowledge when it came to your discussions, not as eager as you once were to share your findings and things that particularly interested you in the subject. Corrections Senku made seemed to fluster you all the more, even quiet you at times, no longer enthusiastically accepting his contributions to discussions. 

Suddenly you don’t feel as capable as Senku is. You watched his love of science grow up alongside him, and you’re fearful that you just won’t be able to commit to that interest as much as Senku does. What if you’re no good at it? What if you never grow? What if you constantly fall behind? What if you lose interest entirely? The doubts in your mind were endless.

But to Senku, his love of science came very naturally, and he was able to tell that so was the case for you. It wasn’t forced and you certainly weren’t complaining when it came to indulging in the material. You were knowledgeable and capable in the subject, and above all, he could tell that you had fun with it. And ultimately, that was what you needed reminding of.

And so one afternoon after another no-go at getting easy discussion out of you, you had revealed to him in a messy jumble all these fears that were pulling you back from continuing to pursue this interest. He listened with a frown and furrowed brows as you explained to him the doubts your family had put in your mind, and reflected on them throughout. 

And once you were finally done venting those doubts that were weighing you down like a boulder chained to your leg, a moment of silence followed. 

Suddenly you’re even more nervous than you began, having no clue what to expect from Senku’s response. But then you hear him speak up: “So what?” 

You immediately raised your head, staring at him in confusion. “What?”

“So what?” he echoed, a small smile breaking out over his face. “Science is trial and error. It takes a lot of patience and a lot of time to learn and apply. It can be frustrating and all the failures can be discouraging--if you choose to look at it that way.”

He places his hands in front of his lap and propels himself forward, just slightly, so that his face is inches from yours. You’re taken aback for a moment, and his smile still hasn’t left him. 

“Failure is part of the learning process, a big part! Doubt and speculation are what lead to more theories, more experiments, more learning, and more growth. And with every failure you learn something new, so you never really lose!” 

He rests backward, but never leaves your gaze. His voice grows gentler, but doesn’t lose any of its resolution. “You know this.” 

“And besides, science isn’t about being the best. You like it ‘cause it’s fun, right?”

And his smile grows a little wider when he sees in your face the reminder slowly coming down on you, snapping you out of this trance of self-doubt. 

This interest didn’t develop out of a need to impress, for validation, or any other ulterior motive other than to indulge in a fascination that turned into a hobby you really truly loved. Not because of the praise it brought in from peers, but because you enjoyed immersing yourself in it, from the textbooks to the lengthy conversations to the experiments that took a hundred tries to get right. The successful end goals were just as fun as the insightful process. Even if it took a while to grasp certain concepts or review certain material, it was just all the more exciting and rewarding when it finally did click.  

And though there would always be people who are hesitant to give their all and project those doubts, it shouldn’t hold you back and have you following in their footsteps. 

Besides, having Senku to indulge with certainly meant that you would never, ever have to doubt for long.

[inajda]

🪐 astrology - open readings 🪐

hi everyone 🌙 a quick introduction to my line of study in astrology:

☀️ I'm now opening astrology readings, and as a traditional astrologer my focus is mainly prediction techniques such as solar revolutions (in conjunction with annual profections), synastry, transits, and fertility readings. Although prediction is my specialty, I also do birth chart readings

☀️Readings that I offer

Solar return

Birth chart

Synastry

Monthly transits

Fertility reading

☀️ Why do a reading?

The study of astrology can give us access to the unconscious in a way we cannot do it ourselves. By doing a reading of your birth chart we can identify with more certainty the pattern we follow on our day-to-day that go unnoticed. It’s always important to keep in mind that our birth chart is not permanent or incapable of changing. Throughout life we change, it’s inevitable, but we don’t have only one path to follow, one placement can have innumerous possibilities of action. The most glorious thing an astrology reading can give is to be conscious of your light and shadow and to know the place we occupy, without fear of what the stars might tell us.

☀️ How much?

Each reading costs 30 USD, I put it as a fixed price for any of my unit readings. If you order a combo reading such as natal chart + solar return, it would be $50. I consider a fair price since I'm a professional astrologer with a couple of years studying this subject.

☀️How to book a reading?

For unit readings ($30), I use a website called ko-fi, I'll leave the link at the end of this post and it's also fixed on my profile. The transaction is made by PayPal on the site so it's completely safe. For those who will book thru ko-fi, when your payment has been sent, I ask you to inbox me with your birth chart information.

For combo readings ($50), you can inbox me to book, give your birth chart info, and transfer directly through my PayPal address.

☀️About the report

Depending on demand, I usually give it about 3 to 5 days to give a full report on any of the services I offer. The length is about 14-20 pages (it can vary) long, it's extremely detailed because I like to explain the itty bitty details, and I also think it can be important for the client to have context on the techniques I'm using when analyzing them.

Thank you for your attention <3 Let the stars speak with you!

☀️To book a reading: https://ko-fi.com/inadja ☀️

[bluelizze]

nightlight 🕯️

dan heng x oc (in a more platonic sense)

*note: I say it’s more platonic bc dan heng here (at least for most of the flashback) is a child. there is also some complex with my OC’s lore that is pretty much referenced. but again, this is for my self indulgent so if you’re to curious about her lore, put some questions in my inbox and I’ll happily answer!

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

dan heng was just reading one of the many books when he nocticed that the dark room that is his cell was somehow a little brighter than usual

he looked up to see a beautiful lady wearing a lilic áo dài with long silky black hair, glowing like a night light.

he feels like he knows this lady before yet this is the first time meeting her

“who are you?”

“someone from far away. someone who want to see you.” she answered.

“how did you get here?” she just winks at him.

“it’s a secret~”

the lady giggled. she crouches down to his level and hands out a candy.

he looks at it cautiously

“go on. take it.” she urges. he took it and took a bite out of it.

it was hard yet sweet. she just looks at him with full of love and pats him on the head.

she stands up and dan heng looks up at her with puppy dog eyes.

“do you have to go?”

she smiled sadly. even her snake like eyes are filled with sadness to leave him alone in the dark.

“i’m sorry… i can’t stay for long.” but she kneels back down next to him and lay him on her lap.

“but i can indulge you a little longer.” she said fondly as she smooth his hair. dan heng started to get sleepy from the gesture.

“good night…”

‧₊˚ ☾. ⋅

from then on, she became the light in this dark prison.

she would always come back with candies and stories to tell from her home land.

dan heng love hearing her stories because she told him she is from a world not to far. so surly, he be interested on what’s beyond the bars, beyond the universe.

he never seems to figure out how she bypass the shackling prison unnoticed. she always dodges the question whenever he ask.

at some point, he started calling her jiějiě, since she never told him her name and frankly, she doesn’t seem she will ever tell him.

but he doesn’t mind.

he never tells anyone about jiějiě, he doesn’t want anyone taking her away.

one day however, a man with white fluffy hair came by to his cell. this man has came by to his cell before. he isn’t very familiar with him yet he acts like he knows him well.

“there has been rumors that a spirit would hang around at your cell and i want to see if it’s sure.”

spirit? there was no spirit? the only one who would ever come by is jiějiě.

“i don’t know what you are talking about.”

the white hair just sadly smiles. “but you look as if you are waiting for someone.”

“… maybe because i am.”

“i see.”

‧₊˚ ☾. ⋅

“do you wanna know a story?”

“what is it about this time?”

she took a moment to think her words carefully. “there was a spiritborn. she was born from the heavens and humans and was one of the first of her kind in her world that is connects to the human and spirit realm.” she started

“she volunteered to go to the lufou to expand their connections, and there she met a young vidyadhara, just like you.” she boops his noses and he giggles.

“she soon developed feelings for him but just when she thought she might have a chance, he was already taken by someone else. and it was clear to her that she will always been seen as a close companion to him.”

“even so, she tried to fit in with the vidyadhara and his companions. but it didn’t care the longing of wanting a place to belong.” she open her eyes with a sad look.

“but then, the vidyadhara’s friends got into an accident and he tried to save them, but alas. he made it worst.”

dan heng listen to it with such intensity.

“the girl didn’t know what to do. she was torn. should she stop her vidyadhara soulmate or should she help him? but in the end, it was too much and just ran away.”

dan heng then asked:

“so what happened? to the girl after she ran away.”

she paused. looks at him sadly… “i’m afraid… i have to leave…”

dan heng grips her áo dài. “already…?” She nodded as she pats his head which he is grown to love.

