#I’m letting her know I like her next week

[seitmai]

Many thoughts...

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

I can 100% see that

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

Yeah, let's show it off 😌

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

A man on a mission

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

Lmao that would be funny though 😅

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

Oh, we all know 😅

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

A woman teasing Jake? Bradley is probably thinking about proposing right then and there😅

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

😌🤭😌🤭

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

Definitely not his fault 🤷🏻‍♀️😅

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

His hat has probably been worn by multiple women before 🤭

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

That's so cute 😍

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

There always has to be a first time 😌

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

Oh I bet he does 🤭🤤

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

🤭🤭🤭

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

Ahhhh omg

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

Love that they both met each other's partners on the same night out 😅

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

Oh he is so in love🥰

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

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

Facts 🤷🏻‍♀️

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

Wear that SPF!!

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

Ahh I loved all of this so much 🥰

Hey, Sailor

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

Pairing: Bradley”Rooster” Bradshaw x Female Reader

Length: 5.8K

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

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

Normally, Rooster loved Fleet Week.

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

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

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

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

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

Keep reading

[wonderjanga]

Where Have you Been?

This is inspired by this post.

Billy was having a rough day. Scratch that. A rough couple of months. Recently, he’s been… losing himself? He doesn’t know how to put it into words. It’s just that more he’s Marvel, the more he forgets about being Billy. In all honesty, it’s scaring him. What’s even worse is that, no matter what others think, he isn’t in control anymore, and Billy knows it. One moment, he’ll just be Billy Batson and then the next he’ll be Marvel with no recollection of even saying the word. Billy truly wished he hadn’t noticed the gaps in his memory getting bigger.

Speaking of memory gaps, Billy had a pretty big one to fill considering all he did was go to bed, and was then greeted with the misfortune of waking up on a random beach with the lower half of his body slightly wet from the tide. All he knows is that he’s not near Fawcett, let alone Iowa, because last he checked, it was a landlocked state. So, he got up, and decided to go find out where he was.

Billy: *wandering around while shaking any sand off himself, eventually spotting a flag* “Oh! I’m in… I still have no idea.”

Glasses Lady: *approaches him* “Por que você não está na escola?” (Translation: Why aren’t you in school?)

Billy: *frog blinks* “Huh?”

Billy was… pretty sure that was Spanish. So he’s probably still on earth. Maybe. After a little bit of back-and-forth, the Glasses Lady finally realized he couldn’t understand what Billy was only half sure was Spanish. In the end, she just started taking him around to find somebody who could speak English.

Glasses Lady: “¿Você fala inglês? Acho que este é o filho de um turista.” (Translation: Do you speak English? I think this is a tourist's son.)

Old Granny: “Não. Pobre garoto.” *leans down to pinch his cheek* (Translation: “No. Poor boy.)

Billy: *confused as to why this random old lady is pinching his cheek*

Eventually, after a while, they did find somebody who could speak English.

Billy: “Do you know where I am, miss?”

College Student: “You’re in Brazil.”

Billy: “Brazil??” *sounds super concerned* “Isn’t that in South America? I think?”

College Student: “It is. How did you even get here? Are you on vacation?”

Billy: “No? I just woke up here.” *wondering how he’s gonna explain this to Rosa*

College Student: “What?” *also now concerned because she thinks this child might’ve been a victim of trafficking*

Billy: “Uhm… you have like a map that you can show me?”

College Student: “I don’t think a map will help you, bud.”

Billy: *shrugs* “Theres always the chance it could, miss.”

College Student: “I guess?” *pulls up google maps*

Billy: *zooms out so he can just see the countries* “Oh okay. So not that far away.”

College Student: “You’re plenty far away what are you talking about? Also, why’re you sandy?” *wipes off some sand her phone*

Billy: *ignores both questions* “Do you know which way is north?”

College Student: “Uh… it should be that way.” *points in the direction*

Billy: “Oh thank you!” * is about to runoff, but looks back at the Glasses Lady* “And gracias?” *looks to the College Student* “That how you say it right?”

College Student: “No, that’s Spanish.” *shakes head* “It’s supposed to be obrigado.” (Translation: Thank you.)

Billy: “Oh, obrigado!” *definitely butchered the pronunciation and runs off to he north*

College Student: “Wait, come back!”

As soon as Billy was out of sight, he shazamed and flew in the direction she pointed in. Now, the boy wouldn’t admit this, but he actually flew slower than normal. He didn’t wanna think about the future confrontation with Rosa, not to mention his other family members. Was he prolonging the inevitable? Yes. Did he feel guilty? Also, yes. Did that mean he was gonna speed up though? …No.

Billy was just passing over Mexico when his JL comm started going off like crazy.

Marvel: *answers his comm*

Batman: “Marvel. Watchtower. Now.”

Marvel: “Huh? Why did I do something wrong?”

Batman: “You went AWOL for three weeks, and then the first sign we find that you’re alive is a video of you partying at a Mardi Gras parade in Brazil. I really wonder what you did wrong.”

Billy was straight speechless for a solid minute. Three weeks? Three weeks? The memory gap was way bigger than he thought.

Marvel: *trying to find words* “I- I’m gonna be honest I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

He honestly felt like crying. Genuine, ugly, crying. Because now he knows it’s gotten to a point where he can’t shrug this off anymore. He could do one day. He could do two days. He’s even gone a week before. But three weeks? That’s nearly a month and he doesn’t remember anything. Billy was now being forced to acknowledged how big of a problem this was.

By now, he had stopped, still floating in mid air.

Batman: “Is that you confirming you were too intoxicated to reach out to us or-”

Marvel: “Mr. Batman Sir, I really can’t talk right now.” *can feel himself starting to hyperventilate* “I’ll come by later. I promise.”

Batman: “No, not later. Immediately. We all want a word with you.”

Marvel: *grimaces* “I’m sorry. I just really can’t right now. I’m really sorry.” *hangs up*

Billy just started hyperventilating after that. His chest felt tight, his world felt like it was one the brink of crashing down. He needed to go see the wizard. He needed help. The wizard could definitely help. So, he went to the rock.

Wizard: *sounds solemn* “I’m sorry, Billy.”

That was literally all the old man told him before he started talking about how the gods were starting to exert more of their influence on him. And he basically had no say, say in some of the things he would start to do from now on. Just when Billy’s life couldn’t get harder. Please, Gods, give him a break.

[muniimyg]

♡ 04: how you're lookin' at me, yeah, i know what that means and i'm obsessed

series m.list // taglist

note: a wild ride…. good luck y’all ,, THANKS FOR 1K 😻 my kitty is happy !!! hauwhahahahaa this part is lengthy so pls take a mfking SEAT. pls lmk what y’all think ,, send in asks 🫵 we’re headed towards the finale 💛 much wuv !!

warnings: tension/tampo vibes (whats that in english? lol) ,, male masturbation (jk gets himself off as he recalls oc slapping him) ,, jealousy (lots of it. like 90% of this part is filled with it) ,, oc has a hickey ,, angst ,, and a little mwaamwaaaa moment :')

//

life sucks. 

for jungkook, at least. 

it’s been almost a month since the incident, and you’ve done everything in your power to avoid him.

the memory of the fight—the words exchanged, the way he said your name—still lingers in the air between you like smoke, suffocating and inescapable.

at first, jungkook tried.

he texted you the next day and every day after that. his messages were hesitant and apologetic... and each one was left unanswered.

nerd [11:11PM]: ___, can we talk? sent nerd [11:28PM]: please? sent nerd [12:01AM]: i’m sorry. i mean it. sent nerd [12:03AM]: it wasn’t even like that. not with her.  sent nerd [1:09AM]: ik i’m gonna sound like a total douche no matter what so let me do it please sent nerd [1:15AM]: let me say sorry, let me fuck up, let me make it up to u sent nerd [2:01AM]: i really hate begging  sent nerd [2:01AM]: but i really hate u not wanting me even more seen

he did try to call though.

just once.

the ringtone barely lasted before he hung up, realizing how futile it was.

at one point, he showed up at your favorite coffee shop one afternoon. he sat alone by the window with an untouched drink, waiting. 

his eyes flicked to the door every time it opened, a glimmer of hope lighting his expression for a split second before fading when it wasn’t you.

after two hours, he left.

but now, almost four weeks later, jungkook has stopped trying (so hard).

it wasn’t a sudden decision, more of a gradual acceptance that whatever connection you’d shared—whatever you’d been to each other—was slipping through his fingers.

he told himself you needed time, that maybe this space was what you wanted, what you deserved. and so, he gave it to you.

he told himself it wasn’t the end. 

it couldn’t be.

he refuses for it to be. 

this is just… complicated. 

he gets that.

he's a smart guy after all!

but late at night, when the world was quiet and he was left alone with his thoughts, the weight of your absence pressed against his chest like an ache he couldn’t soothe. it... burns? it throbs in this aching rhythm that he can't quite figure the melody to.

jungkook thinks about the way you banter with him and how much it makes his day. how closely you sit next to him. how effortlessly you mesmerize him… 

how you flirted with him for a few days and now he's malfunctioning. how he spent the last month memorizing every detail of those days and can't get over it. he has convinced himself you're into him...  

like, remember how your fingers would brush his when you handed him something? that meant something, right? or how about the way you looked at him and tilted your head? shit, yeah.

that meant something.

fuck, the way you laugh and throw your head back and he gets a glance at your perfect neck—how he wants to leave kisses on it. how he… 

how he had you. 

for a moment, he really had you. 

under him, tangled, and messy. 

how he was so close to your lips. 

he should’ve kissed you. 

he should’ve locked the fucking door. 

he should’ve ran after you even more. 

but he didn’t…

and now? 

now you aren’t even around. 

he recalls what taehyung said to him night at the arcade. taehyung's words rub into his wound like salt. it stings. it makes him feel sick to his stomach and he just... get can't stomach it.

“she isn't gonna stick around forever... especially with all the shit you pull…”

there are no words to describe how incredibly helpless he feels.

if anything, he goes through circles in his mind; completely in disbelief he could fuck up this bad with you.

he hates that he can't think straight. he hates that he can't study properly. he hates that he stopped tutoring and even got in trouble with his profs for letting them down (they really counted on jungkook to help other students out).

he hates that he can't fucking breathe lately.

he can't sleep.

he can't eat.

jungkook hates the growing distance, but more than that, he hates how much it hurts.

he hates how much he wants to fix things even when he doesn’t know how. he just knows he wants to. god, fuck it—

fine. 

he hates how much he misses you.

but most of all, he hates that he was wrong. 

it was entirely his fault. 

jungkook hates it all.

by chance, you and jungkook run into each other. 

the scene is perfect.

it's the perfect set up to cry over when you get home—that is.

the rain starts just as you’re leaving the library, soft at first but quickly turning heavier. you don’t expect to see him—not here, not now—but there he is, standing under the awning of the café across the street, shaking out his umbrella. the door chimes as you step outside, and he looks up.

for a moment, neither of you move, caught in the heavy stillness of the moment.

jungkook freezes when he sees you. 

his eyes widen briefly, then soften into something cautious, hesitant. he tucks his hands into the pockets of his hoodie, fingers flexing nervously against the fabric as he steps forward.

“hey,” he says, his voice careful, like he’s offering a truce.

the sound of him makes your heart clench, the warmth in his tone threatening to undo you. but you don’t let it show. you nod once, lips pressed into a thin line, and move to step around him.

“wait—” his hand shoots out, not to grab you, just to stop you. his fingers hover midair, unsure if he even has the right to reach for you anymore. “___, please?”

the rain is falling harder now, pooling on the sidewalk and soaking into the edges of your shoes. you glance at him, taking in the way his hair clings to his forehead, the way his hoodie looks just a little too big on him, like he hasn’t been sleeping well or eating much.

“can you not pretend like this is a coincidence?” you ask quietly, refusing to meet his gaze. 

he stays silent. 

it wasn’t. 

truth be told, he’s been waiting outside for almost 45 minutes. he didn’t even know if you were at the library today… he just had to wait and find out for himself. 

"do you have an umbrella?" he asks, breaking the silence. 

"what—"

"here." 

he cuts you off, pushing the umbrella toward you.

you blink, startled, as he places the handle firmly in your hand. your fingers wrap around it instinctively, the metal cool against your palm.

"jungkook—" you start, your voice faltering.

he shakes his head, stepping back into the rain without a word. the downpour hits him almost instantly, soaking through his hoodie as he shoves his hands into his pockets and starts walking away.

you stand there, the umbrella trembling in your grip, watching him go. the rain comes down harder, cascading off the awning above you, but you barely notice. your gaze stays locked on him—on the way his shoulders hunch against the storm, on the slow but steady steps that carry him farther and farther away.

something tightens in your chest. 

maybe it’s regret or maybe longing… but as his figure grows smaller and the storm swallows him—you feel it.

the warmth of his lingering presence and the chill of it all—

—of your favourite almost.

a few days later, jungkook finds his umbrella in his bedroom. 

he takes out his phone to send you a text, prepared to humiliate himself and to beg for a second of your attention. he’d trade all tonight’s focus for a moment of you.

just as he picks the umbrella up, he finds a note. 

___ told me to give it back to you. she says thanks (whore). ps: she said don’t text her. — taehyung

jungkook sighs. 

does he listen? 

obviously not. 

nerd [6:19PM]: don’t tell me what to do  nerd [6:20PM]: i hate this nerd [6:21PM]: u should’ve jus kept the umbrella. giving it back to taehyung and telling him to tell me not to text u is sick.  seen. nerd [6:22PM]: reply pls seen.  nerd [6:26PM]: fine. i’ll jus talk to myself  nerd [6:31PM]: i miss u sm i jerked off the other night thinking abt the way u slapped me  seen nerd [6:33PM]: come on, kitty  nerd [6:34PM]: promise to think abt me tn :(  nerd [6:35PM]: cos i’m gonna think abt u tn nerd [6:36PM]: ignore me if u want proof  typing…  nerd [6:37PM]: kitty? seen nerd [6:40PM]: fuck. nerd [6:41PM]: how do u get me so fucking hard thru text? maybe i jus miss u too much  nerd [6:42PM]: excited for my proof?  seen nerd [6:45PM]: ft?  seen nerd [6:46PM]: keep seenzoning me and i’ll cum typing... seen ___ has notifications silenced

but it's too late.

jungkook meant it.

he's sat on his gaming chair, cock heavy.

his phone is out with that group picture from the arcade (zoomed into you) as lewd thoughts of you fill his mind. jungkook runs his thumb across his tip, hissing at the way it feels over his slit. 

he flicks his wrists, gripping his dick with just enough pressure to grow the hardness. it’s already stiff and he can feel the need to cum—but he just can’t.

he can’t without thinking of you. 

so, his eyes flutter shut as his memories of you replay in his mind. 

from the way your lips winced when he ate you out—to the way that mini skirt looked on you that day. he thinks about the way you say his name; in any and every way. angry, teasingly, and desperately… he thinks about how pretty it sounds rolling off your tongue. 

how pretty you looked under him.

how good you smelt when he kissed your neck. 

how close you sat next to him—fingertips lingering... god, what he would do to be close to you again. 

jungkook thinks about the slap. 

how hard your palms hit his cheek and how angry you looked at him. despite the negativity surrounding the situation—he can’t help it. 

you looked so hot. 

it just… gets to him. 

before he knows it, his hand is covered in his sticky cum. 

he’s a loser—a nerd in your words. 

he always has been… and here he is; jerking himself off to the pretty girl he lost his chance with.

the night is supposed to be nothing special. 

for jungkook, it’s just another event for his precious marine conservation club—a fundraiser, a schmooze-fest for potential investors, and a chance to hand out awards to appease the donors. sure, he’s getting an award, but it doesn’t feel like much.

the room buzzes with polite conversation and clinking glasses. jungkook adjusts his tie for the hundredth time, barely paying attention to the speeches and presentations. he stands off to the side with the other club members, blending into the background until his name is called.