“then… will you tell me what happen next time, jiějiě? i really want to know what happened to her…” her breath hitched. And pulls him for a tight hug smoothing out his hair.

“… you will…”

The next day he waited for her to come back but she didn’t. then the next day. ans then the next.

he continued on waiting until he realizes she’s not coming back. but he is grateful for the little time they had together.

he only wishes that she would come back to finish up the tale she told him. and frankly, he misses her.

‧₊˚ ☾. ⋅

linh noticed dan heng’s uncomfortable state as they enter the shackling prison. and so she stayed by his side

“dan heng… can i?”

dna heng just nodded, expecting her to hold his hand.

he then felt a pat on his head. with their little height difference, he leans down a bit, nuzzling closer to her touch

“strange…” he thought.

“this warmth… in such a place like this… i felt it before…”

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

[buggz-owlz]

posting the writing thing I’m working on here too since I just. Dropped it in an inbox and the world (my few followers) deserve to see it. It’s nowhere near done but whatever

start <3

I like to see the world in shapes, then colors, then objects. Rarely do I see a person.

Sometimes they ask me, “What makes a person? What do you see in someone when you see them as a person?”

 They seem to think in black and white sometimes. They see the people before the objects, the objects before the colors. 

I think of people as a concept. Something about the sickly sweet and the repulsing bitter on every side. It's like the taste of blood, or cough syrup. The tastes that you can find in every little place, no matter how long it's been since then. Depending on the person, these could be the best flavors in the world or the worst you've ever tasted. 

They never seem to understand this. That is why they are people. I can taste the sickly syrup of their words when they tell me it doesn't make sense. 

Now you may be wondering, do I see myself as a person? To answer that question, of course I don’t. 

I taste nothing in my voice except something foreign. The taste of uncertainty. 

You might be confused. What does uncertainty taste like? Well, think of your favorite food. Now imagine you get it the exact same way as always, but something is different. It's an intangible thing, almost only detectable by instincts. Some small part of you knows something is different. It would go unnoticed by anyone else, but you can almost hear it.

Stop <3

tumblr fucked up the formatting but whatever

[sebluvi]

Eyes of Green ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Sebastian Sallow x fem!slytherin!reader. Jealous!Sebastian

Word Count: 2440

Sebastian is in love with you, entirely, even though he’s too scared to admit it to you. A blind act of jealousy threatens your friendship, and possibly even more with him.

REQUESTS ARE OPEN! Send me anything!

This is my first post, please be gentle, and let me know how you feel in my inbox. Even if you normally just scroll through and read, a like or anon message would encourage me to keep going.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Ten. Ten Months. It had been ten excruciating long lonely months since Sebastian had last seen or heard from her. He sat in the Slytherin common room in front of the fireplace, leg bouncing for what seemed like hours at this point. When would you come back? Where had you been? What had he done to deserve this punishment? Sebastian idly twirled his wand in his fingers as the orange and yellow shadows of the fire bounced across his face, quite frankly not knowing what to do with himself.

“Sebastian?!” He quickly raised his head towards the direction of the voice. There y/n stood, eyebrows raised in concern. “Did you not hear me that entire time? Were you in dreamland again?” Y/n laughed, “Seems as if I can’t go to the bathroom for 5 minutes without you knowing what to do with yourself.” Sebastian groaned and rolled his eyes, sliding back in his seat, legs splayed out like he owned the entire couch. “Can’t a man sit in his own common room without being pestered?” He glared at her, following her figure as she came closer to him.

She was right. She was completely right. But he couldn’t let her know that. Ever since he laid eyes on her he had been entranced. Every minute, no, every second of his day was spent thinking of her. He even dreamed of her. He honestly hated it. What had she done to claim the throne in his mind? She smirked at him, extending her hand, offering to pull him up off the couch. His heart skipped a beat. Maybe, it was the view of her towering over him, hand extended to help him up on the first day in Defense Against the Dark Arts when she had absolutely demolished him in her first ever duel. Maybe, it was her in the caves, brows furrowed in concern, sweat dripping down her forehead, blood and various spider parts splattered on her robes, hand extended to help him up after saving his life from savage and unruly creatures. Maybe, it was how her hair stuck to her face in battle, glued to her skin by the sweat and dried blood from the splatters of her victims, lips parted slightly when she panted for air, yet again extending her hand out to h-

“Sebastian!” He snapped back to reality. “What?!” He furrowed his brows at her. Couldn’t she see he was busy thinking about…particularly important things? He scowled at himself, embarrassed by his internal thoughts. “Are you going to get up or not? I don’t mind leaving you here if you’d rather wallow in self pity than get to our class on time.” He rolled his eyes and grabbed her hand, allowing her to pull him up. He rolled his eyes at her and smirked, still holding onto her hand. “You know, I’m a big boy. I can get up myself.” She raised an eyebrow, “Yet we end up in this exact position at least 2 times week, and you accept my help every time.” The smirk on her face was rightfully earned. She slipped her hand out of his, earning a longing huff from him, unnoticed by her of course. He sighed in defeat, knowing she was completely oblivious to the hold she had on him, and bent down to collect his things. By the time he had stood back up and slung his back over his shoulder, she was halfway up the stairs. “Coming Sallow?” She giggled, her laugh disappeared as she ran up the stairs, skipping 2 at a time. “Who in their right mind would be in this much of a hurry to get to potions out of all classes.” He rolled his eyes, and followed her up the stair at a steady space.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

She hadn’t waited for him. She continued to class with the same pace as she took up the stairs. She hadn’t been late to a class yet, despite her various adventures around the castle, and she wasn’t going to be late now. Sebastian had been distant recently. The last week or so he had seemed to always be stuck in his own head. She wondered if something had happened to make him upset, but she was with him almost every day and honestly couldn’t think of one thing that had happened that would make him so distracted all of the time. One day he was completely normal, his usual cocky charming self. The next, he seemed withdrawn and almost nervous to even speak to her, cheeks reddening at the smallest of actions she took towards him. She figured he was just frustrated or dealing with something personal from home. She wouldn’t push it, or even ask. She knew how he liked to deal with his family problems in private.

She pushed open the door to potions, immediately being greeted by a rush of blond curls, freckles, and red robes. “Y/n! I’ve been waiting for you!” Without warning he grabbed her arm and rushed her over to his station. He looked around quickly as if he was making sure the coast was clear. Noticing Professor Sharp had not yet made his way to the classroom, he then leaned in and whispered so no lingering early students would hear. “Listen, I know last time I….” He looked down after seeing her glare, choosing to change his words “we…” He smiled warmly, returned by a tilt of the head with furrowed brows by her “got in trouble..” You raised an eyebrow at him, crossing your arms. You knew where this was going. “But?” You asked, “What do you need me to steal for you today, Weasley?” Garreth chuckled, pleased you weren’t still angry with him over last time. He had profusely apologized and promised next time he would ensure no one got caught, whilst you promptly informed him there would be no next time, yet he knew you were always up for a thrill. Slytherins love to break the rules, you know, with their stereotypical disrespect of authority, and he knew that and loved to pull his dear friend into his shenanigans. When he could get her away from Sebastian, that is. He knew exactly how Slytherin’s minds worked and would use that to his favor. “Nothing! Why would you even assume-“ He stopped talking, her skeptical knowing gaze bored into his head. He chose, again to change his words. “Okay, okay. You know me better than I think you do. You got me.” You continued to stare at him, arms crossed, wishing he would just tell her already. “I only need another Fwooper feather! That’s all!” You threw your arms up in defeat. “Garreth, are you serious? Is this just a complete repeat of last time?! Why can’t you get our own damned Fwooper feather, maybe raise one of your own since you need them all the time!” Exasperated, you huffed at him.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Once Sebastian noticed you were long gone, he figured he wouldn’t actually catch up to you until you got to class, he knew how you were so he decided to wait for Ominis outside the common room. He didn’t have the energy to sprint to class just to be early like you did. Ominis eventually found his way out the common room, and the two old friends chatted idly all the way to class about nothing particularly important. They eventually came upon their destination. Sebastian strode into the classroom, heading towards his station, when he noticed you weren’t at yours. (It was next to his, of course.) The second he heard your voice, he snapped his head towards you, seeing your back turned towards him, with Weasley out of all people. “Garreth, we can’t get caught again.” Sebastian furrowed his eyebrows. What did she mean by that? Get caught? Again?! He stood with his hands on his station, weight distributed against his desk, slightly lent over, daggers pointed in Garreth’s direction. He watched as Garreth was leaning towards you, hand situated on his station settled next to your waist looking down at you, keeping intense eye contact. He was entirely too close to you for Sebastian’s liking. “We won’t get caught again, besides, you know how fun it was sneaking around, y/n.” Garreth smirked, and Sebastian saw red. What the hell did he mean by that? Within a few split seconds and some heavy stomps, Sebastian towered directly behind y/n. Staring daggers into Garreth’s eyes over her head. Garreth quickly glanced up from her eyes, and into Sebastian’s. His eyes went wide, and he took a couple steps away from her, straightening his posture as if he was never that close to y/n to begin with. Garreth immediately realized how risqué the conversation had sounded out of context, and everyone, and I mean everyone, knew how Sebastian felt about her, even if neither of the two in question fully realized. Garreth thought she was gorgeous, adventurous, and insanely interesting. Who wouldn’t? But, Garreth knew where he stood in regards to their friendship and felt as if he was always entirely respectful of you. He knew in Sebastian’s eyes now, there was no way he’d see him as the respectful cheerful Gryffindor friend of y/n’s, but competition. Besides, Garreth’s specialty was potions, not dueling like Sebastian. He wanted nothing to do with the aftermath of Sebastian’s jealousy induced rage.