“jeon jungkook, for outstanding contributions to marine conservation and innovation. mr. jeon has been working towards innovative chemical solutions for marine conservation, focusing on sustainable practices to protect endangered species like dolphins, and developing eco-friendly alternatives to reduce their environmental impact.”

the applause is polite but hearty.

jungkook steps onto the stage, the spotlight hitting him square in the face. as he accepts the plaque, his gaze instinctively sweeps over the audience—and then it stops.

you’re here.

sitting with the guys, casually chatting like you belong there, like you haven’t been avoiding him for a month and a half (at this point).

his heart trips over itself. 

he’s not even sure if it’s relief or panic or something else entirely, but it rattles him. he forces his attention back to the microphone, holding the plaque in his slightly sweaty hands.

“uh, thank you,” he begins, his voice steady enough, though his pulse is anything but. “our club’s mission has always been to protect and preserve marine life through education, community projects, and outreach. with this award…”

his eyes flick back to you. 

you’re laughing at something taehyung just said, your smile bright, your whole demeanor light and carefree.

“…we want to focus on…”

he falters, the words slipping from his mind as his gaze lingers on you.

“…we want to focus on… f-focus…”

a ripple of laughter spreads through the audience. someone whistles playfully. he blinks, startled back into the moment.

“…focus on sustainable practices and expanding our projects,” he finishes, clearing his throat as heat rises to his cheeks.

you’re laughing too, your head tilted slightly as you join the others. it should make him feel worse, but somehow, seeing you like that—smiling, present—grounds him.

he powers through the rest of the speech, keeping his gaze firmly away from where you’re sitting. when it’s over, he accepts the handshake from the host and makes his way offstage, barely registering the applause.

as soon as the ceremony ends, jungkook doesn’t even think. 

he weaves through the crowd, ignoring congratulatory pats on the back and comments from investors, his eyes scanning for you.

how did you know about tonight?

wait. 

shit.

he’s been texting you every day with random ass updates. of course you know. he’s yapped about it… but why? why did you come? don’t you hate his guts?

you're here so... maybe you don't hate him as much as he has convinced himself you do.

jungkook finds you near the back with the friend group, holding a glass of champagne and listening to hoseok animatedly retell a story.

“congratulations,” you say lightly, lifting your glass in a mock toast. your words are casual, but there's an edge to them, a distance you've kept between the two of you for far too long.

his chest tightens at the awkwardness of your tone, but he nods, his hands slipping into his pockets. the space between you feels impossibly wide now, though only a few feet separate you.

“thanks,” he says, his voice quieter than he intended. “... thanks for coming.”

his gaze flickers to yours for a second before dropping to the floor, and he shifts, a little uncertain, taking a half-step closer.

hesitantly, you inch back. 

his presence is suddenly overwhelming, more than you’re ready for.

“yeah… of course,” you murmur, unsure how to navigate the new dynamic between you two. the tension is thick, but there's something else there too. an unspoken history. “what are friends for, you know?”

he hates that. 

friends. 

yeah fucking right.

jungkook tries to break the tension.

he takes a risk.

he takes a small step forward, hoping you don’t move. this is the closest he’s gotten to you in over a month—he needs this. it’s like euphoria in his veins—being with you again.

he needs this.

“how have you been?” he asks, the question coming out softer than he anticipated. jungkook scratches the back of his neck and continues. “a-are you coming to the afterparty?”

your lips part, a pause hanging between you.

you don’t want to admit how much you’ve missed this. how much you’ve missed him.

but the words slip out, more natural than you expect.

“yeah,” you say, giving him a brief but warm look. “i’ll be there.”

for a moment, your eyes lock, and something shifts. 

it’s like you’ve both forgotten all the walls, the space between you collapsing. he can feel his heart rate quicken, like his knees might give out, but he forces himself to stay grounded, to act nonchalant.

“cool,” he says, trying to brush off the sudden rush of emotions. “i’ll.. i’ll be there too.” he smiles, but it’s the kind of smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes—not yet, anyway.

“i sure hope so,” you laugh. “it’s your party, nerd.”

nerd. 

holy shit. 

never has he ever felt so relieved to hear you call him that. 

as he’s about to say more, taehyung appears out of nowhere, slapping his arm and giving him a congratulatory squeeze. 

“hey, man, nice speech. well deserved,” taehyung says, grinning like an idiot. “what did you want to focus on, again?”

you laugh while jungkook rolls his eyes. he shoves taehyung playfully. 

suddenly, you can’t help but feel the awkwardness settle back in, like something’s shifted again. you feel a pang in your chest as you turn toward the other people nearby, the ones you've been socializing with before jungkook showed up. the buzz of the conversation pulls you away, and you focus on the group, hoping to escape the overwhelming emotions that jungkook’s presence stirs.

jungkook watches you go, his eyes lingering as you slip away from the conversation. 

he can’t help it. 

you’re in his head again.

he looks over at taehyung, catching his eye. 

“hyung, is she coming to the dinner before the afterparty?” he asks, trying to sound casual. his voice betrays him, cracking with just the faintest hint of hope.

taehyung raises an eyebrow, taking a sip of his drink. 

“yeah. excited?”

“no.”

taehyung scoffs. “say that again but take away the lying.”

“fuck off.”

“___’s a good friend, man,” taehyung chuckles, redirecting the conversation. “you’re lucky. you just might be back in her good graces.”

jungkook’s heart skips a beat. 

“really?” he asks, trying not to sound too eager.

taehyung grins, leaning in a little. 

“yeah, but... she’s bringing her little boyfriend with her.”

you’re doing what?

jungkook feels the need to rub his eyes or something.

was taehyung shitting on him? boyfriend? when did this happen? no fucking way. 

jungkook refuses to believe it. 

… yet, the words hit jungkook like a punch to the gut. his breath catches, and his stomach tightens. 

"what?" his voice is barely a whisper, the weight of it settling in. 

"she didn't tell you?"

"we haven't been talking."

"rightfully so."

fuck. 

no. 

he doesn’t want to believe it, but the hurt is already seeping through.

taehyung shrugs, oblivious to the internal storm brewing in jungkook. 

“shit, well... yeah, she’s been seeing him for a while. dunno if they’re officially together, but… guess she’s really moving on. good for her, right? i mean, now you can really focus on just being her friend.”

the air stills. 

the reality of it all comes crashing down. jungkook’s heart sinks, his chest tightening in that all-too-familiar ache. 

that's why you’ve been busy... 

you’ve been moving on.

his fingers curl into fists, the anger bubbling up before he can suppress it. but he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t let his emotions spill out in front of taehyung, even though every part of him is screaming. 

“yeah,” he forces a smile. “i guess.”

as the night goes on, jungkook can’t shake the feeling that he’s lost something he can’t get back. something that’s slipping further away with every step you take, every laugh you share with someone else. and no matter how much he wants to fight for it, he’s afraid it’s already too late.

jungkook doesn’t want to go to dinner anymore.

he has no appetite.

jungkook is already at the dinner when you arrive. 

his mood is off, grumpy but with an undercurrent of sadness that he can’t quite shake. he’s forcing a smile when people congratulate him for the award, but it’s clear it’s not reaching his eyes. the night’s just been a blur of congratulations and polite smiles, but all he can think about who will walk in with you. 

does he know him?

is he gonna be some super cool prince charming?

does he know that jungkook was eating you out just a month ago? 

all valid questions…

however, you arrive a little late, and immediately his gaze searches for you in the crowd. when he sees you, his heart lurches. he spots you talking to someone, and the knot in his stomach tightens.

you make your way to the table, your eyes scanning it before you stop. for a moment, you aren’t sure where to sit. usually, you sit next to jungkook… but the spot is occupied by jimin. 

not by choice.

jungkook had saved the spot for you… you just came too late and he didn’t have it in him to tell jimin to move. but, jimin catches the milli-second exchanged look you have with jungkook and immediately shifts. 

“oh,” jimin begins. “shit, i forgot… didn’t know you were gonna show up so late—”

you chuckle, shaking your head. “it’s fine we’re gonna sit on the other side! by the way,” you pause and push the guy you came with forward. “this is do-hwan. he’s a biochem major and we have a few electives together… um, what else?” 

biochem?

serisouly?

do you have a thing for nerds or something? bro doesn't even look the part. he should be majoring in physics or something even more lame.

jungkook's thoughts cut short when he hears you giggling.

“hi,” do-hwan says with a grins at everyone. then, he turns and extends his hand to jungkook. “jungkook? shit, man. congrats on the award.”

he chuckles, giving jungkook a playful look. “organic chem, huh? i guess someone has to study the pretty side of chemistry.” 

what the fuck does that mean?

jungkook’s ears turn red. 

“yeah,” he grumbles under his breath. “nice to meet you too.”

with that, you and do-hwan make your way to the other side of the table. jungkook watches, his gaze hardening as you take a seat beside him.

he’s trying his best to stay calm and to not show it—not show how absolutely fucking mad this entire thing is.

this is ridiculous! 

his chest tightens painfully at the sight of you sitting with him. his fingers curl into his glass as he watches you laugh and chat with others, inserting do-hwan like you’re some proud girlfriend. 

you've probably known do-hwan like 10 seconds.

and jungkook can’t help it! every word you exchange with do-hwan makes him feel like he’s being crushed from the inside out. 

he’s trying to focus on the conversation happening around him, but his mind keeps wandering, drifting to you.

he watches as you lean in to talk to do-hwan, the way your eyes light up when you laugh at something he says. it’s the same laugh, the same warmth in your smile, but somehow it feels so much farther away from him now—like a memory that he’s trying to hold onto but can’t quite grasp.

he forces himself to look at the group again, but his gaze keeps slipping back to you. every word you exchange with do-hwan makes his chest tighten.

it's like he’s suffocating, and he can’t tear his eyes away. the way he moves so casually, his hand brushing against yours as he reaches for his drink. 

it’s too much.

it’s too familiar.

and then, as you turn your head to respond to someone else, he sees it.

just a flash of it—right there on your neck. 

a small hickey, barely visible, but it might as well be a brand. his heart stops for a beat. the sight burns in his chest, and before he can stop himself, his breath catches in his throat.

his stomach churns violently, a rush of heat flooding his veins. everything feels like it’s collapsing inward. the noise around him fades, and all he can hear is the pounding of his own heartbeat. the world shrinks, and the weight of the jealousy hits him like a truck.

he can’t stay here. 

not like this. 

not with this tightness in his chest, not with the ache in his stomach. the room feels like it’s closing in on him, and he knows—he knows he has to get out.

without a word, he stands abruptly, pushing his chair back. his heart races as he excuses himself from the table, slipping away into the hallway outside the main dining area.

the rest of the table doesn’t seem to notice his sudden departure, but your friends quickly start murmuring, and one of them nudges you. 

"you should probably go check on him," taehyung says, giving you an almost knowing look. “i told you not to bring him.”

you hesitate for a second, then stand, glancing at do-hwan.

“it’s not do-hwan's fault.”

taehyung rolls his eyes at you. 

“you’re playing it kinda mean tonight though,” he tells you. “jungkook’s been miserable. sure he deserves to be dragged through mud for whatever happened and for whatever he said, but this? on his night? i don’t know ___…”

you gulp.

maybe taehyung is right.

but you didn’t intend for it to be like this. you genuinely brought a friend you’ve been spending time with! and, sure… yeah. you’ve been kissing him for a few weeks now, but so what? jungkook has probably been fucking every student he’s been tutoring so why the fuck does this matter?

“___…” taehyung urges you. 

“yeah, yeah… i’m going.” 

you wave taehyung off as you get up from your seat. you excuse yourself and let do-hwan know you’ll be right back.

you find jungkook outside. 

he stands with his back pressed against the cool metal of his car, arms crossed loosely over his chest. you notice that his posture is stiff... like he’s trying to keep himself grounded, but his shoulders still carry the weight of what he’s just seen.

his jaw clenches every so often, like he’s holding something back, but when his muscles tense, it’s almost as if the anger or hurt inside him is too much to contain.

as you walk towards him and he notices you. he runs a hand through his hair, tugging at the ends, clearly agitated. he lets out a slow, shaky breath, his eyes cast down toward the ground as if trying to collect his thoughts. he shakes his head slightly, as if to shake off the frustration that has settled in his chest, but it doesn’t seem to help. 

then, he looks up at the sky, his gaze distant, unfocused, lost in the swirl of thoughts that seem to chase him in circles. his arms drop to his sides for a moment, his fingers flexing and unflexing like he’s trying to release the tension that has built up in his body.

after a long pause, he lets out a frustrated sigh, raking his hand through his hair again, this time pushing it back as he exhales sharply.

his whole stance is restless.

it’s like he can’t quite settle his thoughts or his body, caught between what he feels and the reality of what’s happening. 

he’s trapped in his own head, unable to escape the weight of the situation.

by now, you’re next to him.

are you here to set him free?

“so… have the dolphins ever thanked you for your hard work?” you ask, trying to break both the silence and tension with your light tone. “you do so much for them… ungrateful little brats—you know they’re psychos right? they bully—”

he doesn’t turn around. 

“what’s on your neck?” he asks. “did your boyfriend do that?”

your chest hurts at his words. “he’s not... he’s not my boyfriend.” you swallow, trying to keep your voice steady. “he’s just a friend.”

there’s a long pause, and when he finally turns to face you, his eyes are a mixture of frustration and hurt. 

“the same kind of friend i am to you?”

he’s trying to sound nonchalant, but there’s a tremor in his voice.

you shake your head, not knowing how to explain, not knowing how to make him understand.

“you know what? i didn’t come here to make you feel like this…” your voice cracks slightly. “i didn’t... i don’t want to hurt you. i didn’t want to come.”

he scoffs bitterly.

“maybe you shouldn’t have.”

his words sting, but you can’t back down. 

“what do you want me to do?” you ask, frustrated. “if i didn’t show up, you’d be upset and blow up my phone. now that i’m here, you’re still upset—”

“and this is how you chose to show up?” jungkook raises his voice, turning to you. he steps forward, towering over you. he brings his hands to your hair, pushing it back and leaning in to look at your hickey properly. 

he squints. 

“are you proud of this?” he hisses. “fucking bug bite bullshit.”

“stop—” you snap, cutting him off now. “don’t—”

“okay. sorry, fuck..."

a beat.

"___, i miss you,” he breathes. “i just… shit. can you stay still for a second?”

there’s a long silence between you two, the air thick with things unsaid. jungkook looks like he’s about to say something, but his mouth closes, his frustration evident in the way he grits his teeth. 

instead, he just breathes you in. 

for the first time in a month and a half; jungkook can breathe.

then, he steps away and sighs. 

“think i’m gonna head home first. i… i need some space or something,” jungkook tells you. “let them know for me?”

“y-yeah. sure.”

“okay,” jungkook nods. “i’ll see you later.”