Confused from his change of demeanor, y/n quickly turned around to see what had caused Garreth’s reaction. She was met with the face of a very red-in-the-face, infuriated Sebastian. “What’s going on over here? Sneaking around with Weasley are we, y/n?” “What?” She looked up at him in wild bewilderment, not sure what he could possibly be mad about. Its not as if Sebastian hadn’t broken the rules with y/n countless times. “Sebastian, calm down please. Its not as you think it to be.” Garreth held both his hands out defensively. Garreth knew exactly what was going on, while y/n didn’t realize when Sebastian had entered and what he had heard. “Then what the hell is it, Garreth?” Garreth, eyes wide, didn’t know what to say without telling on himself. He didn’t entirely want everyone knowing that he wanted to steal more supplies, especially with the help of y/n, but on the other hand he definitely didn’t want to be at the end of wand held by a furious Sebastian. Suddenly, Sebastian felt a hand on his shoulder, pulling him back slightly. “Sebastian…calm down.” “Not now, Ominis.” Sebastian shrugged Ominis’ hand off his shoulder and walked straight forward, gently pushing y/n out his way and placing himself between the two.  Ominis sighed, knowing exactly what was about to transpire. He could help calm his friend down in certain situations, but he knew this time he’d be of no help, and poor Garreth Weasley would have to deal on his own.

“What’s wrong with you Sebastian? Don’t you realize you don’t own me?! I can make my own decisions with you inserting yourself!” Sebastian snapped his head from Garreth back to you. “What are you going on about? I’m trying to protect you from being taken advantage of, can’t you see that?! You stared blankly at him, not understanding where he’s coming from at all. Garreth was only asking you to take some supplies for him, Sebastian was acting as if Garreth asked her to kill someone for him! “Are you serious? You see nothing wrong with this?” He stared back her. Then he realized, their conversation was completely consensual. ‘Again’ meant that they had done it before. She had wanted to. His view flashed red again, no. It was maroon. Then, he decided to speak without thinking. “You couldn’t possibly be sleeping around with Garreth fucking Weasley out of all people can you?! I didn’t take you as the type to do things of that sort with just about anybody” Y/n’s face twisted at the accusation. Everything clicked in place. Sebastian had no idea they were talking about potions supplies, and Sebastian was never informed of the time her and Garreth had gotten in trouble by Professor Sharp. There was no way he would even assume the actual nature of the conversation, simply because he was unaware. Regardless, the accusation was incredibly insulting to her. Why should he be concerned with who she’s sleeping with at all? He isn’t the boss of her! She couldn’t believe her ears. “First of all, I’m not sleeping with anyone Sebastian. Second of all, it wouldn’t be any of your damned business if I was! Maybe before sticking your nose in other’s business and making wildly false accusations you should know what they’re even talking about to begin with! Typical man, speaking before thinking.” She turned around, pushing through Ominis and made her way out the classroom.

Sebastian slowly turned and glanced towards Garreth, who was sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. Garreth smiled cheekily. “Looks like you’re in trouble, bud.” “Don’t call me bud, Weasley.” Sebastian started after you, then stopped and turned around again just to glare at Garreth. Garreth gulped and sat down at his station, deciding to stay out of it. Sebastian turned around again, and ran into a hard surface, which he realized to be Ominis. “Leave her be. You’re emotional and all you’re going to do is upset her more by speaking out of turn. Give her time and go speak to her after class.” Sebastian glared at Ominis, unbeknownst to him of course, but he knew he was right. You needed time. Sebastian sighed, trying to calm himself down. He knew what he said to you was rash and insanely rude. He wanted nothing more than to salvage your friendship with him, and knew he owed you something he normally never gave to anyone.

He owed you an apology.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Let me know if you want part 2 😊 REQUESTS ARE OPEN! send me anything!

[sirthisisa-wendys]

Ok but what if you were in Bonten and fucking Sanzu, nothing serious, but you have fun, so you keep seeing him, and Koko liked you(in secret ofc course, cause he was prob planning a fancy way to impress you).

He wants to stick to his plan but he cannot understand why you keep seeing Sanzu(which he considers the worst possible choice you could’ve make considering all other bonten members) and he loses his cool.

I feel like people don’t get how amazing Koko is and honestly Bonten!Koko gives me LIFE! That white hair, the red outfit! Could be my sexy santa if he wanted

This is one of the handful that have been in my inbox for over a year. Anon, I hope you're still around. It's been a very long time coming, but I'm ready. Thank you for your enduring patience.

Hideaway: Hajime Kokonoi x Fem!Reader

wc: 509

tw: angst

masterlist

Kokonoi doesn't get it.

He's got money. He has cars, homes, clothing... depth. He has everything a woman could ever desire.

And yet... you come flouncing out of Sanzu's apartment with nothing in your hands. Not even a new pair of shoes. Koko feels the rage inside of him welling up like some long-forgotten beast of burden, but then, he sees you smile at him.

You smile at him.

Part of him is convinced it's fake - the sticky lipgloss on your lips is fresh, just like the fresh polish on his shoes - and you can't be happy. Not when you're seeing that drug-addicted, spineless, sunken-eyed loser.

"Koko," you purr, leaning an arm on the banister as you come down. Your hair's out of place, but that could be rectified with a small flick of his wrist.

Too bad he knows not to touch what's not his.

"You need to lighten up. Christmas is coming!"

"I know," Koko replies, trying to hide the bitterness in his voice. "Sanzu going to get you something?" You raise a brow at the man, and Kokonoi feels a tingle rumble down his spine. Your mouth echoes the singular answer he's already told himself in his head.

"Why would he do that?" Kokonoi crumples the bills in his hand involuntarily. Those would need ironing out later.

"So you mean to tell me," Koko begins, letting the crumpled bills fall onto the table unceremoniously. "That Sanzu is so cheap that he wouldn't get you something small for Christmas?"

"Oh, you must be mistaken." Your hand raises to bat at the air twice. "It's not... like that."

"I know what it's like." He can't hide the snide tone his voice carries. He can't hide the fury crushing his jaws together. Koko seems utterly unhinged to you, and he can see himself in your eyes - a man who's been perfectly fine until this moment. "Perfectly" fine to sit in the shadows. Perfectly "fine" to be silent about his crush.

You hesitate to answer. Kokonoi's mind blows apart like steam released from an engine. He's gone off the rails, and there's no turning back.

"You deserve better than that fucking pig!" Koko's finger flies up to the door where you just emerged from, and your flinch doesn't go unnoticed. "You're content with allowing that man to use your body, and he gives you nothing in return except sad, less-than-adequate dick and some twinkling of affection."

Oh, he's said it now.

Your face screws up in anger - jaw clenched - and your tiny hands shake as they ball into fists. "That's enough, Hajime." Koko is the one to flinch at your use of his name, and he suddenly recollects himself, feeling the sweat on his brow as he comes down from his delusional ramblings.

You turn away from him and begin your trek to the entrance of the building, still clenching your hands into fists.

"I'm... I'm sorry, y/n; I lost myself. I'm--"

Still walking, you hold your hand up, silencing him for good.

[en-whims]

𝄞 NEW YEAR'S KISS | PARK SUNGHOON

[scan creds to ado2re]

the third instalment from the "Narratives from the Walkman: a 90's love collective" series

genres: bff au; fluff; slight pining | wc: almost 2k | warnings: swearing; mentions of words synonymous to 'fubu'

tagging: @yenqa @yjjungwon

[ 👤 ] SIDE A ; BOY 3 ㅡ PARK SUNGHOON

°❝ time it takes to break my heart

just tell me how we could make it out

and look this way we've come so far

i wish i could've seen the stars align

oh it was never gonna happen any other time

and everything was easy when I didn't know you

you don't know what you got until it's gone into the blue ❞ °

[ 🎧 ] SIDE B ; TRACK 3 ㅡ time by colouring

“Why don’t you chew your food instead of inhaling it?” a familiar voice suddenly appeared from behind you. Despite the jumbled noises from the huge speakers at every corner, his low-pitched voice is something you could never let go unnoticed.

“What are you doing here?” You asked him in surprise while putting down the blueberry muffin back on the plate. You were busy fumbling with the food on the table trying to figure out what you wanted to eat.

It was New Year’s Eve after all, and the list of food choices was pretty long considering your friend hosted a party in her apartment to welcome another year.

“I’m friends with your friends too in case you forgot.” He said as a matter of factly as he took a gulp from his red plastic cup.

“I thought you moved away to Korea?”

“It’s the holidays, Y/n. I couldn’t just not visit the place I have so many memories with.” You muttered an ‘oh’ and excused yourself to be back with your friends in the living room. As awkward as it was, you shrugged it off thinking you weren’t even supposed to talk to him in the first place.

Sunghoon is one of your best friends, or at least he was. You met him after Ni-ki left you for another state, that was in the summer right before college started, and a year before you broke the heart of your university’s librarian. It wasn’t all that bad with Sunghoon. In fact, your friendship was so great, you both even managed to dodge the romantic feelings that sprung about during the summer.

He’s a man of his word and when he said he wouldn’t cross the line, he proved it. But the tension can’t be denied. An instance or two, you would send electric shivers down his spine just by the mere touch of his skin.

That was how smitten he was with you.

But just like the others, he moved oceans away. He was an aspiring figure skater for nine years now and he decided to represent his hometown for last year’s Olympics. But just because you’re so used to your friends leaving doesn’t mean Sunghoon’s departure didn’t hurt at all. It tortured you.

And now that he’s back in town, you couldn’t help but feel a little bit pissed by his uncalled appearance. He didn’t even bother to call you after he left.

No calls or even messages since then.

Sunghoon noticed the wall you built between him and you. It had always been like that ever since you two had a heated argument two nights before he left for Korea.

But tonight, he took note of the fact that you answered his sarcasm and even asked him simple questions. Although the exchange was pretty brief and dull, he took it as an opportunity to rekindle the once-lost connection.

When the clock showed a 2-minute gap ‘til midnight, the crowd started to cramp up in the living room; you wanted to dissolve yourself from the frame right away. Despite the tight space and the faces of the people you couldn’t make up, the familiar face of an old friend and current foe twinkled five steps away from you.

With a red plastic cup in his hand and the other in his pocket, he flashed you his signature warm and dimpled smile. His cheeks rose and his eyes narrowed.

You thought to yourself, maybe you just hated the fact that he was away and didn’t even bother to slide in a simple hey in your inbox. And that you just missed him so much that it made you furious and frustrated at the only person who could take those feelings away at the moment.

“Would it bother you if I close this small distance?” You gave him a light shrug and he immediately walked towards you making it only a hand span away from each other.

He took out his hand from his pocket and held your pinky as he slowly leaned down to whisper in your ear. “I miss you... and I’m sorry.”

That’s what it all took for your strong walls to crumble down entirely. You wanted to say something but the grandfather’s clock signaled the stroke of midnight and yells of greetings engulfed the entire room.

The crowd started to give each other hugs but most of them were kissing, leaving you and Sunghoon baffled by the tension in the midst of it all.

When he saw you looking at him with a what-to-do face, he impulsively threw back his red cup, smirked, and smashed his lips against yours. Yolo, he thought.

A quick and fleeting moment, you thought to yourself. But Sunghoon wasn’t the type to give you that. Much to your surprise, his hand climbed up to your back while the other was at your nape as he tilted his head to the side to feel you even more.

Your thoughts swirled as your body felt hot with the sudden writhing. He was quick to let go when he heard some of the crowd moving out to proceed to the pool area.

“Damn, didn’t know you two could make out.” Jay, one of your classmates, muttered under his cup while leaning against the arched frame that resulted in him earning an icy glare from you. Sunghoon rubbed the back of his head as the consequence of his bravery started to fill him up. You could only look at the floor in utter embarrassment.

Jay shrugged his hands and winked at you before joining the others outside. “Have fun lovebirds!”

You two only stared at each other for mere seconds before bursting out in a fit of laughter with the sudden realization of what happened. After a while of it, you smiled at him and closed the distance with a tight hug. He felt the weight of how much you missed him as he hugged you back.

But deep down in both of your thoughts, a tingling feeling that was once buried started to spring up again.

With the inevitable that happened a few moments ago, you think to yourselves, maybe the kiss wasn’t just a new year’s gesture after all. Or maybe, it was just the kick from the alcohol that filled both of your systems. Either way, Sunghoon promised to never cross the faint line, and he planned to stick to it for as long as your friendship goes.

“Why didn’t you call, silly?”

“Would you have answered? With the fight that broke between us that night, would you have picked up your phone and slid your finger across the screen? I doubt.”

“You could’ve tried. There’s no harm in doing so.”

“You know damn well I’m not a risk-taker, Y/n. I promised not to answer my feelings for you for a reason. Besides, it’s not like our friendship ended. We just gave each other some needed space.” You brought your head to the floor and Sunghoon wondered why you couldn’t spare him a long glance.

“Is there something you’re not telling me, Y/n?”

“Yes. Tons to be exact. I just don’t know where to start.” He engulfed you in a tight hug as you stained his cardigan with your tears. From screwing with Sunoo to another classmate of yours, you feared Sunghoon’s judgment would cause hurdles in your friendship.

That other classmate in question has always been there since day one in college. Spilling it to Sunghoon might end the night in a brawl as he was present at the party, and knowing Sunghoon, he wouldn’t stop until he lifted a finger and gave that boy a taste of his own medicine.

But then again, it wasn’t entirely their fault since you chose to be in that situation. Sunghoon might just give you the lecture of your life.

“Well, I’m here now. Tell me everything.” Sunghoon looked at you with concern clearly glistening in his eyes. Your shaking gradually came to a halt as he rubbed circles on your back, his light touches making you want to crash against his chest once more.

“I fucked up. I- I don’t know, Sunghoon. I just… I just didn’t know what to do. I’m sorry.” You burst into tears again as your voice became shakier with every utterance.

“Hey, hey. Instead of apologizing for whatever reasons I don’t know, why don’t you tell me what it is, yeah? Don’t be too hard on yourself, we all suck.”

“Gee, thanks, Hoon.”

“What did you do this time?”

“I’m in a very stupid situation because I inflicted emotional damage to someone whose only intention was to love me genuinely. I’m stupid, fuck, I’m so stupid!”

“Hey, easy! What do you mean by inflicted emotional damage to someone? Can you put that in the most basic, kindergarten language that your friend can decipher easily? Help me out here, babe.”

“I toyed around with the university’s librarian and now I’m buck fuddies with someone! Shit-”

“What the?! Y/n… no- please don’t tell me it’s…” You reluctantly nod your head with the most pitiful face you could ever make, and you swore you almost saw Sunghoon’s urge to aggressively punch the wall.

“You decided to cope by being what- nap buddies, pillow pals, or whatever you call it with the school’s fucking casanova because you gave Kim Sunoo the blues? Y/n, you may have lost me and Ni-ki in the middle of time but I can’t believe you’d lose your wits along with it!”

“I didn’t know what to do, okay?”