“see you.”

for the first time in a while, jungkook offers you a smile and you return it. 

short and sweet—he takes it. 

he leaves and thinks about it the entire drive home.

when you arrive at the party, you’re still reeling from the brief exchange with jungkook. 

your thoughts are completely a tangled mess. 

from the words he didn’t say to the way his eyes held that edge of something unspoken—it all lingers in your mind like an unsolved puzzle. you thought you had it all figured out…

that you could be fine.

that you could move on—but now, after that moment, you’re not so sure anymore. 

your heart races in a way that you can’t explain. why does it feel like you’re standing on the edge of something—something big, something scary—and yet, you're not sure if you want to fall or pull back?

your mind keeps returning to the way he looked at you, like he was caught between wanting to say everything and nothing at all. it’s not a feeling you can shake off easily.

it’s heavier than you thought it would be.

at the party, you try your best to focus on the people around you. do-hwan is by your side, chatting casually with a few people, most of them strangers to you. some faces are familiar—people from jungkook’s marine conservation club, and others... just people. 

you make your rounds, greeting them politely, exchanging pleasantries, but your thoughts are still drifting back to him. to jungkook. the air is thick with anticipation, and no matter how much you try to focus on the conversations happening around you, your mind keeps wandering.

and then, there he is.

jungkook is standing by the drink table, his posture relaxed but not at ease. 

his gaze flicks to you for a moment, a brief flicker of something—maybe surprise, maybe something more—before he meets your eyes. there’s a tense, palpable moment of silence.

he’s holding a red cup in one hand, his fingers wrapped loosely around it. his other hand rests in his pocket, but his stance is still too rigid... too guarded.

it’s like he’s waiting for something to happen, for you to do something.

he doesn’t smile. 

he just nods at you. 

a small, deliberate movement that somehow feels too formal, too distant.

no words.

just acknowledgment.

you feel the knot tighten in your stomach, the nervous energy in your chest quickening. it’s the simplest thing, but it feels loaded with so much more.

you can’t look away. 

something inside you is aching to go over, to close the space between you, to ask if everything’s okay, to say something—but you're frozen. the tension in the air between you is thick enough to suffocate.

you swallow hard, trying to calm the unease building in your chest, but it's no use.

the silence stretches out, heavy and thick, as you stand there, caught between the desire to run or to take a step closer, not sure if you're brave enough for either.

you take a step back, trying to break eye contact, when suddenly, someone bumps into you from behind. you stumble forward, your feet catching on the edge of a rug, and you let out a startled breath as you lose your balance.

before you can fully fall, a strong hand grips your wrist, pulling you back against something solid. your breath catches as you feel the warmth of someone’s body close to you.

it’s jungkook.

without a word, his other hand slides around your waist, steadying you, his fingers briefly pressing against the fabric of your shirt. the contact is brief but grounding, like the world, slows for a moment, just the two of you, suspended in time.

he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t offer the usual reassuring words. 

his grip is firm, and steady, but he doesn’t linger. as quickly as it happens, he pulls away, his hand leaving your waist just as the tension between you starts to build.

you open your mouth to say something, maybe a thank you, but before the words leave your lips, he’s already moving away, stepping back with that familiar, unreadable expression.

you stand there. 

you’re frozen for a beat longer than necessary. your chest tight as you try to catch your breath… his sudden departure stings more than you care to admit. there’s no time for you to process what just happened, what that touch meant—or didn't mean—before he vanishes back into the crowd.

fuck.

the night only gets louder as more people flood into the house. 

the music thrums through the walls, bass-heavy and relentless, blending with the clatter of cups and the hum of overlapping conversations.

you weave through the crowd, the heat of so many bodies pressed together almost suffocating. your heart races—not from the chaos around you but from the weight of the unspoken tension that’s followed you since you walked in.

you couldn’t bring yourself to drink, though do-hwan had handed you a cup earlier. 

it’s long forgotten somewhere, left behind on a table. you’re too afraid of what a single drink might loosen in you—afraid of saying or doing something you’re not ready for.

you don’t want to make worse what already feels so broken.

“hey.” do-hwan’s voice cuts through the noise, his hand resting lightly on your arm. he pulls you aside to a quieter corner of the room, away from the crush of people. “you okay?”

you nod, a small, uncertain smile tugging at your lips. “yeah. just... a little overwhelmed, i guess.”

he watches you closely, his expression softening as if he’s trying to read between the lines. “you sure? you’ve been kind of quiet tonight.”

“i’m fine, really.”

“you don’t have to be,” he says, and it’s the way he says it—gentle, almost understanding—that makes you crack a real smile. “pretty sure jungkook hates me. pretty sure he’s killed me 10 times in his head in the past hour or so… and he knows all the organic chem shit to make it a really clean murder, you know? “

you let out a weak laugh, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. 

he grins at the sight, his confidence blooming as he leans in closer, his shoulder brushing against yours. 

“there it is,” he says playfully. “i was starting to think you didn’t know how to smile anymore.”

you laugh softly despite yourself, and his grin widens. 

do-hwan then dips his head lower as he talks, his voice dropping slightly, as if the two of you are sharing a secret. it’s intimate in a way that makes your cheeks flush, his proximity unnerving. his eyes flick to yours, and he leans in just a little more.

across the room, jungkook sees everything. 

is it hot in here?

because fuck, he’s burning up.

actually, the entire house is on fire in his mind. 

he’s been watching you for most of the night, though he pretends not to be.

the way do-hwan hovers near you, the way you laugh at something he says—it feels like a punch to the chest. every small interaction between you two is a reminder of what he’s lost, of what he could’ve had if he’d been braver, better.

his grip on his cup tightens, his knuckles white against the red plastic. he can’t hear what you’re saying, but he doesn’t need to. the way do-hwan leans closer, the way his hand brushes your arm—it’s enough to make jealousy coil hot and bitter in jungkook’s stomach. it burns through him, unbearable, as he watches do-hwan dip his head lower, his lips so close to yours.

and then something inside him snaps.

fuck it. 

before he knows it, he’s moving through the crowd, his feet carrying him faster than his mind can keep up. his hand reaches out, fingers wrapping firmly around your wrist just as do-hwan’s face nears yours. you barely have time to process the sudden motion before you’re being yanked back, stumbling slightly into jungkook’s chest.

“what the hell?” do-hwan says, his tone sharp, but jungkook doesn’t even look at him. his focus is entirely on you, his jaw tight and eyes dark with something unreadable.

your breath catches, your heart hammering in your chest as you look up at him, startled. 

“jungkook—”

he doesn’t let you finish. 

his hand wraps firmly around your wrist, and before you can process what’s happening, he’s pulling you away. his grip is steady but not rough, a silent insistence that leaves no room for argument.

“jungkook, wait—” you try again, glancing back at do-hwan, whose confused expression barely registers in the rush of your heartbeat.

jungkook doesn’t look back, his jaw tight and his steps purposeful as he weaves through the crowd, his hand never leaving yours. the air around you feels heavy, the muffled music and chatter blurring into white noise as he leads you up the stairs.

your pulse thrums in your ears as he pushes open a door and pulls you inside, closing it behind you with a quiet but final click. the sudden silence of the room contrasts sharply with the chaos outside, and for a moment, you can only stare at him, your chest rising and falling as you catch your breath.

he finally lets go of your wrist, his hand lingering for a split second longer than necessary before he steps back. his gaze is dark, unreadable, but the tension radiating off him is palpable. the weight of the moment presses down on you, thick and suffocating, as you wait for him to speak.

a moment passes.

then, another.

and another.

and another.

and then—

“dump him.” 

you clearly your throat.

“can’t dump him. he’s not my boyfriend—“

“you and your fucking situationships.”

you gulp.

you hate the way he says it.

situationship… fuck him.

the room feels smaller than it is, the air thick with the weight of the moment. jungkook’s jaw ticks as he stares at you, the sharpness in his voice cutting through the silence.

“you’re… fucking with me, right?” he spits out, his tone teetering between disbelief and frustration. “you can’t be fucking real right now. you were just—”

“i was just what?” you snap, your glare matching his. “no fair, jungkook. i got to hear you fuck some girl, but you don’t want to watch me kiss—”

“did i ask you to?” he cuts in, his voice rising.

“no,” you huff, crossing your arms. “but what are you asking from me right now? huh? jungkook… i don’t understand you—”

“what do you think i’m asking?” his voice lowers, but the intensity behind it doesn’t waver. he steps closer, his presence almost suffocating. “you’re always trying to act like this doesn’t matter. like i don’t matter.”

“maybe it doesn’t,” you challenge, even though the words taste bitter on your tongue.

jungkook laughs, but it’s humorless, sharp. 

“yeah, sure. that’s why you still give a fuck about me fucking—”

you snap. “don’t tell me her name.”

“what?” jungkook grumbles. “is that it? you get to parade around, yelling his fucking name and announcing it to the entire fucking world but i don’t get to tell you about the girl that came onto me for months? do-hwan biochem this, do-hwan that—do-hwan kiss me! is that it?"

"jungkook—"

"fuck, ___... listen to me, okay? let me tell you what i've been rehearsing for the past month and a half.... the girl i declined over and over again and fucked a total of 3 times because i was thinking with my dick is done. okay? if you’re trying to tell me that i fucked up—fine. yeah. i fucked up. but i meant it when i said it’s not what it looked like. ___, it wasn't like that. she spread shit about me being a good tutor and twisted it. how the fuck do you think i feel about myself? how the fuck do you think i feel about you seeing it differently—seeing me differently?”

your throat tightens, and you look away, desperate for a moment to compose yourself. 

“jungkook—”

“tell me how to fix it,” he cries, his frustration spilling over. “tell me what you want, because i’ll do it. i’ll stop tutoring if that’s what you want. fuck, i already did to be honest with you.”

you glance up at him, startled.

“why? that’s not going to change anything.”

“but i have to try…” his voice cracks, and he runs a hand through his hair, his exasperation evident. “i’ll give up anything—whatever it takes. just tell me what you need, and i’ll do it. want me to stop wearing ugly ass shirts? fine. want me to stop saving the dolphins you hate so much—”

“i don’t hate dolphins—”

“you’re scared of them.”

your eyes soften. 

“how’d you know—”

“it’s obvious,” jungkook breathes. “the same way it’s obvious you’re scared of this.”

this...

what even is this?

the silence that follows is deafening. you don’t say anything, and the tension between you stretches taut, threatening to snap. his chest rises and falls heavily, his eyes searching yours, desperate for something you’re not sure you can give him.

he takes another step closer, his proximity making it impossible to think straight.

“say something,” he pleads, his voice barely above a whisper now.

but you can’t.

you don’t trust your voice, don’t trust yourself not to break under the weight of it all. so you stay quiet, the space between you charged with everything unsaid.

the weight of unsaid words and unresolved feelings pressing down on both of you. you take a step back, trying to create some space to breathe, but jungkook mirrors you, closing the distance effortlessly.

then, you look around his room for some kind of break… but it backfires as your eyes meet a plushie, laying on his bed.

hello kitty.

“what’s that?” you ask a little shyly.

jungkook turns his head, feeling a little embarrassed at what you’ve seen.

“what do you think it is?” jungkook asks gently. "___... i... i can't do it. i'm sorry, i can't..."

"can't what?"

"i can't want you," he confesses. "i can't want you when i need you that bad."

he points at the plushie and sighs. "fuck, do you know how stupid that fucking claw machine made me feel? i spent like 1 or 2—"

"hours?" your eyes widen.

he shakes his head. "hundred."

hundred.

you stay silent.

"i'm sorry, ___... for everything. i'm a shithead. i'm mean and incosiderate. i'm a waste of time—i know... but i want you to know that... everything about my life feels so weird without you in it. the past month and half has been absolute hell. it's like... if you're not around, all i do is think about you and it fucks with me. i wonder what you're eating, who you're with, and what you're going to do next... i get excited when you seenzone me. i feel like i can finally breathe when you're near. i don't know what you did and what fucking pavlov doggy shit experiment you did on me—but fuck. woof woof. whatever you want, ___. seriously."

then, you do what you fear.

you give in.

“how am i supposed to trust you,” you start, your voice shaky but firm, “when you’re not even a good friend? you’re always so mean to me, jungkook. think about it… when have we ever been good friends?”

he scoffs, the corner of his mouth twisting into a bitter smile. 

“maybe it’s because i don’t want to be your friend.”

the words hit you like a slap, your breath catching in your throat. 

“what if i want you to be?” 

his eyes search yours, as if trying to figure out if you’re serious. 

“really?” he asks, his voice dropping lower, softer.

“really.”

his gaze flickers down to your lips, then back to your eyes, and his voice drops even lower, a dangerous edge creeping into it. 

you can feel it… you can feel it about to happen. 

“even when i’m about to do this?”

before you can process his words, his hand moves to your waist, fingers curling around you in a way that sends a shiver down your spine. he pulls you closer, the heat of his touch searing through the fabric of your clothes.

his lips find yours in a kiss that’s as sudden as it is inevitable. 

it’s not gentle—it’s firm, deliberate, and entirely consuming. his other hand comes up to cradle your jaw, tilting your head just enough to deepen the kiss. your hands instinctively reach for his shoulders, gripping him as if to steady yourself against the storm he’s unleashing.

when he finally pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, both of you breathing hard. the air between you feels different now—heavier, laden with something you can’t quite name but can’t deny.

when jungkook finally pulls away, the world feels quieter, as though it’s holding its breath. his hand slides up, brushing a loose strand of hair from your face, and he looks at you softly, his dark eyes searching yours. the tender gesture sends a fresh wave of confusion—and longing—coursing through you.

“bad friend,” you scold him in a whisper.

his lips twitch, a soft laugh escaping him as his thumb grazes your cheek.

“don’t do that,” he says, his voice low, almost pleading. 

you raise a brow at him. "do what?"

"don’t friendzone me.”

“why not?” 

“i just kissed you.”

“so?”

“so?” he mimics, his tone teasing, but there’s a sharpness in his voice that makes you squirm. his arms tighten around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer. 

“kitty,” he murmurs, his voice dropping to a rough whisper, “i’m gonna be impossible to get rid of now."

[7s3ven]

SINGLE DAD! X BABYSITTER! READER HAS ME FROTHING OMGG. Even better when the rest of TF 141 is involved

part 1 | part 2 (coming soon - rest of tf 141 introduced)

master list

MDNI 18+

Warnings: big age gap, babysitter! reader, reader is in medical school (but still legal guys)

You told yourself it was just a temporary summer job, something to fill your pockets over the Summer break as you moved into another year of university. Medical bills were not easy to pay off and your old job that paid the bare minimum did not help you in the least. All it taught you was that you had a nasty uppercut (from the time you actually hit someone and got fired).

So, you found yourself standing in front of John Price’s house. You stared up at the tall building, brows raised in surprise. He had understated how big his house was… it even had a garden and a pool. You may as well consider it a mansion.

You quickly rang the doorbell, smoothening out your tight blouse. Your much more appropriate one was in the wash so you prayed whoever answered the door did not notice.

It was a tall middle-aged who greeted you, beard cleanly trimmed and… a hat on his head. “Y/N L/N?” He asked you. You swiftly nodded, softly smiling when he stepped aside.

“So, medical school, huh? Training to become a doctor?” He asks as he brews you a cup of tea while you read over his terms and conditions.

“A surgeon, sir. Not much better, though.” You offer him another smile, hoping to ease the awkward tension.

“Right. Next time I need surgery, I’ll call you up.” He takes a sip from your tea, which you notice but you say nothing. “Just checkin’ the temperature. Wouldn’t want ya to burn yourself.” He hands you the mug, his fingers lingering on your skin for a moment too long.

“I assume this is only a quick job for you? Just away to gain a bit of money to pay those student fees off?”

Your cheeks heat up in embarrassment as you nod. “Yes, sir. I know I should have clarified it but I’m a little desperate at this point. Besides, no retail places want to hire me… after I hit someone.”

Your words intrigued him. He let out a low chuckle as he sat across from you. “Now I’m interested.”

“Well… there’s not much to it… a guy kept staring at my chest. He said some vulgar stuff and next thing I knew, I was punching him.”

Price shrugs, leaning back in his seat. “The lad was askin’ for it. So, what do you think about the job? You’ll honestly be a glorified babysitter. Just do some cleaning and cookin’ here and there and make my baby happy and you’ll get a nice pay check every week.”

It all happened in a blur. You agreed to the job and weeks later, you found yourself at Price’s house more than your apartment. You hadn’t stepped foot into your apartment since two days ago, Price generously allowing you to use one of the guest rooms.

“Lila has a sleepover tomorrow.” Price mentions as you’re reading the instructions on how to make cookies for Lila’s bake sale.

Based on the cooking skills you had seen from Price, you doubted he could bake very well. In fact, all he could cook was steak, which was general knowledge for dads.

“I can drop her off if needed.” You offer while opening the packet of flour only for it to explode in your face. You smacked your lips together, grimacing. “Not a word.” You mutter to Price who’s chuckling under his breath.

“Wasn’t gon’ a say anything, love.” He helps wipe the flour dust off your face, still grinning in amusement.

In all honesty, your relationship with Price felt a little too domesticated, especially right now as you wore a frilly apron he had bought just for you.

“Your skirt’s too short, by the way.” Price grumbles, attempting to tug it down. “You sure no creeps stared at you on your way ‘ere? Wouldn’t want ya in danger.”

You push his hands away from your hips. “Even if people were staring, I’ll just punch them.”

You had tried to maintain a professional relationship with your boss but it was hard when he carelessly manhandled you and treated you like his wife rather than his daughter’s babysitter.

And all professional behaviour came crashing down when he unexpectedly stood behind you as you whisked the cookie batter.

“You look like a coke addict.” Price jokes, referring to the flour that still stained your face. “Like you got it everywhere but up your nose.”

“I can assure you, sir, I have never tried coke unless my friend daring me to snort sherbet counts.”

Price grins at your biting remark, his heavy hands falling to your waist. “Yeah? Heard it doesn’t feel too good with sherbet.”

“Not in the slightest.”

His hands trail dangerously low but you don’t have the courage to ask him to stop… nor do you really want him too. He seems to sense your willingness as he rests his face in the crook of your neck, body pressed up tightly against yours.

You feel more like his spoiled wife than a medical student just trying to pay her bills.

“You’re pretty, ya know that? Surprised you don’ have a boyfriend… or girlfriend. Or partner. Dunno what your label is.”

With shaking hands, you place the bowl filled with cookie batter to the side, afraid you’ll only spill it.

“Never met a woman as soft as you… most think I chased Lila’s mother away. But nah. Her mother ran off, leavin’ me with a baby. Not that I’m complaining, I love Lila… and without her, I wouldn’ have met you.”

You’re reduced to listening to Price’s words, stuck between his larger frame and the marbled kitchen counter.

“Sir.” You whisper but it reaches his keen ears. Everything after that is a distorted blur and you find yourself bent over the counter, clad in nothing but the apron, with Price right behind you.

Price was a mystery to you. How could a man be turned on by something as simple as an apron? Though, he was a single dad so it made sense.

Price is muttering praises in your ears as your knees tremble, threatening to buckle. You never imagined you’d be in your employer’s kitchen, having your back blown out by the man himself.

His hands were hungrily climbing your body, gripping every bit of exposed skin he could find. If it wasn’t for him holding you upright, you would have toppled to the ground in a heartbeat.

You feel Price lift a hand to grip your hair, tugging at your locks. He’s in a desperate stupor but you’re not any better, pushing back your hips to meet his harsh thrusts.

“Gon’ a fill ya up. Give you a baby of yer own. Fuck… be so pretty just like you. My perfect little wife.” He grunts in your hair. You have no energy to correct him; that you’re not actually his wife but you’d have no complaints if he bought you a ring.

If anything, his words spur you on more.

Your chest is heaving by the time you near your release. You’re whining like a damn dog, high pitched noises slipping past your saliva-slicked lips. And you only grow in volume as Price speeds up, pressing his body against your back.

He’s older than you, that’s a fact you knew from the start, but he’s definitely more experienced as well. His well thought out words have the desired effect on you as the coil in your stomach snaps.

Your fluids drip down your exposed legs, hitting the tiles kitchen ground in thick droplets. You hear Price swear under his breath, quickly pulling out and staining your back white.

He doesn’t say anything for a moment as he rests his forehead on your shoulder. Then he leads you towards his bathroom, ushering you inside and handing you a spare set of clothes.

“Imma place your old ones in the washing, yeah?” He mutters, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek before leaving you to wash off.

You sit on the shower floor for a good five minutes, replaying the moment in your head. When you finally cleanse yourself of sweat, you slip Price’s shirt over your head, inhaling the intoxicating smell of his cologne. It was the one you liked too.

His clothes engulfed you as you stumbled back into the kitchen, hobbling a little.

“I guess I’ll… get going then.” You murmur, fidgeting with your hands.

Price reaches out a hand to brush a strand of hair away from your face. Then he nods. “See you tomorrow night, lovie.”

Right, you still had to finish those cookies.

[ohbueckers]

HEART OF A WOMAN. you always end up under me. you know how it goes, don’t be crazy, don’t play dumb with me.

04, CHAPTER FOUR. ONE IN THE SAME / BLAME GAME.

ju speaks. let me finish out my sparks dreams with this fic… hopefully this cures our full on dallas crash outs cause i worked my ahhh off to finish it today. also paige’s view is so much more fun to write lol. pairing. wnba!paige bueckers x fem!oc. warnings. sexual content (filth but war is over).

present day, may 2025.

i knew she didn’t deserve it. i was biting back words i should’ve just swallowed, and she didn’t even flinch. i almost wish she had. instead, she just looked at me, the disappointment clear as day, like she expected no less of me. no type of change. i knew it the second the words left my mouth—i wanted to pull her back, hold onto her and say whatever she needed to hear. it’s always like that. but it was too late. she left, and now it feels like i’m walking a tightrope again, waiting for the next time she’ll decide to speak to me.

that’s probably why, when i see her walk into this bar tonight, i’m done listening to whatever rickea and cam are rambling on about. it doesn’t matter that i’m here with them, celebrating a win. it doesn’t matter that maya’s been trying to make a place for herself in my life, or that i should be trying to figure out if that’s what i want. because the second nai steps in, it’s like she’s the only person here, and we’re right back where we started.

i’m nursing a shirley temple, pretending it’s something stronger, while rickea and cam talk about the game, looking like they’re about to float right off the barstools. i try not to, but i notice the way nai shakes her head, shoots one of those tight little smiles our way, like she’s already clocked the situation—cam, halfway to tipsy and clearly not ready to leave. she sighs, sliding next to her, which inconveniently places her way too far from me. two seats, really. still too far.

kea greets nai happily, and i force myself to acknowledge her with a raise of my eyebrows. cam pulls her into the conversation all effortlessly, and i think this is the most bubbly i’ve seen the blonde. “nai! you should’ve been here sooner. you saw that blowout, right?” she exclaims, her voice a little too loud.

nai humors her with a smile, but i can tell it’s half-hearted. she’s tired, probably came just to pick cam up and call it a night. i’m sure she’d be getting comfortable if it weren’t for me though.

“aw,” she pouts. “they put up a good fight. you ready to—“ i’m wrapping my lips around a cherry when the bartender comes around to nai, grabbing her attention from her main priority. she slides a napkin in front of her, all thirty two teeth on display, looking her in the eye like she’d fuck her. or worse, she already has.

“oh, i’m not drinking tonight,” i hear her say politely, and i almost break my neck to catch a glimpse of the interaction. it’s stupid. believe me, i know, but i can’t stop.

“cutting back? let me just get you a water then,” she chirps, and i try to make sense of the treatment she’s getting. friends? i don’t care. i know all of nai’s friends. i see the bartender’s eyes flicker to me just for a moment, like she’s measuring the situation despite there being two other people here with us. between us. i look down to her name tag. ana. then, with a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes, she’s rounding the same corner she came from.

i follow her figure as she leaves, and cam is the first to say something. “man, this feels just like ‘girlfriend of the week’ all over again.” she laughs, reaching for her half-empty vodka cranberry. the second one she’s had tonight. how many shots were in that thing? nai immediately pushes the glass away from her, and her face tightens just a bit, enough for me to catch it.

girlfriend of the week.

i raise my eyebrows, taking my sweet time as i lean back, swirling the straw around in my shirley temple. nai’s sitting back in her chair too, giving me the perfect opportunity to look straight at her. “girl of the week, huh? sounds like you got a whole rotation set up, nai,” i say, just vague enough to leave room for deniability.

she narrows her eyes at me as she adjusts her posture up off the seat, and i change my position too. “yeah,” cam pipes up, giggling like a school girl, “not that it’s any of your business though, paige,” she jokes, pointing an accusing finger at me. i suppose even through blatant confessions she’s still gotta protect her friend. “i mean, what’s it been, a month?“

rickea, sitting beside me, cringes and looks over, her eyes wide with something like regret. she mouths a quiet “sorry,” tilting her head toward cam like he’s apologizing for her, like she knew this was coming before she even opened her mouth. i squint back at her, barely nodding. i don’t want rickea’s silent apologies, i want an explanation.

nai’s lips press into a thin line, and i can see her fingers tapping rhythmically against the counter. she’s holding herself back, probably biting her tongue. it’s almost impressive, but i can’t resist pushing it just a little further.

“well, don’t leave us hanging, cam,” i urge, resting my chin in my hand, eyes glinting. “elaborate.”

cam’s head whips toward me, then back to nai, who’s gone from tense to downright glacial, her eyes shooting daggers at me like i’ve hit a nerve. cam laughs nervously. “oh, i really shouldn’t,” she says, giving a small, forced chuckle that’s more about backing away from the topic than anything else.

i open my mouth, but rickea seizes the moment, standing up and pulling cam off the stool with her. “come on, you’re due for a refill. let’s go check out the line, huh?” she says quickly, steering her toward the bathroom with a not-so-subtle look back at me, like she’s trying to pull them both out of the blast radius. cam stumbles along, protesting with a, “there’s no—“ that i catch before she’s far enough that i can’t hear her slurred words.

i shift, turning fully toward nailea. my elbows rest heavy on the bar, my hands clasped in front of me like i’m calm, but we both know better. she looks ready to up and leave. “so, what’s good? who is she?”

nai’s brows furrow, and she looks at me like i’ve lost it. “what are you talking about?” she asks, her tone clipped, like i’m wasting her time.

“you heard me,” i press, my eyes locked on her. “ana or whoever the hell else—how many it been? ‘cause you clearly left some stuff out.”

she glares at me a second longer before turning her head away, like she’s done with this conversation before it even started. “you don’t get to ask me that, paige.” i can tell she’s trying not to give me any more than that, but it’d never work.

i tilt my head, pushing myself to the edge of the seat, letting the words roll off. “nah, i think i do,” i say, keeping my voice low, licking my lips. “you can’t give me hell ‘bout maya and then act like i’m outta pocket for asking this. how many, lea?”

she whips her head to me, finally, eyes all annoyed and fiery. it’s clear i’m treading thin ice with her, and i’m completely oblivious to the breaking point. “you don’t want to know,” she argues. “and even if you did, it wouldn’t change a thing. we’re not together. remember?” she reminds with this petty ass shrug, and it makes me wanna—

the bartender, ana, strolls back over then, her timing so bad it feels intentional. she sets the water nai had clearly ordered out of politeness with this heedless smile, as if she can’t read a room. i sit back, biting back whatever i want to throw out next, letting the silence speak for itself.

nai thanks her, avoids eye contact, and she glances between the two of us like she’s trying to figure out the vibe, and i know she feels it, but she doesn’t take the hint. of course not.

“yo,” i say, tilting my head up in her direction, and maybe i shouldn’t have said anything at all. “we’re kinda in the middle of something.” i gesture between nai and i, and she scrunches her face up, probably at the mention of ‘we.’

ana blinks, her smile faltering, but instead of backing off, she has the nerve to look at nai, like she’s trying to gauge if she needs saving or some shit. “you okay?” she asks, her voice all soft, like i’m not sitting right here.

the audacity.

“she good, bro,” i cut in before nai can even think about answering for herself, my words quick and clipped. i throw in a tight smile for effect, but it’s not doing much to hide the clear attitude i’d just given her. “appreciate the concern, though.”

ana’s face shifts, her smile completely gone now, and she stares at me for a beat too long before nodding awkwardly, fingernails tapping against the counter. “alright, uh, just let me know if you need anything else,” she mumbles, finally walking away.

i don’t feel any better watching her leave. i clench my jaw, that sharp burn in my chest flaring up again. nai’s silence digs into me. why isn’t she saying anything? yelling that it isn’t my place?

i glance over at her. she’s not looking at me. not even at the glass of water sitting untouched in front of her, and then she moves. quiet and deliberate, she stands, slinging her bag over her shoulder without so much as a glance in my direction. i furrow my eyebrows in confusion. she’s leaving? she’s leaving.

“nai.” my voice is low but filled with enough stern to catch her as she turns toward the exit. she doesn’t stop, doesn’t pause, doesn’t give me anything.

i shouldn’t follow her. i know i shouldn’t. i should’ve just left it at that. but theres several parts of me that can’t leave her alone no matter how hard i try to respect her wishes. it’s a continuous thing. a bad habit, really.

but the second she pushes through the door, i’m up. the chair scrapes loudly against the floor as i shove it back. i drop a twenty next to my drink, and before i can think better of it, i’m heading after her.

the air outside feels no less suffocating than it did in the bar, warm and sticky like its clinging to my skin. nai’s halfway across the lot already, her pace quick and determined as she beelines for her car. my legs are much faster than hers though. her keys are clutched tightly in her hand, the sound of the fob unlocking her door breaking through the quiet.

“nai,” i call, my voice on the rise as i stride toward her. she doesn’t stop.

“nai!” i know her well enough to see it—the way her shoulders stiffen, the slight hesitation in her stride. she hears me. she just doesn’t want to. it says everything: leave me the fuck alone, paige. i can even hear her voice say it in my head.

but i’m not gonna listen. obviously.

“i wasn’t done talking to you,“ i say, the frustration etched across my entire face.

she stops and exhales sharply, jaw tightening as she drops her keys to dangle loosely from her fingers. her other hand is gripping the strap of her purse like it’s the only thing keeping her upright. she’s quiet, just angling her body toward the car like she’s going to keep pretending i’m not here.

not happening.

“aight.” i nod, lips pressed into a thin line. “the hard way?” it’s less of a question, more of ‘i know how this is about to go.’ i shift, stepping in front of her car door, my lanyard swaying out of the pocket of my sweatpants with the motion.

she glares up at me, and her head tilts just slightly, like she can’t believe i’m doing this. again. “get out the way,” she says flatly, though she knows those four words won’t do much to get me to do what she wants.

i’m not letting it go this time. “can you stop tryna’ leave when things get tough? you love walkin’ out on me instead of talk—“

“i left because i don’t want to do this again! i’m done trying to figure you out, and i’m done listening to you lie to me, paige,” she yells, and i swallow down the stern cut-off i planned to give her. “i can’t trust you.” she emphasizes every word, and i know there’s no quick fix, no easy answer. she’s right. i’ve given her every reason not to trust me.

i wish i could take it all back—the lies, the bullshit, the nights i wasn’t what she needed. but i can’t. and now i don’t know what to do, what to say, to make her believe that i wouldn’t do it again if i was given another shot.

“i know i messed up,” I finally say. it’s not the defense i’m used to putting up, not the sharp rebuttal i usually throw out. but i can’t fight her on it, it’ll only make her put both feet out the door.

she scoffs, shaking her head. “you can’t even fucking help it either.” she isn’t holding back. “you’re stubborn, you think shit is a game half the time, you don’t ever follow through…”

she’s rambling now, telling me how much of a piece of shit i am. she’s doing it so effortlessly, like she’s been rehearsing this in her head for months, years maybe, and somehow, someway, it doesn’t effect me when i hear her say it. not in the way it should.

i already know these things. i’ve heard it all before—hell, i’ve told myself most of it. but hearing it from her? the way she’s spilling it all out in dim light of this parking lot like she’s trying to exorcise me from her life for good? it should for the least bit sting. should make me feel guilty. but all i can think about is how good she looks when she’s angry, how her eyes flash and her chest rises and falls.

how she’s putting all her energy into this argument because she cares.

i run a hand down my ponytail, exhaling through my nose. “you done?” i interrupt.

she lets out a humorless laugh, shaking her head again, her hair falling into her face before she pushes it back with a sharp motion. “no, i’m not done, paige,” she snaps, and i nod my head, crossing my arms over my chest as she continues. “i’m so fucking tired of this—of you. of us. you don’t get it. you never get it. and i could leave you alone. block you, never speak to you again, but—“

i shift on my feet, licking my lips. “but you don’t wanna,” i finish for her.

she quirks a brow at me. “don’t tell me what i do and don’t want.” i want to laugh, because of course that’s how she’d respond. it’s probably how i would too. the irony isn’t lost on me.

“we’re the same,” i say.

her head jerks back slightly, confusion flashing across her face. “what?”

“we’re the same,” i repeat, meeting her gaze head-on. “that’s why we keep coming back to each other, nai. why we can’t let go. what are the odds we found each other again in la? you know it just as much as i do.”

she stares at me, lips pressing into a tight line, her eyes narrowing as if she’s trying to figure out whether i’m full of shit or actually making sense for once. she doesn’t say anything, doesn’t move, but i can see the wheels turning in her head, the way she’s trying to process what i just said.