“Prick just winked at you when we were having a moment! Dammit, I could’ve punched that smile off his face right there and then.”

“It’s not his fault, Hoon. I’m stupid, okay? But we’re here now and it’s already happening so…”

“So what? How long has this been going on? When do you plan to end this?”

“Hoon, Jay has been there for me… I mean he’s consistently there for me, and I’m not just talking about screwing with each other. I’m talking about him being a good friend at the same time.”

“Well, I’m sorry that Ni-ki and I are your absentee buddies. God, Y/n you’re unbelievableㅡ”

“Oh, I’m sorry too, but hey, I wasn’t even blaming your absences! You just got back and now you’re acting like this all of a sudden, who’s a prick now? Need I remind you, your ass never hit me up when you were gone for a solid two years!”

Sunghoon ran his hand through his hair while exhaling an exasperated sigh. “I’m just concerned, okay? Jay is not the guy to fool around with.”

“But he’s exactly a guy for fooling around with, Hoon. He’s not a playboy for no reason.”

You slowly walked towards your things on the couch and started putting them in your bag. “Where are you going?” he asked, trailing behind you.

“Home. Thanks for the new year’s kiss. Although it was good, you kinda ruined the whole moment when I was actually starting to feel comfier with you again. Have fun with your stay. I’m sure someone out here can fill you in on some other hot gossip in town.”

Sunghoon watched your figure slowly fading from the scene. He wanted to chase you and spend more time; after all, you were one of the reasons he visited the town in the first place. But it would only do no good to you both after he hurt you with his words.

It took him a long while to process what happened in his absence. Rage was something he expected to come out from him, and you did too.

But things happened so fast and unexpectedly, his presence was too. You were overwhelmed, and spending the remaining hours in the comfort of your room sounded better than sticking around with his obnoxious ego.

You could only look forward to another year in college without him.ㅡ

leave an ask or a message by the front desk if you want to be added to the taglist!

© EN-WHIMS, 2023. all rights reserved.

[sophierequests]

OKAY SONGFIC EVENT IS CLOSING SOON SO I WILL NOW BE SPAMMING YOUR INBOX <3

🌟 - sports by beach bunny with jesper!!!

i could be lonely with you

Navigation┃Main Masterlist┃Requests

Pairing: Jesper Fahey x gn!Reader

A/N: Lizzzz (@juneberrie, because idk how much you're on your old account anymore), I love that idea!!! And I really adored writing this, even though I think I may have branched out a bit. Ik ik, the song is a bit ambiguous when it comes to happy ending or not, but I can't write too much Jesper angst or I'll cry, so have this. As always, thank you so much for requesting this, and I hope you like it <333 Also, how are y'all liking my new post aesthetic?

Summary: The reader is tired of waiting for Jesper to figure his feelings out, but letting him go isn't an option either.

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff

Word Count: 3.7K

Warnings: alcohol, getting drunk, love, possible reaction, happy endings (yuck)

"You're drinking alone? Without me?" Your reason for choosing to get drunk alone in the first place appeared in front of you all of a sudden. Even though the Crow Club was filled to the brim with gamblers, he still had managed to spot you, and now he was here to make you regret ever leaving the safety of your room. Sometimes you wondered if he did all of this just to purposefully vex you.

"Drinking alone sort of implies not having any company, Jesper.” You murmured, taking another sip from your glass of whiskey, avoiding his gaze as best as you could. But of course, the Saints weren’t merciful enough to grant you some peace and quiet. Without asking, he took the drink from your hands and put it to his lips. The same glass that touched your lips only mere seconds earlier. Well, also the same lips that were on yours only mere hours earlier. Saints.

“I guess we’ll have to change that.” It was then that you noticed the slight slur in his speech. He had already been tipsy before coming here, that was probably the only reason for him to talk to you right now. “Why don’t you come and join me at the card table? I could need a lucky charm.” His tone was distinctly flirtatious, and normally you would have instantly latched on to every syllable, but not now. Not after today.

“Sorry, Jesper. I’m not really in the mood for your games right now.” The double entendre went unnoticed considering he solely seemed to care about the missed opportunity of having you sit around while he gambles away the majority of his money. The corners of his mouth were turned downwards as he gave you an almost tortured groan in reaction to your rejection. And as much as you would have liked to accompany him, being close to him - this close to him - was not going to work.

“Not even for half an hour? I always play better when you’re around.” A wink followed his questionable statement, but you were set on not allowing him to lure you in again.

“Nope. Go and ask Wylan. He’d probably be up for it.” Wow, great work. Now you really ruined it for yourself with your bitterness.

“Wylan’s not into all of that. And Wylan also isn’t you.” Saints, how much you wanted to punch him in his perfectly straight teeth just to swipe that awfully smug look off his face.

“Jesper, I just don’t feel like joining you today.”

“Oh come on, Y/N. After that job today I’m in need of a pick-me-up. Please?” Something inside you snapped at that point. Why couldn’t he just take a damn hint and leave you alone for once?

“And I’m in the need to get drunk and not be bothered by someone that doesn’t even know what he wants!” You wanted to take back the words as soon as they left your mouth. His behaviour was incredibly infuriating, however, that didn’t give you permission to lash out at him, nor to blame him for your feelings. You didn’t dwell on that sentiment for too long though, since before he could even begin to give you any type of response, you stood up and made your way towards the exit. He didn’t follow.

This man would eventually be the death of you if you didn’t

You hated the way he made you feel. The way every smile and touch coming from him made your heart spin. The way he always came to be at your side whenever you needed it. The way he put his arms around you so casually, even when it made your heart double its pace. Every single happy or comforting memory you had of him was terribly tainted by the fact that he just could be clear with his intentions.

The two of you had always been close, that was no secret. He was flirty, touchy and quite possibly one of the worst people to have a crush on. At first, the flirting between you had been completely innocent - as innocent as Jesper’s jokes could be - but over time, there seemed to be some hint of truth behind every cheeky comment or whispered flattery. You saw it in the glint of his eyes or the change of his breathing whenever you would reciprocate his advances.

However, Jesper was also terribly brash and constantly chasing a new high. He didn’t settle, or even show any interest in doing so. Love was a gamble and he was an addict. But just like every other addict, he could never have enough. And you were starting to get tired of waiting for him to figure it out. Because in contrast to him, your feelings were more than clear. You had confessed them to him after a drunken night out, and couldn’t look him straight in the eyes for weeks after that. He didn’t give you a concrete answer after that, only making it his mission to close your tab and bring you back home safely. Much to your surprise, that barely changed the relationship you had. His flirty comments did get a bit more genuine, but you just chalked his behaviour up to being the softest way to let you down. You should have been thankful for him not brutally crushing you with the inevitable rejection, but at the same time, him stringing you along like this only managed to agitate you more. You weren’t sure whether you just wanted him to outright tell you that he didn’t feel the same or whether you wanted to stay in the feeling of blissful ignorance induced by his teasing.

Today’s job had only been the icing on top of the cake.

“Why do we always have to be the decoy? Handsome decoy is not a Jesper talent.” The sharpshooter whined as he fumbled with the buttons of his emerald green vest. It looked a bit too tight for him, yet, he still pulled the look off amazingly well. If you hadn’t known that there were two revolvers tucked away in the holsters of his trousers, you wouldn’t have even begun to question his presence at this merchant’s banquet.

“But you do it so beautifully, Jes.” You grinned, giving him a playful slap to his biceps, which was even more pronounced by the tight white shirt he wore underneath his jacket. If Kaz would be listening in on your conversation, he would probably give both of you a whack with his cane and tell you to focus on the job at hand.

“I’m aware, but doing something beautifully isn’t the same as doing something skillfully.”

“That almost sounds like you’re talking about your attempts at flirting.”

“I beg your pardon? My flirting is as skilled as it can be, thank you very much! And for your information, flirting isn’t easy. Especially if it’s your job.” He explained, an overly serious expression on his face.

“Of course. It must be very hard with your sense of direction, never being able to find your way to a decent pick-up line.”

“Brutal.”

You laughed, hoping that other people wouldn’t catch on to your ill-fitting jolly mood. Thankfully, you were only there to stand watch and not to do the actual dirty work. You were certain that wouldn’t have ended well for any of you. But from where you were standing, close to one of the three entrances to the banquet hall, no one did necessarily care about you. At least not until now.