“i’m not saying i’m perfect,” i add, stepping closer, lifting my body up off her car as i drop my voice lower. “i’m not. i fuck up. a lot. but i’ve always come back to you. always. and you? you always been there too, even when you’re mad, even when you’re hurt. we keep coming back because we don’t wanna lose this. each other.”

her lips part, her breathing uneven as she shakes her head again, though there’s less conviction behind it now. “don’t—” she starts, her voice trembling just slightly. “don’t do that. don’t make it sound like this is some… fate bullshit or whatever. it’s not. it’s messy, and it’s fucked up, and you—”

“me what, nai!?” i yell, and i think i’m just tired of her singling me out in all this like it hasn’t been a two-way street this entire time.

she squints at me, stepping closer, but i don’t back down. we’re closer now. too close. “you don’t get what it feels like to keep trying to love someone who doesn’t know how to love you back.” fuck. “you say all the right things, and then you fuck it up every single time.” her voice is calm, almost like she’s sick of yelling.

i feel my jaw clench involuntarily, and she’s getting me heated without trying. “that’s not true…” i start, but she doesn’t let me finish.

“shut up,” she snaps. “you think chasing after me, spitting a whole bunch of nothing about how we’re meant to be is gonna be the bandaid for all of this? you don’t even care about how much you’ve hurt me, paige. you never did.”

“that’s not fair, you know it,” i fire back. “and stop barkin’ at me like that.”

“or what? what are you gonna do?”

my hands are on her. her hips more specifically, guiding her over until she’s pinned against her the metal of her civic. she doesn’t fight it, even though she can’t with the way i’m handling her. her body flattens against it. “you know what i’m gonna do, nai?” i glance over her head, my eyes scanning the parking lot. still empty, just like when we got here. no headlights. no newcomers pulling in to park next to her car, not at this time of night.

her expression doesn’t waver. chin raised. lips tight. eyes locked on mine, daring me to follow through and say something that’ll only piss her off more. but i’m not giving her that. instead, i move my hand up under her jaw, forcing her head up to look at me. she whimpers, not expecting it.

i lean down, lips ghosting over her cheek. “i’m gonna remind you why you always come back.” her eyes have stayed on me, and she looks furious, hands glued to her sides.

but i’m not the one to initiate the crash of our lips, the sloppy spit exchange, she is.

her hands move to my shoulders, pulling me closer, pressing her body into mine as if she’s trying to meld with me, trying to make this real again.

“you’re so…” it’s rough, a collision of teeth and tongues as she pulls me deeper, her body pressing me harder against hers. “fucking annoying,” she breathes. i tighten my hands around her hips, guiding her to move in sync with me, and she lets out a, “fuck,” finalizing her frustrations that only pushes me further.

“okay,” i nod, tugging at her bottom lip as i pull away, just enough to look into her eyes. “you can talk all the shit you want in this backseat.”

without waiting for a response, i take a few steps and pull the car door open, the interior lights flickering on over a whole area practically ready for us. begging us to fall into it. she hesitates, glancing inside and then back at me.

she smiles, a slow, knowing grin, and that’s all i need to see. without another word, she moves around me, slipping into the car. i lick my lips, smiling to myself as i follow her in, the door shutting softly behind me.

the lights are off just as quick.

we’ve done this enough times that she knows the drill. she slides the front seats up, making room for me to stretch out, spreading my legs wide to take up the space. i get comfortable, resting my head back, and my hands have already found her hips again, pulling her to straddle me.

she takes her time, teasing me in a way i’m starting to crave. when she finally settles over me, i waste no time pulling her closer until our bodies are flush, and i can feel her against me—the warmth of her cunt through the thin pair of panties she’s wearing.

the worst part? i’ve been thinking about what’s under this jean skirt since she walked in that fucking bar.

i grin like an idiot as my head lolls to the side, my lips pulling into a smirk as she leans down to cup my face with one hand. our lips crash together again, more sloppy than the first. it’s desperate, and feels so good. there’s something else there, too—something that makes me want more. every inch of me is focused on the way her mouth moves against mine, how she’s making me lose control all over again.

braaking away from the kiss, i trail my lips down her neck, sucking and biting gently. she grinds her hips against me, and all i don’t think about claiming her with a few marks just to be cheeky, i do.

“tell me how bad you want it,” i whisper, breath fanning over the now sensitive parts of her skin. i pin her hips in one spot, and she whines slightly, not being able to do anything to get herself off.

“don’t make me, p,” she mumbles all seductively, and my eyes meet hers in the way that normally mean i’m not fucking around with her.

she realizes, and her tongue darts to the corner of her mouth. “want your fingers…” she trails off, eyes trailing down to where my crotch is. she brings her own hand down, and i shift, sucking in. “inside of me,” she finishes. “please, paige… make me come.” she presses deeper, and i swear she’s just about the only one who knows exactly how to keep me on my toes.

“mmm.” i roll my head back to her, biting down on my lip as i hike her skirt up over her ass with both hands. i let them roam before placing one right underneath her, pushing her panties to the side. i find her wetness quick, pressing my middle and index finger through her folds. “here?” i tease as i start stroking.

she nods, arching against my hand, and i can already tell she’ll be struggling to stay upright. she throws her head back instead, letting her pants fog up the windows. “i’ont think i heard you, baby,” i taunt, biting down on my lip and circling just a little slower.

her hand wraps around my wrist, practically pushing me deeper into her. “yes, there, you ass,” she mumbles all breathless. i chuckle, feeling my body getting hot as i slip both fingers in, lips parting at the squelching sound that begins filling the car. she grinds down, making me dig even deeper.

i’ve hooked my other arm under her thigh, keeping her from going too far as i pick up a rhythm that has her losing it. her body moves like it’s made for this, like it knows how to follow my lead without even thinking about it. her pretty eyes flutter shut, and i feel her tighten again, clenching around me like she doesn’t wanna let go. she can’t.

“so fuckin’ tight. you like when i stretch you out?”

with her acrylics digging into the side of my neck, she begins bucking her hips, licking over her plump lips with a whine. “love it, p. feels s’good—shit,” she gasps, her normally doe, wide eyes all blown out from the pleasure.

“mhm? that good?” i bite on my lip so hard i swear it might bleed, moving my fingers all the way out and ramming them back in repeatedly. her breaths are shallow, uneven, and we’re doing just about the same amount of work. “show me how good, ma. show me you’re mine.”

i follow her gaze, looking for her eyes before she drops her head with a pathetic whine, picking up the pace of her hips, and the way her tits bounce in that top have me physically refraining from getting her more messy than she already is.

her hands start to trail up my body, and i feel the fabric of my shirt shift as her fingers slide underneath, her palms warm against my skin. she pushes it higher and higher, her movements unhurried, leaving the end of it bunched up in her hands, resting on my chest. i can’t help it—i flex, my muscles tightening under her touch, and her eyes drop, watching the way my body reacts to her.

her forehead leans further into my neck. “paige…”

i adjust my grip, sliding deeper, and she reacts instantly, her nails scratching at the back of my neck like she’s trying to hang on. my hand moves slower now, but with more purpose, every little motion driving her higher. “yeah,” i mumble gravelly, right against her ear. “c’mon, talk to me, baby. lemme hear you.”

her body jerks, like my voice alone is messing her up, and i can’t help the smirk that spreads across my face. my lips find her jaw, then dip to her neck, dragging open-mouthed kisses down her skin that are more-so like licks, tasting her. i want her to feel this everywhere—every touch, every word, everything i’m doing to her right now.

i scissor my fingers wider, and her hips grind against my hand faster, chasing it like she’s got no choice. “don’t stop,” she whimpers, her voice cracking, and it makes me damn near lose it. “please. fuuuck.”

i lean back just enough to make her look at me, my fingers not letting up for even a second. she’s completely wrecked, her lips parted, breathing all over the place, and it’s a sight i’ll never forget. “aight,” i say, my grip tightening on her thigh as i furrow my eyebrows, chewing on my lip for some relief. “i got you. you almost there, pretty? c’mon, you know you wanna come.”

nai nods feverishly, and i can already see some of her wetness spilling out of her with every thrust, seeping into my sweatpants. she screws her eyes shut, a loud moan spilling out of her mouth, and it fuels me, my fingers working her just right.

“this?” i growl, curling right up under that deep sticky patch that’s gonna send her right over the edge. “that’s me. you feel that? nobody else. just me.”

“paige. shit. stop that—“ she gasps again, and i can tell she’s right there, hanging on by a thread. my thumb presses harder against her clit, my fingers curling deeper, and i lean into her ear again, my voice coming just over the sex sounds. “say it. say you’re mine, baby. don’t act shy now.”

her eyes snap open, locking onto mine, wide and glossy, like i’ve pulled something raw out of her. “i’m yours,” she chokes out, and it’s all she manages before her body locks up, trembling hard as she falls apart in my arms, completely wrecked.

i hold her through it as her breath stutters against my neck, my hands steady, my lips brushing over her temple as i mutter, “that’s my girl.”

her breathing slows, and she stays close, like she’s tethered herself to me, and i let her. my hand pulls out of her, moving to soothe the small of her back in lazy circles, my head tilting to press my lips to her hair. her scent clings to me—sweet, familiar, and i wouldn’t want it any other way. it’s dangerous.

“you good?” i ask, a little quieter now, dipping into something softer, something i don’t let just anyone hear. only her.

she nods faintly against my shoulder, and i can feel her heartbeat slowing down, her chest rising and falling as she tries to steady herself. her hands grip my shirt like she’s afraid i’ll pull away, so i stay, holding her just a little tighter, letting the silence stretch between us.

finally, she pulls back, just enough to look at me. her face is flushed, her lips graced with this small smile, and her eyes are still shining.

“44.2%,” she whispers.

i blink, knitting my eyebrows together as i smirk slowly. “what?”

“the odds,” she says, rolling her eyes as a grin pulls wider across her flushed face. “that you got drafted here. that we found each other again in la.”

i smile. not because she looks stupid for remembering that or even because it’s the first thing she thought of after everything we just did, but because it’s not fate, it’s us.

[bestofmultiverse]

Roses 🥀

Kathryn Hann x fem!florist!reader

A/N: Ive written it pretty drunk so idk what make sense at this point (I'm still pretty drunk)

Week 1

The market buzzed gently with life in the crisp morning air. It was early, the sun just beginning to cast its warm glow over the stalls. Y/N stood at her flower stand, dressed in her favorite comfortable jeans, her hair swept into a messy updo, with a few stray pieces rebelliously escaping the floral clip she’d used.

Vendors greeted each other as they set up their stands, the atmosphere familiar and friendly. Y/N chatted with Darren, the tall young man at the neighboring vegetable stand, who was enthusiastically recounting his latest adventure with his horse, Rhody.

Her attention, however, was soon caught by a sight that made her lose track of Darren’s words. A woman—possibly the most beautiful woman Y/N had ever seen—was walking through the market. Her long brown hair shimmered under the sunlight, and her radiant smile lit up the space around her. She wore oversized sunglasses, but even from a distance, her presence was magnetic.

Y/N’s breath caught when the woman paused in front of her stand, inspecting the flowers with an appreciative smile. Excusing herself from Darren with a quick word, Y/N approached her, offering one of her own dazzling smiles.

“Hey,” Y/N said softly, trying to sound casual.

The woman looked up and returned the greeting with a warm, “Hey.”

“I noticed you’ve been eyeing the white roses,” Y/N said, nodding toward the blooms. “They’re beautiful, aren’t they?”

The woman glanced at the flowers, then back at Y/N, her lips curving into a small smile. “They are,” she admitted.

“They symbolize purity, innocence, and new beginnings,” Y/N explained, her voice light but confident. “They’re one of my personal favorites.”

The woman’s smile deepened, and for a moment, Y/N thought she saw the faintest blush on her cheeks. “That feels fitting,” the woman said, her tone thoughtful. “New beginnings, I mean.”

Y/N tilted her head, intrigued. “Good for you,” she said, her own smile bright. “May I ask what it’s about?”

The woman hesitated before slipping off her sunglasses, revealing striking blue eyes that made Y/N’s heart skip a beat. She was breathtaking.

“I’m officially divorced,” the woman admitted, her voice tinged with relief. “The good part of that relationship ended a long time ago.”

Y/N nodded, her gaze softening. “I’m sorry it wasn’t what you deserved,” she said sincerely.

The woman laughed softly, the sound like music. “Well, it’s what I’m leaving behind that matters now.” Her eyes sparkled with a playful edge. “You always give life advice with your flowers?”

Y/N chuckled. “Only when I sense it’s needed,” she replied, her voice dropping into a teasing tone. “It’s a bonus that comes free with every bouquet.”

The woman smirked, tilting her head as if sizing Y/N up. “I like that.”

Y/N grinned, reaching for a bouquet of white roses and wrapping them carefully. Before handing it to the woman, she slipped a single red rose into the mix.

The woman raised an eyebrow, her lips curving. “And what does the red rose mean?”

Y/N held the bouquet out to her with a mysterious smile. “I’ll let you know when you come back next week.”

The woman took the bouquet, her fingers brushing against Y/N’s for the briefest moment. “Next week, huh? Confident, aren’t you?”

Y/N shrugged, her grin widening. “Let’s just say I have a good feeling.”

The woman laughed, her smile lingering

"Im y/n by the way"

"Kathryn" the woman said back before she walked away, leaving Y/N standing at her stand, feeling the warmth of the encounter linger long after she was gone.

Week Two

For the next week, Y/N found herself thinking about Kathryn more often than she cared to admit. She could still hear the soft cadence of Kathryn’s laugh, see the way her blue eyes sparkled when she teased her. It wasn’t the first time someone captivating had passed through her little flower stand, but there was something about Kathryn that lingered, an inexplicable pull she couldn’t shake.

By the time Friday rolled around, Y/N had spent an embarrassing amount of time rearranging her display. She told herself it was for the customers—it was spring, after all, and the flowers deserved to shine. But deep down, she knew she was hoping Kathryn might come back, though she had no real reason to expect her.

The morning passed quietly, filled with regulars buying their weekend blooms and Darren chatting her ear off about his horse yet again. But just as she started to convince herself she’d imagined the connection, there Kathryn was.

She walked through the market much the same as before, her stride confident and her hair catching the sunlight. This time, though, her smile seemed a little brighter when her eyes met Y/N’s.

“Hey there, stranger,” Kathryn greeted as she stopped in front of the stand. She was holding a coffee cup, which she raised in a small salute. “Miss me?”

Y/N leaned against the counter, her lips curving into a teasing grin. “Maybe a little,” she said smoothly. “Though I have to say, the roses you picked up last week looked a little lonely without you here to keep them company.”

Kathryn chuckled, setting her coffee down. “Well, I figured I’d stop by and see what you’ve got this time. Thought I might spoil myself again.”

“Good call,” Y/N replied. “Everyone deserves a little indulgence now and then.” She gestured to the display. “What’s the occasion this time? Another new beginning, or are we celebrating something else?”

Kathryn shrugged, her smile turning a little softer. “Maybe I just needed a reason to get out of the house. It’s been a weird week—quiet, but in a good way.”

Y/N nodded, sensing there was more to the story. “Well, I’m glad you came by. I was starting to think I’d scared you off with all my flower wisdom last time.”

“Oh, please,” Kathryn said, rolling her eyes with a playful smirk. “It takes more than that to scare me.” She paused, her gaze flicking over Y/N. “Besides, you’re fun to talk to. It’s nice… refreshing, even.”

Y/N felt a warmth rise in her chest but kept her tone light. “I’ll take that as a compliment. So, what are we feeling today? Bold? Romantic? A little mysterious, maybe?”

Kathryn laughed, leaning closer to the display as she examined the flowers. “You know, I think I’ll let you decide. You seem to have a knack for this.”

“Oh, dangerous move,” Y/N teased, already pulling together a bouquet. This time, she chose a mix of peonies, for healing and prosperity, and lavender, for peace and serenity. She finished it off with a single deep red rose, placing it prominently in the center.

Kathryn raised an eyebrow when she saw it. “You and these red roses,” she mused, her voice warm with amusement. “Are you going to keep me guessing forever, or do I finally get to know what it means?”

Y/N handed her the bouquet with a wink. “Patience, Kathryn. All good things in time.”

Kathryn shook her head, smiling as she tucked the flowers under her arm. “You’re something else, you know that?”

“I try,” Y/N said, grinning. “But seriously, if you ever need more flower wisdom—or just someone to talk to—you know where to find me.”