Inej’s voice coming up from behind you almost made you pull out the dagger strapped to your leg, but Jesper was quick to seize your upper arm. Something seemingly went wrong, judging by her guarded expression, and you were on the edge to find out what she wanted to tell you.

“I have the intel.” Her breathing was ragged, as she threw unnerved glances behind her now and then. “They have seen me and I’m very very sure that they know who we are. We have to leave, but we can’t take the same route. You take this entrance, and I go out through the west one.”

“Inej, we-”

“No. Go.” With that, she had already disappeared into the crowd of wealthy sellers and merchants that still seemed to be utterly oblivious to what had just happened.

“Saints, Kaz’s attitude has been rubbing off on her,” Jesper grumbled, his hand still on your upper arm, only with a way softer grip. You couldn’t spend too much time appreciating his humour, since as soon as you let your eyes fly over the room again, you spotted three men in uniform crossing the hall. Even though they hadn’t seen you yet, they were definitely making their way towards your entrance.

“I think it’s time to go.” You yanked his hand away from your shoulder and took it in your own, before hurrying out the door. The Stadwatch was fast. Way faster than the two of you. And if they caught sight of your faces, you could only pray.

“What are you doing?” Jesper hissed, as he tried to keep up with your pace. The mansion was a maze and it was best to move through it as quickly as you could.

“Stadwatch. They’re coming towards us.”

“Stadwatch? Are you insane? We can never outrun them!” He slowed down ever so slightly, hanging onto you like an anchor.

“We have to try, Jes. Unless you have the intention of sleeping in a cosy cell in Hellgate tonight.”

“No, we can’t outrun them, Y/N. We have to hide.”

“Hide? Jesper, are you mad? Where do you want to hide?”

“Not where. How.” He retorted, pulling you into a rather secluded corridor as you heard steady footsteps approaching. Your back hit the cold cold wall whilst Jesper towered over you, his chest flushed against yours. His head was cocked slightly to the side in order to have a better view of the Stadwatch approaching. When they seemed to be only a few moments away from seeing you, he turned to look at you.

“Just play along.” He whispered, his hot breath fanning over your face, which was mere inches away from meeting yours. Your hands were on his upper arms in an attempt to put a bit of distance between you, however, that seemed to be the complete opposite of what he had in mind.

“Play along with wh-” You didn’t even get to finish your sentence before his lips clashing against yours cut you off. Everything happened so quickly that your brain just stopped working. His hands lingered on your waist, and the longer the kiss lasted, the dizzier you felt. You had to force your eyes shut to not get too invested in it. Kissing him was something you had always wanted to do, but now that it was finally happening, you didn’t know what to do with yourself.

Just play along.

You recalled his words. Up until this second, your hands were still on his arms, looking as if you were close to pushing him away. Without thinking about it, you threw your arms around his neck, pulling him even closer into the kiss, which you were now actively returning. As you did, you heard a muffled yelp coming from his mouth.

The steps that had been approaching slowed down as they passed you, but they didn’t stop. You felt your heartbeat speed up, and through the close proximity to Jesper, you could feel his heart doing the same. When the rhythmic clomping of their boots eventually became inaudible, he pulled away, leaning to the side in order to peek out into the adjacent hallway. His hands didn’t let go of your waist as he assessed your chances of getting out unnoticed, and you were thankful for that. You imagined that if he would dare to let go, your knees would probably give in.

“We’re in the clear.” He huffed, turning his face back to you with a devious grin. You saw him sober up a bit as he looked down at your dumbfounded face. Of course this meant nothing to him, you thought. He could continue on with his day just as if nothing happened, while you were left with the situation playing on repeat in your head. “Are you alright?”

“Yes. Just a bit dizzy.” You breathed. He was still close. Too close.

“I have that effect on people.” He didn’t give you much time to recuperate before reaching for your hand again and rushing towards the exit.

The kiss wouldn’t leave your mind, no matter how hard you tried to forget. You could still feel the pressure of his hands on your waist and taste the bitter tang of kvas on his lips. Running away from him didn’t necessarily help the knife twisting in your chest.

Since you couldn’t bear the feeling of loneliness that you got in your room, you resorted to the only retreat you knew - the roof. It was a stupid idea. Inej would have probably called you daft for going out there at night, especially not during fall. The roof was slippery and it wasn’t unlikely for the wind to pick up. But you just needed to be alone. Completely alone.

Without much thought, you sat down on one of the flat platforms, not caring about the way the wet tiles dampened your clothes. You looked down onto the streets of Ketterdam, focussing on all the little details. They weren’t what one would call crowded, however, enough drunkards and gamblers still staggered through the streets, either to find their way home or to find their way back to the next pub. You would give everything to just be in the shows of some poor drunk bastard whose only worry was what drink he should order next.

“You really have lost your mind, didn’t you?” A shaky voice emerged from a hatch that led out to the rooftop. You angled your head to look at the person wobbling over the slick tiles to get closer to you. Jesper wasn’t particularly fond of climbing or doing tasks that would rather be fit for Inej, so he obviously wasn’t very good at it. You would also suggest that he may have a fear of heights, which he vehemently denied.

“Get off the roof before you fall.” You demanded, anxiously watching him as he threatened to lose his balance.

“Will you join me inside if I do?”

“No, but-”

“Then it’s not happening, love.” You scooted a bit to the side, as he reached the scaffold, giving him some space to calm down. The light up here was pretty sparse and only now you could that he had immensely dressed down from what he wore before. Well, it was a dress-down for Jesper Fahey. He had removed his vest and most of the usual accessories, only being left with his white dressing shirt, brown suspended pants and the thick coat that had always been a little bit too baggy on him.

“Jesper,” You started but didn’t continue. What would you say? How could you even begin to apologize for your embarrassing outburst?

“Do you have any idea how cold it is up here?” You hadn’t even noticed the numbness of your fingers or the constant clattering of your teeth. It was a distraction, that was now completely unnecessary. He sat down next to you, eying you as if he was looking at a ghost. And as if he had to convince himself that you were, in fact, alive, his hand moved to touch yours. He flinched as his warm fingers met yours. You really must feel frigid. “Saints, you’re freezing.” Jesper shrugged off his jacket without a second thought, draping it over your shoulders and not giving in to your meek form of protest.

“Jesper, please.” What were you asking for? For him to leave you alone? For him to stop this lovey-dovey caring act? For him to finally reject you? “Please let me be alone for a bit.”

“I should leave you out here alone? To get sick? To fall off the roof? Absolutely not.” He rambled, scanning over your features, worry embedded in his gaze. “If you don’t want me to talk about it, I won’t talk. That’s fine, we can be lonely together. But I’m not letting you be miserable on top of a roof without supervision.” Why was he so damn complicated?

“Talk.” The word left your mouth before you could stop it.

“What?”

“Just…talk about whatever you came here to talk about. Talk, ask, yell, do whatever you want. Just get it over with, please.” Even though he definitely wasn’t pleased with your current sentiments, he gave you a subtle nod.

“I’m sorry if I upset you by asking you to join me earlier. You looked so unhappy, and I thought that it might cheer you up. I didn’t mean to be so stubborn.” Why was he the one to apologize to you now?

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Jes.” You sighed, facing him fully to at least grant him that decorum. The moonlight made him look ethereal. His gray eyes, which were still surrounded by an uneasy frown, basically pierced through you. Only the most prominent of his features were illuminated by the blue-ish light, making him look like some sort of mystical being. The fact that someone looking like him was currently preparing to reject you would make things a bit easier, you hoped. “I was a bit overwhelmed and I didn’t react properly. It’s not your fault.”

“Y/N, what is going on? Did I say something you didn’t like? If you tell me what it was I’ll stop.” Well, depends if kissing me and then just acting like nothing happened counts. “You started avoiding me after the job today and I don’t know what-” Realization dawned on him as he cut himself off. This was the part where you’d get hurt.

“It has nothing to do with you, I-”

“It was the kiss, wasn’t it?” An unfamiliar emotion travelled over his face, as he began to put two and two together. “I promise that I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, that was never my intention. It was just a means to an end and I’ll stop the flirting if that is what would make you feel better.”

“That’s the problem.” You whispered, not thinking that he would be able to hear it.

“What do you mean?”

Maybe it was time to rip off that bandaid.