Kathryn hesitated for just a moment, then reached into her bag and pulled out a business card. “Here,” she said, handing it over. “In case I need a private consultation or something.”

Y/N took it, her fingers brushing against Kathryn’s as she did. “Noted,” she said softly, feeling that pull again, stronger this time.

Kathryn lingered a moment longer, her gaze steady but kind. “Thanks for the flowers,” she said, her voice quieter now. “And for… well, just being you.”

“Anytime,” Y/N replied, watching as Kathryn turned and walked away, leaving her with the lingering scent of lavender and the promise of something new.

Week Three

The days that followed Kathryn’s visit felt lighter somehow, as if her presence had left an invisible warmth in its wake. Y/N couldn’t stop herself from glancing at the little business card sitting on her counter, its edges slightly frayed from where her fingers had traced it absentmindedly.

By midweek, she decided to take a chance. Pulling out her phone, she stared at the number for a moment before typing a quick, casual message:

Hi, it’s Y/N, your personal florist 😊 Just wanted to check in and see how the flowers are holding up!

She stared at the screen for a beat too long, second-guessing herself, but before she could overthink it further, her phone buzzed with a reply.

Hey, Y/N. They’re beautiful, just like last time. You have quite the touch.

Y/N smiled at the response, feeling a little flutter in her chest. She quickly typed back.

Glad to hear that! Let me know when you’re ready for your next bouquet.

Kathryn’s reply came just as fast.

How about tomorrow? I could use a reason to step out again—and maybe some more of your flower wisdom.

Y/N’s heart did a little flip.

Tomorrow it is. Same time as last week?

Perfect.

The next morning, Y/N arrived at the market a little earlier than usual, taking extra care to set up her display. She arranged everything just so, the vibrant colors of tulips, daisies, and roses creating a cheerful splash against the wooden crates.

By the time Kathryn arrived, the market was already bustling. She walked up with her usual confident stride, her hair swept back in a loose braid and a light jacket slung over her shoulders. Y/N couldn’t help but admire how effortlessly she carried herself, a mix of ease and grace that was undeniably magnetic.

“Hey, Y/N,” Kathryn greeted with a smile that instantly brightened the morning.

“Hey, Kathryn,” Y/N replied, her own smile matching the warmth in Kathryn’s voice. “Here for more flower therapy?”

“Something like that,” Kathryn said with a chuckle. She leaned lightly on the counter, her blue eyes twinkling. “I’ve decided I’m going to make this a weekly tradition—though I’m pretty sure I just come for the company at this point.”

Y/N felt her cheeks flush, but she kept her composure. “Well, I’ll take that as a compliment. What are we celebrating this week?”

Kathryn shrugged, her expression thoughtful. “Not sure it’s a celebration, exactly. I’ve been spending a lot of time rediscovering what I like—figuring out who I am outside of that old chapter.”

“Sounds like a celebration to me,” Y/N said, her tone soft but earnest. “Starting fresh is always worth celebrating.”

Kathryn tilted her head, her smile growing. “You always know exactly what to say, don’t you?”

Y/N grinned. “Occupational hazard, I guess. Now, let’s find something that suits this new chapter of yours.”

As she worked, Y/N felt Kathryn’s gaze linger, warm and steady. She chose a bouquet of daisies for simplicity, yellow tulips for cheer, and added a few soft pink carnations for gratitude and admiration. To finish, she tucked in another single red rose, letting it stand out.

Kathryn noticed immediately, her lips curving into a sly smile. “Another red rose, huh? Are you ever going to tell me what they mean?”

Y/N handed over the bouquet with a playful grin. “You know you could just Google it if you really wanted to know.”

Kathryn chuckled, shaking her head. “I could, but where’s the fun in that? Besides,” she added, her voice dipping slightly, “I have a feeling it’s worth the wait.”

Y/N’s cheeks flushed, and she quickly looked down, busying herself with arranging the paper wrapping around the bouquet. “You’re dangerous, Kathryn,” she muttered with a laugh, unable to hide her own growing smile.

Kathryn leaned a little closer, her tone teasing but warm. “You have no idea.”

Y/N handed over the bouquet, their fingers brushing again, and looked up to find Kathryn’s eyes fixed on her, soft but searching.

“Well,” Y/N said, her voice steadier than she felt, “if you ever feel like waiting isn’t your thing, you know where to find me.”

Kathryn’s smile deepened, and she tucked the bouquet close to her chest. “I think I’ll enjoy the suspense for now,” she replied lightly, though her gaze lingered for just a moment longer.

“Thanks for this,” she added as she stepped back, the bouquet in one hand and her coffee in the other. “And for making my mornings a little brighter.”

“Anytime,” Y/N said softly, watching as Kathryn turned and walked away, her braid swaying lightly with each confident step. As the crowd shifted and swallowed her figure, Y/N found herself already looking forward to the next week—and whatever surprises Kathryn might bring.

Week Four

The next week, Y/N found herself waiting for Friday with a kind of nervous energy she hadn’t felt in years. She spent her mornings distracted, her evenings restless, and by the time the day arrived, she could barely focus on her usual tasks.

She tried to tell herself it was just another Friday at the market, but the thought of seeing Kathryn again made her heart race in a way she couldn’t ignore.

The day unfolded much like the previous ones, with the usual flow of customers and Darren’s cheerful chatter in the background. But when Kathryn appeared, weaving her way through the busy market, the whole scene seemed to slow.

She wore a light blue blouse that perfectly complemented her eyes, her hair loose and catching the breeze. She had that same confident stride, but this time, there was something softer about her expression, something warmer.

“Hey there,” Kathryn greeted as she approached the stand, her smile as radiant as ever. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”

“Not at all,” Y/N replied, her own smile spreading naturally across her face. “You’re right on time, actually. I just got in some new flowers I think you’ll love.”

Kathryn set her coffee cup down on the counter, her gaze lingering on Y/N. “You always know how to make a girl feel special.”

Y/N laughed lightly. “Just doing my job. So, what’s the occasion this time? Let me guess—another step in the new chapter?”

Kathryn tilted her head, her smile turning a little sly. “Actually, I was thinking about starting a whole new story.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh? And what kind of story are we talking about here?”

“The kind where I stop beating around the bush and ask you if you’d like to go out with me,” Kathryn said, her voice calm but her eyes sparkling with something playful, something hopeful.

Y/N blinked, caught completely off guard. “Wait, are you serious?” she asked, though the grin tugging at her lips betrayed her surprise.

“Dead serious,” Kathryn replied, leaning lightly against the counter. “I know it’s a bit unconventional, but I figured, why not? You’re charming, you’re kind, and you seem to have this uncanny ability to make me smile every time I see you.”

Y/N’s cheeks flushed, but she didn’t look away. “Wow. I mean, I’m flattered. Really flattered. But I thought I was the one supposed to be smooth here.”

Kathryn laughed, the sound rich and genuine. “Don’t worry—you’re still winning in that department.”

Y/N glanced down at the flowers in front of her, a soft smile playing on her lips. “Okay,” she said finally, looking back up at Kathryn. “I’d love to go out with you.”

Kathryn’s smile grew, her eyes lighting up. “Really? I was half-expecting you to turn me down just to keep me guessing.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Y/N teased, her confidence returning. “I’m sure I’ll keep you guessing plenty on the actual date.”

Kathryn laughed again, shaking her head. “I have no doubt, I’ll text you tonight to figure out when we can make this happen.”

“Looking forward to it,” Y/N said softly, her eyes lingering on Kathryn’s.

As Kathryn picked up her coffee and bouquet, she paused, glancing at the flowers Y/N had been arranging. “No red rose this time?” she asked teasingly.

Y/N grinned. “Nope. I’m saving that for the date.”

Kathryn’s laughter filled the space between them, light and warm. “You’re impossible,” she said, but her smile betrayed just how much she enjoyed it.

With a final glance, Kathryn turned and walked away, leaving Y/N standing behind the counter with a heart full of anticipation and a grin she couldn’t shake.

And as the market buzzed around her, Y/N found herself already counting down the hours until their next meeting.

Week 5

Y/N sat across from Kathryn in the cozy, candlelit restaurant, the evening stretching out like a perfect melody. Conversation flowed effortlessly, Kathryn’s laughter bubbling over at Y/N’s quick-witted remarks, and Y/N finding herself leaning in closer as the night wore on.

The single red rose, nestled in the center of their table, seemed to glow in the warm light, catching Kathryn’s eye once again. She tilted her head, a playful smile tugging at her lips.

“Alright, Y/N,” Kathryn said, her voice soft but teasing. “You promised me no more guessing. Are you finally going to tell me what the red rose means, or are we keeping this a mystery forever?”

Y/N hesitated, her confidence flickering just enough to make her cheeks flush. She reached for the rose, her fingers brushing its delicate petals as she carefully avoided Kathryn’s gaze. “It, uh… it symbolizes love and passion,” she admitted quietly, her usual bravado giving way to something more vulnerable.

Kathryn’s smile widened as she leaned forward, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Love and passion, huh?” she echoed, her tone light but her gaze steady. “That’s quite the statement for a first date.”

Y/N chuckled nervously, her cheeks growing even warmer. “I mean, it doesn’t have to mean anything. It’s just… I thought it suited you.”

Kathryn’s laughter was soft and low, a sound that sent a shiver down Y/N’s spine. “You’re sweet,” she said, her voice dipping into something a little huskier. She picked up the rose, twirling it slowly between her fingers as she watched Y/N. “But you know, passion can mean a lot of things.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat at the subtle shift in Kathryn’s tone. She swallowed hard, her voice coming out a touch more uncertain than she’d intended. “Yeah? Like what?”

Kathryn leaned in just enough to close the distance between them, her blue eyes locked on Y/N’s. “Oh, I don’t know,” she said, her smile turning sly. “It could mean staying up all night talking… or something else entirely.”

Y/N felt her stomach flip, her mind racing at Kathryn’s implication. She cleared her throat, trying to play it cool despite the blush creeping up her neck. “I guess it depends on the company,” she managed, her voice soft but steady.

Kathryn’s grin widened, and she reached out to brush a stray strand of hair from Y/N’s face, the gesture so casual yet so intimate it made Y/N’s breath hitch. “Well,” Kathryn murmured, her tone warm and teasing, “I’d say the company tonight is pretty exceptional.”

Y/N laughed, a nervous but delighted sound, as Kathryn leaned back, her expression softening. “You’re impossible,” Y/N said, shaking her head but unable to hide her smile.

“And yet, you seem to like me anyway,” Kathryn replied with a wink. She placed the rose carefully back on the table, her fingers lingering on the stem for just a moment. “Thank you—for the flowers, for tonight, for… everything.”

Y/N nodded, her smile growing as she mustered her courage. “Anytime. And I mean that.”

Kathryn’s gaze lingered on her for a moment longer before she stood, her movements graceful and deliberate. She bent down, pressing a soft kiss to Y/N’s cheek, her lips warm and lingering just enough to make Y/N’s pulse quicken.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” Kathryn whispered, her voice low and filled with promise. “And thank you for being… bold.”

As Kathryn walked away, the red rose still resting on the table, Y/N couldn’t help but smile to herself. Whatever the future held, one thing was certain: Kathryn was every bit as extraordinary as Y/N had imagined—and then some.

[gunnerfc]

Text First Next Time | Alessia Russo x Reader (18+)

Summary: you and Alessia have lived together since she moved to London to play for Arsenal, but it’s still taking some time to get used to having someone else share a space with you

Warnings: smut MINORS DNI!, oral (alessia and r receiving), alessia walking in on reader naked

WC: 1.8K

You hummed to yourself as you moved around the kitchen, fresh out of the shower. You had the house to yourself today since Alessia went out with some of your teammates. The two of you have been friends for a while, and when she made the switch to Arsenal, you offered your spare bedroom to the blonde to make things easier for her. 

It took some time to get used to having someone else in your living space, seeing as you were used to living alone since you left your parent's house. You’re prone to walking around the house bare, knowing no one is going to see you. But with Alessia around, that changed quickly. 

But, the blonde was supposed to be out for a large part of the day, meaning you were free to pick up old habits. You sipped from the glass of water you fixed as your hair dripped water droplets down your body. You were too in your head about the past week of training to clock the front door opening and closing. 

You turned to head back to your room but stopped in your tracks when you were face to face with Alessia. The blonde was red in the face as her eyes tried to look anywhere but your naked body, but she ultimately failed when her eyes glanced down at your bare chest and further down. 

“I, um, didn’t hear you come in,” you forced out, still standing in shock that you were naked in front of your roommate. 

“I-I shouted,” the blonde mumbled, her cheeks red as she met your eyes. Your chest was heaving slightly as you sat the glass down on the counter, and a quiet ‘Oh’ left your lips. 

“I’m gonna go put on some clothes,” you tried to joke as you made your way past the blonde. Her eyes followed you with each step you took, letting her eyes drop down your body once your back was to her. 

When your bedroom door was closed, Alessia let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. The blonde had been harboring a crush on you for a while, and this did not curb her feelings, if anything, it made them stronger. 

You joined her in the living room after you were dressed, both of you sitting away from each other on the couch. “You should text first next time,” you uttered softly, eyes locked on anything but Alessia.

“Right, I’ll, um, remember that,” she nodded to herself as she fiddled with her hands. She shot glances at you out of the corner of her eye, her gaze locked on your now-clothed body. She wouldn’t tell you, but she found the clothes covering your body offensive, having much preferred to see you in nothing. 

“Things aren’t gonna be weird between us, are they,” you sighed as you looked at her, finding her eyes zeroed in on your thighs. 

“Huh,” she blinked as she looked back up, her cheeks red once more. “No, we’re fine! You’re fine! I mean, you’re good, not that you look fine! Not that you don’t look good physically, y’know,” Alessia stumbled out, her eyes closing as she made a mess of her words.

You chuckled softly at her before your eyes dropped to her lips. “Less, did you like seeing me naked,” you teased, watching as her eyes flew open and widened at your words. 

“No! Yes! Damn it,” she huffed as she held her head in her hands. You laughed slyly as you moved down the couch closer to her. 

“Wanna see me naked again,” you smirked once you were right next to her. Alessia mumbled into her hands, but you couldn’t make out what she said. “Say it again for me, Alessia,” you hummed as you pulled her hands away from her face.

“I want… more than just seeing you naked,” she confessed, her voice low as she locked eyes with yours. 

Your jaw hung slightly at her words before you stood from the couch, moving to stand right in front of her. Alessia looked up at you, attentive eyes, watching as you pulled your shirt over your head. You didn’t bother putting on a bra, so Alessia was met with your bare chest once again as you tossed the shirt onto her lap. 

“Sit back,” you pushed her shoulder slightly to get her attention, which she quickly listened and tossed your shirt behind to the floor. You dropped to straddle her hips, grabbing her hands as you moved to rest them on your hips.

Alessia’s breathing picked up when her hands made contact with your warm skin, her thumbs rubbing softly along your hip bone. You pushed down on her hips, grinding softly, earning soft moans from both of you. 

Alessia watched as your breasts moved each time you moved against her, her mouth watering as she fought the urge to lean closer to you. You smirked as you watched her lick her lips before moving one hand to her hair, pulling her closer to your chest, “Go on, Lessi.” 

The forward didn’t need any other instructions; her lips were wrapped around your nipple instantly as she held your body tightly. Your head fell back as you tangled your hand further in her hair, arching your back into her mouth. You moaned, feeling her teeth graze your hardened nipple. 

Alessia pulled away from your breast, a string of spit connecting your nipple to her lower lip. She quickly latched on to your other breast, making sure to give it the same attention. “Fuck, Alessia,” you groaned as you continued to grind your hips. 

After a few moments, the blonde pulled away, panting as she looked up at you with swollen lips. “Could stay here for ages,” she mumbled as she leaned in to kiss the valley between your breasts. 

You sighed at her words before you stood up from your spot on her lap. Alessia went to protest but closed her mouth when you dropped to your knees in between her legs. “Take these off,” you panted as you pulled at the sweatpants she changed into. 

Alessia made quick work shimmying out of her pants and panties, throwing them aimlessly behind her. The blonde shuddered as the cold air hit her wet cunt, evidence of how worked up she was on her thighs. 