“Maybe the fact that the kiss basically meant nothing to you is my problem. Your flirting isn’t the issue, it’s that you do it without feeling anything whilst doing it. I just need you to tell me that you don’t feel the same and then I can move on. But I can’t keep going like this. It’s driving me insane.”

“Feel the same? What are you saying?” This was not going well, was it? How could he be so oblivious?

“I love you, Jesper, okay? I love you, and it kills me that you continue to act as if we could just go on like normal whilst ignoring that fact.”

“You love me?” He looked shocked. Why the fuck did he look shocked?

“Yes? I already told you months ago?” Was he seriously toying with you while you were close to tears?

“You were drunk, I thought…I thought you didn’t mean it!”

“If everything we said whilst being drunk had been a lie, we would barely know each other.” You commented bitterly, waiting for his reaction.

Jesper smiled. Not an uncomfortable or polite smile, but a real toothy grin. A smile that he would normally have after coming back from a successful heist or after winning a round of Three Man Bramble once in a while. Also a smile he wouldn’t just give anyone.

“So the only reason for you being distant after kissing me was because you thought that I didn’t like you back?”

“Way to rub it in, Jesper.”

“And I thought that you just didn’t want to kiss me.” Saints, how you wanted to wipe that self-satisfied grin off his face…

“I didn’t. Not like that. Not when I know that the feelings are one-sided.” You replied groggily. Sometimes you hated how easy it was for him to wind you up. “And you’re really not making things any-”

You felt a tug at the collar of his coat, gently pulling you closer to him. It was almost like a déjà vu - him cutting you off in the middle of a sentence. But this time, it seemed to be completely genuine. Again, his hands moved under his jacket to hold onto your waist, the warmth of his palms giving you a certain fuzzy feeling in the pit of your stomach. With much less hesitation than the last time, you reached for the nape of his neck, only diving deeper into the kiss. His lips felt warm against yours a stark contrast to the harsh wind that previously assaulted you.

Even though you would’ve wanted the kiss to continue forever, at some point it was time for you to break apart. Your eyes were still closed when you pulled away, fearful that all of this would prove to be one of his cruel little games.

“Did you prefer it like that?” He asked, enticing you to slowly peel open your eyes. His eyebrows were raised as he stared at you expectantly.

“Does that mean that…”

“Yes. Since I assume that my constant flirting wasn’t enough to make that clear, I am in love with you, too.” He chuckled, giving you an incredulous look as if it had been more than obvious that he felt that way.

“It’s not exactly that obvious when you flirt with basically everyone.”

“Do you want me to kiss you again? Just to make my point clear, of course.”

“I think I’m in need of some more convincing so that would probably be a good way to bring your point across.”

“How could I deny you?” He smirked, his eyes drifting from your eyes to your lips before another gust of wind caused him to shiver. “But we’re definitely going inside after. I’m not in the mood to become a walking icicle.”

Taglist:

Grishaverse fics in general: @yesshewrites1 @dal-light

Jesper Fahey: @ell0ra-br3kk3r @writingmysanity @fall-writes

[e-dubbc11]

300 Follower Celebration

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Greetings and salutations my lovelies!

I honestly don’t know what to say, I swear I just hit 200 not too long ago, right? Thank you all so much for following me, reading my fics, tagging me in games, throwing a ❤️ at something I post or write. Just know it doesn’t go unnoticed, I promise. ❤️❤️❤️

I don’t know how much activity this will get but we’re giving it a whirl anyway. I wanted to do another celebration (I hope you’ll come to my inbox and say hi) but I wanted to do it a little differently this time. I’ve gathered some ideas from across the Tumblr-verse and I’m calling it

Music, Moodboards, Makeup, and Miscellaneous

The rules will be under the cut…

Now, this isn’t limited to only my followers, although it would be lovely if you did.

While I only write for Matt Murdock and Billy Russo, I’m opening up the below (except for misc #6😊)for all MCU characters and Netflix characters (Daredevil, Punisher, The Defenders)

Send in as many as you’d like

Music

🎸Send me a character plus the guitar emoji and I’ll tell you a song that reminds me of them

🎤I’ll shuffle a playlist of mine and give you my favorite lyric(s) from the first song that plays (for this one, just send the microphone emoji)

🎹Send me a character plus the piano emoji and I’ll make a small playlist based off of them.

Moodboards

🌹 Send me your character crush and an activity, I will make a moodboard for you. (Mutuals only for this one, please)

Makeup

💄Send me your ideal date night scenario with the fictional character of your choice along with your skin tone, eye color and hair color plus a little description of your style and I’ll do your makeup and pick an outfit for your date. Oh and any colors you like and don’t like.

Miscellaneous

💞This or That - Make me choose between two things

💙Tell me a fandom and/or character that I don’t write for and I’ll tell you if I’d be up for writing for them

💜What’s your favorite fic of mine and why?

💚Tell me what made you want to follow me

💛Tell me your favorite MCU moment/scene/quote

🧡If you find a fluffy or angsty prompt that you like that will go with either of my muses (Matt Murdock or Billy Russo) send it on over and I’ll see what I can do with it.

I’ll keep this open until April 1 Closed

Again, thank you for following me! Everyone’s continued support means the world to me. The friends I’ve made on this hellsite have all been so kind and supportive, I hope you all continue to enjoy the content I put out.

I’m tagging some of my mutuals that cheer me on, build me up, and give me virtual hugs when I need them. Love you all!! ❤️❤️❤️

@mindidjarin @munsonownsmyass @idaoftheburningmind @kayhi808 @k-marzolf @itwasthereaminuteago @fluffyprettykitty @saintmurd0ck @pedrito-friskito @freshabogados @elgrandeavocados @ruflirtingwithme @ilovewhiteroses @music-indie-tv @wheresthesunshinesblog @officialjanetsnakehole @mattmurdocksscars @skvatnavle @snowkestrel @anastasianeedstoread @nutmeg17 @gijos

[itsallyscorner]

Omg after Tom showing off his thighs in that Jimmy Fallon interview, please please please could you write something about thigh riding him 💙

Not me immediately working on this once I saw it in my inbox💀 I’m supposed to be clearing my inbox out, but when this popped in I couldn’t help it🙈 I also haven’t done smut in a while so THANK YOU for requesting this😌💞

💌.

Use Me*

Warnings: SMUT! She’s a nasty one. If this is a bit messy, I’m sorry, I haven’t written smut in ages😭

(GIF from @tomhollandnet )

“Citizen Kane!” Your boyfriend confidently blurted out to his laptop. He must’ve done something wrong because his eyes widened in surprise.

“Oh, hang on a minute!” He stuttered placing his hand on his chest. You heard Jimmy Fallon laugh from the laptop and explain the rules of the game again. You let out a quiet laugh yourself from behind his set up, though your eyes drifted down to his bare legs that bounced up and down.

For the past few weeks, Tom has been doing promo for his new and highly anticipated film Cherry. While trying to balance filming Spider-Man 3 and doing promo, you guys barely had time to spend together. Not that it bothered you; you understood how hectic his job could get, so you weren’t phased by the back to back Zoom interviews or how he’d join you in bed late at night after a long day on set.

The lost time between the both of you must’ve finally caught up on Tom as he woke up clingier than usual. The moment his eyes fluttered open he felt the need to touch you, to have his skin pressed up against yours, and to feel the warmth that radiated off your body. He just wanted to have you near him—the reason to why he begged you to spend the entire day with him.

You should have been listening to Tom talking passionately about his film, but your mind drifted off to the gutter. Only a few feet away from you was your boyfriend sitting behind a desk, wearing a black shirt, topped with a black blazer, pantless. The only garments covering his bottom half were his boxers and socks, leaving his thighs bare and tempting to your eyes. You tried to avoid looking at them, forcing your attention to focus on the words coming out his mouth, but your eyes were constantly drifting down to his thighs. From the way Tom rubbed his rough hands on them to the way they flexed whenever he moved was starting to cause a pool of arousal to form in your panties.

Tom’s voice faded into the background as you stared blankly at his thighs, imagining how the smooth skin would feel against your wet cunt. You bit your lip, mind wandering to the thought of Tom flexing his thigh while you grinded your hips against him. The ideas in your head caused you to unconsciously squeeze your thighs together. Trying to relieve yourself of the hot tension forming in your body. Though, the action doesn’t go unnoticed by your boyfriend, who had a small smirk on his face after catching you in the corner of his eyes.