You grinned as you pushed her legs further apart and leaned in to kiss the inside of her thigh, trailing the kisses up. You stared up at her from between her legs as your tongue circled her clit softly. You moaned at the taste of her, earning a loud whine from the blonde above you. 

You hooked your arms around her thighs to keep them apart as you ran your tongue through her soaked folds. You felt your thighs clench, seeking your own pleasure as you got to work. Alessia tangled her hands in your hair as her hips bucked against your face, seeking her orgasm. 

“God,” the blonde whined as her head fell back against the back of the couch. She tugged you closer to her cunt as her thighs tried to close around your head. Your grip on her thighs tightened as your nails dug into her skin, forcing her shaking legs apart. 

“Y/n,” your name left her lips breathlessly, moans escaping her right after. “C-close,” she forced out with a cry. 

You sped up your tongue, wanting to taste every drop of her you could catch. “Cum for me, Alessia,” you muttered into her, sending jolts through her body. With a loud moan of your name, the blonde let go, coming all over your tongue and face. 

You didn’t waste a single drop as you licked her clean, her body jerking against you with each lick. You pulled away from her, panting as you stared up at her, watching her body shake from her orgasm. 

Alessia’s eyes fluttered open as she tilted her head down to look at you, your mouth glistening in the light. “C’mere,” she panted, pulling you up and back onto her lap. Her lips met yours in a heated kiss, a small moan leaving her lips as she tasted herself. 

While your lips moved against each other, Alessia guided you to lay back on the couch. The blonde hovered above you, propping herself up with one hand by your head while the other slipped down your body to pull your shorts off. 

Alessia trailed kisses down your neck, continuing to kiss down your body until her head was between your thighs. “Fuck, Y/n/n,” she groaned as she sucked harshly on the inside of your thigh. 

Your back arched softly off the couch as you hooked a leg over her shoulder. Alessia’s hands moved to spread your folds, licking up to your clit. Her lips sucked the sensitive bud softly, earning whimpers from you. 

“Please, Less,” you whined, you were worked up enough and needed a release quickly. Alessia grinned at your begging before giving in, wanting to repay the favor. “Fuck!” you gasped, feeling her tongue fucking you. 

Alessia moved her head from side to side as her tongue traced random shapes, her hands were tight on your hips to keep you still. Tears slipped from your eyes in pleasure as you tried to rut against her face. 

“Alessia,” you whined, your hands tight in her hair. “I’m so close, don’t stop, please,” you begged. 

It didn’t take much more from the blonde before you came with a hoarse moan of her name. Alessia stayed put for a moment, helping you ride out your orgasm before pulling away. You whined at the loss of contact and pulled your hands from her hair. Alessia crawled back up your body, her lips meeting yours in a slow, sensual kiss. 

Your hands found their way to her hips, holding her close as your lips moved against hers. Alessia pulled away when air became a necessity, her eyes dark as she looked down at you. “Maybe I won’t text first next time,” she smirked. 

You laughed softly as you leaned up slightly to give her a quick kiss. “Maybe I’ll go back to walking around the house naked,” you teased.

Alessia’s brows furrowed at your words, “You do this often?” Her tone sounded almost offended that this was the first time she had seen you naked.

“Not since you moved in, I used to spend most of the time naked when I was home,” you replied like it was nothing. 

“You should go back to doing that,” the blonde nodded, her eyes dropping to scan your body.

“If I did that, you wouldn’t be able to keep your hands to yourself,” you scoffed playfully. 

“Is that a bad thing,” Alessia teased as she leaned down to kiss you again. You smiled into the kiss before pulling back to mumble ‘No’ against her lips. 

You were glad not to have heard Alessia come home. Both of you were excited to see where this went, and you would be sure to forgo clothes when it was just you and Alessia at home.

[rafeskai]

Life as We Know It — Rafe Cameron

Chapter One

Two opposites must navigate love, loss, and unexpected parenthood to discover the meaning of family.

Summary: When tragedy strikes, two very different individuals find their lives unexpectedly intertwined as they become the guardians of an orphaned child. As they navigate the challenges of co-parenting, balancing careers, and confronting their pasts, they discover that family can form in the most surprising ways. Through heartfelt moments and unexpected humor, they explore what it means to build a life together—one step at a time.

Pairings: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Character deaths & angst.

Author's Notes: Inspired by the movie "Life as We Know It"! Let's pretend Rafe, Sarah, and John B. had a good relationship in this one, okay?

Masterlist: Here

Your phone buzzed on the kitchen counter, the shrill ring cutting through the early evening quiet. You were in the middle of folding laundry, your small apartment illuminated by the fading sunlight streaming through the windows. It was a peaceful, mundane moment—until it wasn’t.

You wiped your hands on a towel before glancing at the screen. Unknown Number. Normally, you’d let it go to voicemail, but something about the pit forming in your stomach made you swipe to answer.

“Hello?”

“Is this [Y/N]?” a man’s voice asked, calm but with an edge that made your chest tighten.

“Yes, this is she. Who’s calling?”

“This is Officer Langley with the Outer Banks Police Department. I... I’m afraid I have some difficult news.”

The world around you seemed to blur. You clutched the phone tighter, your knuckles turning white. “What happened?”

“There’s been an accident,” he said. “Sarah Cameron and John B. Routledge were involved in a car collision earlier this evening. Neither survived. You were one of their emergency contact.”

The words didn’t make sense. They felt foreign, like they belonged to someone else’s story. Your knees buckled, and you stumbled to the couch, sinking into the cushions.

“What about Willa, the daughter?” you whispered, your voice trembling.

There was a pause, and then, “She’s unharmed. The baby was with a sitter at the time. But there’s... another matter we need to discuss.”

You barely heard the rest of his explanation, your mind spinning with the weight of what he’d just told you. Sarah and John B. were gone. Gone.

When the officer mentioned the will, your thoughts screeched to a halt. “I don’t understand,” you said, your voice hoarse. “What do you mean ‘co-guardian’?”

“They named you and Rafe Cameron, her brother, as Willa’s legal guardians,” the officer repeated.

The line went quiet as you tried to process the impossibility of his words. Rafe Cameron? The same Rafe who couldn’t string together a week of good decisions if his life depended on it?

“Is... is he aware of this?” you managed.

“We’ve been trying to reach him. He’s next on my list.”

As if on cue, somewhere across town, Rafe Cameron was staring at his own buzzing phone with a mix of irritation and curiosity. The caller ID was unfamiliar, and he let it ring a few extra times before finally swiping to answer.

“Who is this?” he barked, already annoyed.

“Mr. Cameron, this is Officer Langley with the Outer Banks Police Department. I need to inform you—”

“If this is about the stupid noise complaint, I wasn’t even here last night,” Rafe interrupted, pacing his living room.

“It’s not about that.” The officer’s tone was grave, and Rafe froze mid-step.

“What’s going on?”

“There’s been an accident. Your sister, Sarah, and her partner, John B., were involved in a fatal car crash earlier this evening.”

Rafe’s mouth went dry. He sank onto the edge of the couch, gripping the phone so tightly it felt like it might crack. “What... what do you mean, ‘fatal’?”

“I’m very sorry for your loss,” the officer continued, his voice gentle. “They didn’t survive the collision.”

Rafe’s world tilted. His first instinct was disbelief—this had to be a mistake. But the silence that followed the officer’s words told him otherwise.

“And the baby?” Rafe asked after a long pause, his voice low and strained.

“Willa is safe. She wasn’t with them during the accident,” the officer said. “But there’s something else. According to their will, you and Ms. [Y/N] are named as her co-guardians.”

“What?” Rafe snapped, his disbelief quickly giving way to anger. “That can’t be right. Why would they do that?”

“You’ll need to meet with us to discuss the next steps,” the officer said. “I’ll send over the details.”

Rafe barely heard the rest of the conversation before the call ended. He dropped the phone onto the couch beside him, running both hands through his hair as his mind raced.

Co-guardian? With her?

It wasn’t long before your phone buzzed again, this time with a text from Rafe. His message was short and sharp:

“We need to talk. Now.”

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

The next few hours blurred into a painful haze. You and Rafe found yourselves sitting in the cramped office of the Outer Banks Police Department, a thin folder containing Sarah and John B.'s will resting on the table between you.

The room smelled of coffee and stale air, and the fluorescent lighting above only made everything feel more surreal. You glanced at Rafe from the corner of your eye. He was stiff in the chair beside you, his jaw clenched, eyes red-rimmed but steely.

Officer Langley sat across from you, his expression carefully neutral. Beside him was a lawyer, a sharp-eyed woman in a navy suit who looked as if she’d rather be anywhere else.

“The will is clear,” the lawyer said, her tone crisp and no-nonsense. “Ms. [Y/N] and Mr. Cameron are the appointed co-guardians of Willa Routledge. In the event of Sarah Cameron and John B. Routledge’s passing, the two of you are to assume all parental responsibilities.”

Rafe let out a dry, humorless laugh. “Yeah, that’s great. But let’s be real, you think either of us is qualified to raise a kid?”

“You don’t have a choice,” the lawyer replied without missing a beat. “Unless you want to contest the will, which would result in Willa being placed in temporary foster care until the matter is resolved.”

“No,” you said immediately, your voice firmer than you expected. “That’s not happening.”

Rafe shot you a glance, his eyes narrowing. “And what exactly do you think is going to happen here? You think we’re just gonna team up and play house?”

You didn’t have the energy to argue. “This isn’t about us, Rafe. It’s about Willa. She needs stability, and we’re all she’s got.”

Rafe rubbed a hand over his face, letting out a frustrated sigh. “Fine. Whatever. But don’t expect me to know what the hell I’m doing.”

The lawyer nodded, seemingly satisfied. “We’ll arrange for a formal meeting in a few days to finalize the transfer of guardianship. For now, Willa will remain with her current sitter until the two of you are ready to take her home.”

The word home hung heavy in the air, an impossible concept when everything felt so fractured.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

The hours that followed were a whirlwind. After leaving the police department, you and Rafe were directed to the funeral home to begin arrangements for Sarah and John B.’s services.

Rafe took the lead, though it was clear the responsibility weighed on him. He stood stiffly in front of the funeral director, nodding silently as they walked through options for caskets, flowers, and the service itself.

“They’d want it simple,” Rafe muttered, more to himself than anyone else. “Nothing flashy. Just... something that feels like them.”

You could see the cracks forming in his composure, the grief seeping through despite his best efforts to hold it together.

“I’ll handle the guest list,” you offered softly, hoping to lighten his load in any way you could.

He nodded but didn’t look at you. “Thanks,” he mumbled, his voice tight.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Later, you found yourself sitting in the corner of the funeral home’s waiting area, scrolling through your phone to contact people who needed to know. It was an exhausting task, one that made the reality of the situation sink deeper with every call.

Rafe was pacing the room, his phone pressed to his ear. From the snippets of his conversation, you guessed he was calling his father, Ward.

“No, Dad, I’ve got it under control,” Rafe said, though his tone suggested otherwise. “I don’t need you coming down here and making it about you. Just... send what you need to send and stay out of it.”

The conversation ended with Rafe tossing his phone onto a nearby chair and sitting down heavily. For a moment, the two of you sat in silence, the weight of everything pressing down on you like a physical force.

“She didn’t deserve this,” Rafe said finally, his voice barely above a whisper.

You looked over at him, surprised by the rawness in his tone. His head was in his hands, and for the first time, he looked utterly broken.

“No,” you agreed softly. “She didn’t. Neither of them did.”

Rafe didn’t respond, and you didn’t push. Grief was a strange, solitary thing, and you knew better than to try to force him to share it.

But as you sat there in the quiet, Willa’s face flashed in your mind—those wide, innocent eyes that didn’t yet understand what she’d lost. And you realized that no matter how fractured things were between you and Rafe, you’d have to find a way to piece them together. For her.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

The morning of the funeral was gray and cold, the sky heavy with clouds that mirrored the weight in your chest. The Outer Banks, usually vibrant and alive, seemed subdued, as if the island itself were mourning.

You stood at the back of the small church, clutching Willa to your chest. She was dressed in a tiny black dress that Sarah had once bought “just in case,” her soft curls pinned back with a white bow. She didn’t understand what was happening, her chubby hands reaching for your necklace as if this were just another day.

But it wasn’t.

The pews were packed with people from all corners of the island—friends, family, neighbors, even people who barely knew Sarah and John B. Everyone had come to say goodbye.

At the front of the church, two caskets stood side by side, draped in simple white flowers. The sight of them made your stomach churn, a wave of nausea rolling over you as the reality hit again. They were gone.

Rafe sat in the front row, his shoulders hunched, his hands gripping the edges of the pew. He was flanked by Ward and Rose, both of whom looked perfectly composed, their grief hidden behind practiced masks. You couldn’t help but feel a pang of anger toward them—toward Ward, especially. How could he sit there so calm when Sarah, his daughter, was gone?

The service began with soft hymns, the sound of the organ filling the air. The pastor spoke of love, loss, and legacy, his voice steady but kind. He shared stories of Sarah’s infectious smile and John B.’s unyielding spirit, painting a picture of the lives they’d led and the love they’d left behind.

When it came time for eulogies, Rafe surprised you by standing. He adjusted his tie awkwardly, clearing his throat as he approached the podium.

For a moment, he just stood there, staring out at the crowd, his usual bravado nowhere to be found.

“Sarah wasn’t just my sister,” he began, his voice hoarse. “She was my anchor. She kept me grounded, even when I didn’t deserve it. She believed in me when I didn’t believe in myself.”

He paused, his eyes glistening. “And John B.? He was... he was family. He took care of Sarah, made her happy in a way I couldn’t. He was my brother, even if I never said it out loud.”

His voice cracked, and he gripped the edges of the podium tightly, trying to steady himself. “They didn’t deserve this. They had so much left to give. But... they left us Willa. And I’ll do everything I can to make sure she knows how amazing her parents were.”

Rafe stepped back, his head bowed, and you felt an unexpected lump rise in your throat. For all his flaws, his grief was real, and it was impossible not to feel the depth of his pain.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

After the service, the crowd filtered out to the cemetery, where Sarah and John B. would be laid to rest. The air was heavy with the sound of muffled sobs and the soft rustle of the breeze through the trees.

You stood a little apart from the others, bouncing Willa gently to keep her calm. Rafe was nearby, his hands shoved deep into his coat pockets, his expression unreadable.

As the caskets were lowered into the ground, you felt an ache so deep it seemed to hollow you out. Tears blurred your vision, but you didn’t wipe them away. Grief deserved space, and today, there was nothing to do but let it exist.

When the ceremony ended, Rafe approached you, his face pale and drawn. He hesitated for a moment before gesturing to Willa.

“Can I hold her?” he asked, his voice quiet.

You nodded, carefully passing her over. She went willingly, her small hands gripping the lapels of his coat. For a moment, Rafe just stared at her, his features softening in a way you hadn’t seen before.

“She looks like Sarah,” he murmured, almost to himself.

“She does,” you agreed, watching as Willa rested her head against his chest.

In that moment, standing beside the fresh graves of the people you both loved, it became clear that nothing about this would be easy. But as you looked at Rafe holding Willa, you realized that maybe—just maybe—there was hope. For her, you would find a way.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

A few hours after the funeral, the weight of the day still hung heavy in the air as you and Rafe sat in the conference room of the law office. The small table between you seemed to represent the chasm that had always existed between you two—now more evident than ever.

The lawyers—two of them now, both stern-faced and clearly used to handling the messier sides of life—sat across from you, speaking in professional tones about the formalities. Child services was represented by a no-nonsense woman in her mid-forties who seemed to take notes every time either of you shifted in your seat.

Willa, still in your arms, had drifted off to sleep, her tiny breath soft against your chest. She had no idea that her life was being turned upside down today.

“Everything seems to be in order,” one of the lawyers said, flipping through the paperwork in front of him. “Guardianship has been transferred to both of you as per the will, and now, we just need to finalize arrangements for Willa’s immediate care.”

Rafe, who had been largely silent up until this point, suddenly leaned forward. His sharp eyes met the lawyer’s, and his jaw tightened as he spoke.

“We’ll be taking Willa home with us today. Both of us,” he said firmly, his tone brokering no argument.