A few more minutes pass and he was already finishing up his interview with Jimmy. Though you didn’t notice since your attention was still fixated on his sculpted thighs. That and you were constantly adjusting yourself in your seat because of how embarrassingly wet your panties were getting. You attempted to distract yourself with your phone and scrolled mindlessly through Instagram. You weren’t even looking at the posts, just randomly double tapping and scrolling past them. Much to your dismay, your ways of distraction failed once again. Instead of focusing on your screen, your eyes zeroed in on Tom’s legs.

“You know darling, I could practically feel your eyes burning holes into my thighs.” He suddenly teased you. You felt the heat rush to your face as you hid behind your phone screen.

“I’m not looking at your thighs.” You pathetically lied, turning your phone off, and crossing your arms. His tired but rich chocolate colored eyes capture yours. There was a hint of playfulness mixed with lust in them. He wasn’t oblivious, he could feel the tension growing in the room.

Tom tilts his head to the side, “Then why were you consistently staring at my legs?” He crossed his legs making his thighs momentarily flex again.

“I was looking at your socks.”

“What about my socks?” He quirked a brow at you.

“They’re dirty.” You shrugged.

“Really? But my socks are down there, not up here.” He cheekily quipped, motioning to his lap. You whined and threw your head back against the couch, shoving a pillow to your face in the process.

“Busted.” Tom sang huskily before pulling his bottom lip in between his teeth. He scanned your figure on the couch, eyes lingering on the way your legs were still clenched together.

“C’mere.” His voice was an octave lower, catching your attention. You pull the pillow off your face and see him gazing down at you from his seat, legs spread out in front of him. You toss your phone on the couch and walk towards him. His hands reach out for you midway, then settle to grasp on your hips.

“Mmm, baby, I can smell you.” His hands maneuver around your waist to squeeze your bum, emitting a light hum from you. You draped one of your arms around his shoulder while your hand cradled his jaw.

“Sorry, I can’t help it. Stupid thighs.” You mumble, the blush remaining on your cheeks.

“I want you to get off these stupid thighs. Use me, (y/n).” He encouraged, pulling you closer. You were about to agree but his attire reminded you that he had an interview in a few minutes.

“Wait—Tom, don’t you have another interview?” You asked him, shaking yourself out of your trance of arousal and pulling away from him. Tom whined, dragging you back towards his chest.

“In like 15 or 20 minutes, it’s enough time.” He reached behind you and slammed his laptop shut. He clumsily got out of his chair and led you to the loveseat behind him. He sat down and placed you in between his legs.

While he pulled your shorts and panties off you continued to question him, “Are you sure, Tommy?” He tapped your ankles, signaling for you to step out of your undergarments.

Tom stopped and looked up at you, “Yes, I’m sure. We have to be quick, but I just wanna feel you on me. We could continue when I’m done, promise.” He held your hands and pressed a kiss onto the back of them.

“Ok. But if you get in trouble, I swear—oh.” You were interrupted by Tom pressing a sloppy kiss above your mound. He placed your hands to rest on his shoulders and guided you to straddle his thigh. Once you were settled, he slipped two of his fingers between your legs to gather some of your wetness. He groaned at how soaked you were, leaving his fingers to slide through your folds a little bit longer. When he took them out, his fingers were covered in your glossy juices. He wiped some of your slick onto your lips before shoving his fingers into his mouth.

“Taste so fucking good, shit.” Tom growled, crashing his lips onto yours. The kiss was passionately messy; tongues dancing around each other while your teeth clashed from time to time, along with the taste of you on both your lips. Tom was the first to pull away still biting down on your bottom lip, “Come on, wanna feel you ride my thigh.” He scooted back into the seat, guiding your hips to settle down on his thigh. Your knees ached from kneeling on the couch’s material, but the burn you felt in your core urged you to put up a fight.

The moment you came into contact with his thigh felt like euphoria. Your eyes rolled back and a moan dragged out of your body. The pleasurable sensation of finally relieving the burn in your core rushed through your body. Another tension was building up in you, desperation. Grinding your hips down on him repeatedly made you obsessed with how he felt under you, making you desperate to get more.

You had no problem rocking against him, your wetness made it easy enough for you to simply slide your hips up and down the expanse of his firm thighs. Tom moaned at how soaked his skin felt while your folds rubbed up against him. Feeling you on him made him flex his thigh under you, causing you to ground your hips even harder against him. His thigh was lathered in your wetness.

“Fuck, Tom.” You whimper out, harshly squeezing his shoulders for leverage.

“You feel so good on me. You look so good using me to get off, such a pretty girl.” He praised you. He momentarily sat back to admire the way you looked at the moment. Your hair was a bit messy and you were wearing one of his shirts, which was rudely blocking his view of you on him. His long fingers hook beneath the shirt and lift it up, giving him the perfect view of your cunt gliding on his thigh. His jaw clenched at the sight taking a mental picture.

Tom sat up on the couch, gathering your shirt to bunch up right above your breast. He dives into your chest, yanking down the cups of your bra to expose your boobs. He places wet and open mouthed kisses on them, giving them both the attention they needed. You were a moaning mess above him, enjoying the way his tongue swirled around your nipples. When a dark red mark appeared on your skin he trailed the kisses up to your neck until he reached the special spot below your ear. He started off with light kisses before sinking his teeth down on your soft skin. The bite only spurred you on, hips moving faster against him.

While his mouth worked on marking your neck, his leg that you were on moved to meet your hips. The motion made your clit graze against him, forming whines to bubble out your throat. You fucked yourself harder on his thigh, making sure your clit was also rubbing against him as you chased your release. Tom felt they way your legs quivered around him, signing that you were almost there.

Tom’s arm wraps around your waist, helping you hold yourself up against him. With his other hand he gently cradles your face. His lips brush against yours and your noses occasionally bump into each other. A lopsided grin is on his face as he stares at you. He catches the way the corner of your lips quirk up for a matter of seconds until your features scrunch up in concentration again.

“You’re doing such a good job, darling. I could feel you clenching on me, you’re close aren’t you?” He latches your lips together, swallowing your moans. Your fingers pulled tighter on the ends of his hair, making him groan.

“Can’t mess the hair up.” He managed to get out. You grunted and tugged on his hair before your hands returned to his shoulders. Tom pecked your lips once more before leaning back into the couch. Without any warning, his hand lightly swated your clit. You yelped in surprise at the sudden contact. Tom only chuckled, earning him a slap to the chest and a glare from you.

“Sorry, sorry, I know we’re short on time.” He apologized and connected his thumb to your clit. The rough pad made tight circles around your bud. With the friction of his thigh against you and his thumb on your clit you were seeing stars. You were so out of it, only feeling the euphoric pleasures coursing through your senses. The quicker and sharper his circles got, the closer you felt to your relief.

“Just like that Tom, fuck. Keep going I’m close.” Your back arched. Tom shoved his head in between your breasts again, littering sloppy kisses on your chest.

“C’mon, cum on me, baby.” He urged you, holding your body flush against him. His head was tilted up at you, staring at the way your mouth was hung open in pleasure. He loved watching your face when you came, it drove him mad.

Your stomach tightens along with your legs that straddled him. You let out a mix of a shaky gasp and moan, feeling the knot in your stomach come undone. Tom threw his head back against the couch while watching you release on his thigh, your cum gushing out against him.

“Fuck.” He breathed out, eyes glued to your release. You let out pants as aftershocks from your release wracked your body. Tom was quick to guide your body against him, not caring that his clothes might wrinkle. He placed your head in the crook of his neck and pressed kisses along your face. His large hands stroke your back, helping you come down from your high. Laying against him, all he felt was you; from your heart rapidly beating against his chest to the feeling of you trying to steady your breathing.

“You alright?” He whispered against your hair. You tiredly nodded, giving yourself a moment to calm down.

“Yeah—just need a minute and I’ll get off of you.” You reply, tenderly kissing his collarbone. Tom whines tightening his grip around you, “I don’t want you to go.”

“I don’t either, but,” you reach over to tap the screen of his phone, “You’ve got eight minutes left till your next interview.”

You feel something firm poke against your leg, “How you ever wondered if you can cum in under eight minutes?” The sentence caught Tom off guard, making him raise a brow at you. You tilted your head south of his body, motioning to his dick.

Tom shifted his gaze between you and his hard on, “Wanna find out?”

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