The child services worker, Ms. Anderson, looked up from her notepad, her brow furrowed. “Mr. Cameron, I understand the circumstances, but we would like to ensure that both of you are prepared for the responsibility of guardianship. Willa’s safety and well-being are paramount. It’s important to assess—”

“I’m prepared,” Rafe cut her off, his voice cold and final. “I’m not asking, I’m telling you. She stays with me.”

The room went quiet for a beat as Ms. Anderson studied him. You could see the flicker of concern in her eyes as she turned to you, silently asking for your input.

You hesitated. Part of you was reluctant to let Willa stay in that house, with Rafe—the person who had been nothing but trouble for years. But the other part of you knew that, for better or worse, you didn’t have many options. You were in this with him now, and if he was willing to take on that responsibility, you couldn’t exactly argue against it.

“She’ll stay with me, too,” you added softly, catching Rafe’s eye. “But I don’t think it’s a good idea to let her stay alone with you, not yet.”

Rafe’s jaw tightened again, but this time, there was a flicker of something else behind his eyes. A flicker of understanding. “Fine. We’ll take her. But we’re doing this together. It’s not just your decision, [Y/N].”

You didn’t argue with him. He was right. This wasn’t just your choice anymore. You shared the responsibility, whether you liked it or not.

Ms. Anderson nodded, taking notes. “We’ll have to conduct an assessment in the next few days, and I’ll be following up regularly. But for now, if both of you are in agreement, Willa can go with you.”

Rafe stood abruptly, crossing the room and grabbing the folder of documents from the lawyer’s desk. “Good. Let’s get this over with.”

As he turned to leave, the lawyer called after him. “Mr. Cameron, please ensure that you maintain contact with child services for further evaluations.”

Rafe gave a terse nod without looking back.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

The drive to the Cameron estate was a tense one, the silence thick with unspoken thoughts. You sat in the passenger seat, holding Willa close, her tiny body pressed against you as she slept. Rafe drove, his grip on the steering wheel tight as he focused on the road, the sound of the engine and the occasional rustle of Willa’s breath filling the quiet.

When you pulled up to the house, it felt like a different world. The sprawling estate loomed ahead, the grand, cold structure seeming to mock the chaos of the day. You could feel the heaviness of the house before you even stepped inside. It was too big, too empty. It had always been a symbol of something Rafe wanted, something that didn’t fit with the life you’d grown up with.

But now, it was where Willa was going to stay.

“Welcome home,” Rafe muttered as he parked the car and cut the engine.

You weren’t sure if he meant it sarcastically, or if there was something real underneath the bitterness.

He led the way up the stone steps, unlocking the front door with a swipe of his key. The house felt colder inside, and Willa shifted in your arms as the air conditioned chill wrapped around you. Rafe glanced over his shoulder.

“I’m not leaving her with you alone,” you said firmly, setting Willa down into the nearby high chair as you followed him further into the house. “You’re going to need help. You’re not capable of just doing this on your own.”

Rafe gave a sharp, humorless laugh. “Yeah, no kidding. I never said I was. But if she’s gonna be here, she’s staying in this house. So you’ll just have to suck it up.”

You weren’t sure how you were supposed to feel in this house with him—this house that was too much like a battlefield, and not enough like a home. But there was no escaping it now. You were stuck here together, as guardians. You took a deep breath and tried not to let the tension eat away at you.

For Willa.

"She’s still a baby," you murmured, brushing a stray curl from Willa’s face. "This isn’t about us. We need to figure it out for her."

Rafe didn’t respond, but he didn’t argue, either. He just stood there, watching you with that same unreadable look he always had. But for the first time, there was a sliver of uncertainty behind it.

And for the first time, you wondered if maybe—just maybe—there was a chance, however small, that you and Rafe might actually pull this off.

© 2024 rafeskai | All rights reserved. This fanfiction is a work of fiction inspired by characters from Outer Banks, and no part of it may be reproduced or distributed without permission.

[sierrale8ne]

40 DAYS AND 40 NIGHTS CHAPTER TEN

thought i’d be lying if i said ‘i didn’t want you to myself.’ when you look me in my eyes and, tell me that it’s mine, i…

pairing wnba!paige bueckers x singer!oc

taglist @thaatdigitaldiary @ohbueckers @wbbgetsmewetter @rosemariiaa @tndaqlifwy @patscorner @pboogerswbb @xxloveralways14 @makethemhoesmad @slvt4her @uconnpazzi @luvapaigeeyy @hedidnotpleaseme @paigesbabygirl @mopopshop @omg-imtumbling @ch12334 @wbb4l

warnings angst (?), homophobia/homophobic slur, sexual innuendos, sexual content.

kalena speakss 🪽! so here’s the ACTUAL chapter ten, i accidentally posted a different version last night so if you saw that just completely disregard it lmao

July 2025 — Crypto.com Arena, Los Angeles, California 

“‘Preciate you comin’ out, man.” I nod, my hand giving a firm dap to Julian.

Yeah, the Julian who’s girlfriend I seem to be helplessly obsessed with.

We had just beat the Fever at home in a blow out on the second night of a back-to-back. My body is aching, and as soon as I left the locker room, I was ready to push through those metal doors and go home. Maybe stop for some dinner too. 

Until I heard it. The voice that has replayed in my head rather than in my ears for the last week and a half. That slight southern drawl with the occasional upbeat ending. It’s perfect, and I didn't realize how bad I’d missed it until now.

I meant it when I thought I needed a break. Maraye was running laps in my head, like a marathon. She’s all I seem to be surrounded by. But there’s so many issues, and Nika was right: I don’t need to be getting hurt again.

So I stepped back, wanting to figure out what I really did want. 

Now I know that I want her in my bed, hands in my hair, moans of my name leaving her mouth. More importantly, though, I want her to be mine. So damn badly. I wanted to grow with her, watch her succeed up close, to do all the things with her that come with a relationship. 

That shit was fucking terrifying. I can't remember the last time I let a girl get this close to me. To learn me in the way Maraye has been able to. Or even being able to learn her in the way that I have.

So when she stands there, next to Julian in her curve hugging jeans and a cropped shirt with my name and number, her eyes looking everywhere but at myself, I know that something is off.

“Congrats All-star.” She says to me, eyes looking at me but not really. She darts everywhere but at my eyes, which normally are her main attraction.

The All-star list dropped at halftime, Rickea and Dearica making the list as well. A smile spreads onto my face and I finally drop my hand from Julian’s. “Thanks, angel.” It slips. I shouldn’t have said it, not here in front of him. I knew I shouldn’t.

It was so natural, falling from my tongue like butter. 

I see his eyebrows furrow, looking down at his girlfriend as if she would stop me from calling her that again. 

“You comin’ to Indy?”

“I was thinking about it. Yeah.” Raye answers and it’s the first time throughout this awkward exchange that I actually see those eyes. Wide, doe, eyes that I know I could happily spend the rest of my life just looking at. “Uh, we. We were thinking about going.” She corrects when Julian darts his head to her.

I nod, wiping the palms of my hands on the side of my jeans. 

“I should probably head out, Ion wanna keep y’all too long.” I force out through the tension. I don’t want to leave. Because I know that as soon as I do, I’m going to force myself into more dry texts and ignore her calls and keep myself away from looking at that damn perfect face. 

“You sure?” Julian questions me. His tone is skeptical, like he knows something that I don’t. Or that he knows something that he shouldn’t.

“Yeah, I got some places to be at too.” I hum, pulling my phone out to look at the time. It’s not late, barely even 10 o’clock, but that slight movement is enough to make them both think I have other plans.

Maraye pushes her curls from her face, the bright white hallway lights make her gold septum glisten in her nose. “I’ll see you around then?” She asks, taking a step closer to me and we hug.

The only difference is this hug isn’t what I’m used to. It isn’t the hug where her arms wrap around my neck, mine feel on the swell of her ass, and I can smell every bit of the scent she chose to wear. That would be too risky.

So instead she holds me by my side, my arm cautiously around her shoulder while her palm presses into my back. It’s difficult for me to keep my composure because deep down I know that I should be able to hug her however I damn well please. 

And I can’t.

All because of him. It’s always him.

—

The hum of the engine is all that fills the car, along with the occasional voice of whatever rapper Julian has playing at minimal volume while I drive. 

It’s been like this for a minute. Just the two of us sitting quietly, my finger tips occasionally tapping against the steering wheel while he stares out the window. I’m supposed to be taking us to his place, we’d eat some dinner and maybe watch a movie.

“So, you and Paige, huh?” He asks, his voice so monotonous.

My hands start to sweat and nearly slip down the wheel. “What?”

He turns his head towards me and though my eyes are glued to the road ahead, I can feel the way his dark eyes are burning holes into my skin. 

“You and her. Y’all got something goin’ on? She callin’ you angel and you don’t do nothin’ about it?” His voice casually picks up, going from nonchalant to angry in a matter of seconds. I briefly look at him, and even through the darkness of the night I can see his light skin slowly build in a red tint.

“Paige and I are friends, Ju.” I breathe out. I know that’s true, even though it’s also a lie. Paige and I stopped being just friends the second I kissed her on my couch.

“Then why the hell is it that you been hanging out with her so much, but the second I’m around y’all wanna be all awkward and you wanna look at the floor?”

It’s my fault for thinking that he wouldn’t be able to pick up on our awkward exchanges, because the tension was very noticeable. It was my first time seeing her since that night in the studio. She’s been avoidant lately, and honestly I couldn’t even blame her.

She was over it. And I guess I am too. 

Yet, here I stand, lying to Julian once again and letting him think nothing is wrong. Keeping him at arm's reach when I should really be letting him go.

“I’m sick of fighting, Julian.” I told him. That’s also true. I am so damn exhausted from all the back and forth yelling, but right now I just really don’t want to have this specific conversation. 

“Answer my fucking question, Raye. Are you fucking her?” He yells, never taking his glance off the side of my face.

“What, no!” I look over at him again, my hands shaking while I grip the wheel. “Quit being so insecure! Just because I got good people in my life, doesn’t mean I’m fucking them. I’m with you.”

I hate this. This lying and manipulation. I fucking hate it because this isn’t who I am. I’m not an asshole. I’m not a cheater. Then here I am, doing everything I write about in my songs, hurting him just to protect my own image.

“Insecure? You think I’m jealous of that fucking fag? Like she can give you anything that I do.” He scoffs. His words hit my ears and as I process them, they taste bitter. Every gear in my head starts turning and I start to get angry. Not at what he said, but how he speaks about her. I waste no breath in defending her.

“Watch how the fuck you talk about her, Ju.”

We approached his apartment complex.

“Why you defending her?”

“Why are you calling her out her name?” I yell back.

He’s silent. We stop at a light and I turn my whole head to make eye contact with him. “Should’ve never that you get close to that fuckin’ dyke. You wanna fuck around with her, go do that shit then.”

I reach for the panel on my door, pressing the unlock button. The click echos through the car. “Get out.”

He looks at me surprised, as if he didn’t expect me to say that to him. “Raye.”

“No. You wanna talk to me crazy, you wanna talk about Paige crazy. So get the fuck out.” I reason. “Your place is right there. Walk. Get the fuck out of my car, Julian.”

He scoffs, slumping back against the seat. “Man, you crazy.”

“Get out of my car. You think I’m fuckin’ joking?” I laugh completely irritated. I reach for his phone, taking it off aux and throwing it into his lap. I look at him expectantly.

Julian huffs, unbuckling his seatbelt and opening the passenger door. He hops out, looking at me with squinted eyes. “So you—”

“Close my door.” I cut him off, no longer looking back at him, but the green light that is blaring at me to keep driving.

He huffs, slamming the door and I speed off as soon as he does so.

I sit with my own thoughts. So much running through my head, but it all goes back to her. And suddenly I don’t care about the lying or the distance. I just want to talk to her. To talk to Paige.

I pull off into a nearby gas station, pulling my phone out of my purse.

can we talk?

It isn’t even a few seconds before the gray text bubbles pop up on my screen. Then they disappear and I groan.

Until they pop up again, this time fast and insistent.

Yeah we should

Come over?

I know better. Me and Paige don’t have a great track record of keeping our hands to ourselves when we’re alone. So I should text back that we should meet somewhere else.

That’s until she texts me again: Please?

send your addy

And she does.

—

My leg bounces from where I sit on a kitchen stool. It’s not in the anxious way, but in the distracting way. My arm is stretched out over the edge of the counter that I lean on. My fingers tug on my bottom lip while I look at her.

Raye’s been here for a few minutes, going on about something Julian has done. I was listening at first, I think he knows and argument being the specific terms that stuck in my head.

She stood in front of me, pulling her curls up into a bun on the top of her head. It makes the hem of that damned cropped shirt ride up on her body and expose gold jewelry on her belly button.

So yes, it’s hard to listen to what she’s saying when she’s practically tempting me right now. But I do listen when she says:

“I dunno. I’m done with all of this shit.”

If I were a dog, my ears would practically be perking up at it. I sit up straight, leaning with my elbows on my knees to get closer. To make sure I heard her correctly.

Throughout this whole encounter with Maraye, she’s only ever told me she was tired or that she was bothered. Not once did she ever tell me she was done, and that makes all the difference.

“You’re done? For real?”

“Yes. I dunno. It’s not that simple, P.”

I let out a scoff. “Yes it is. You aren’t comfortable ‘round him like you are with me. You don’t spend all day with him like you do with me.” I shrug my shoulders, slightly frustrated. I feel like I’ve given Raye enough evidence that I’m better, as cocky as it sounds. But yet here we are. “It’s hella simple. You jus’ don’t wanna admit it.”

“I didn’t come here for you to scold me.”

“So whatcha come here for then, huh?” I ask, standing up from the stool. 

My hair tumbles down my shoulders as I tower over her. Maraye’s eyes trail down my body and the white shirts that clings to each ridge of my body.

“You wanna kiss me? Wan’ me to fuck you? Wanna keep talking about him? What do you want, Raye? ‘Cause I know what I asked you to come here for.”

“And why’d you do that, Paige?” She responds, getting in my face.

I should be bothered and put up yet another defense. Then I’m reminded that she’s already defensive, herself. She’s frustrated from all the arguing that took place the minute I left her and Julian at Crypto. 

She’s mad. And normally I’d justify her anger, but tonight; it’s all our fault. We made a mess, started seeing each other in a way that we shouldn’t have and Julian caught on. He knows.

“Well for one, Ion wanna be a home-wrecker.” I say, throwing my hands up. “You might be over him theoretically and he might be a raging asshole, but I don’t do that shit, Raye.” And I don’t.

Fooling around, seeing multiple girls, I used to do a lot of it. I can admit that. Home-wrecking, however, has never been on my list.

Raye lets out a snort. “Spell theoretically.”

I huff and run my hands through my hair. “You’re so unbelievably annoying.” I respond, stepping away and walking past her to my couch but she tugs my arm.

“Okay, wait.” She laughs. “You’re right.”

“I’m always right.”

“Yeah, okay.” I stand in front of her again. This time we’re even closer, her hand wrapped around my wrist. “What do you want me to do?” It’s more of a statement than a question because she knows.

She knows I want her to breakup with him and choose me and then let me fuck her within an inch of her life immediately after. That, I could get behind.

“You wanna hear me say it?”

“Please?” 

Raye’s free hand trails up my arm. She’s so tempting, the words so close to dying on my tongue and not being heard at all. Her voice is so enticing, and she looks up at me through her lashes like I hung the moon.

“I… want you, to make a fucking decision.” My voice doesn’t waver as I look deep into her eyes. “You can choose whoever you want, but I can’t keep doin’ this. You choose.”

This is the closest I’m going to get to fighting her off. I don’t push her arm off of me or tell her to back up. This is the closest I’ll get, because I simply can’t get enough of her.

“Okay.” Maraye nods, clutching onto my bicep.

“Okay? That’s it? You not gonna yell at me for making you choose?”

She smiles and shakes her head. The bun on her head shakes a little, and it makes me smile too. “I’ll choose. You gotta give me some time tho’. Few days maybe?”

It seems pretty reasonable to me, though I’d rather she break up with him right this minute over the phone, that would be just a bit crazy.

“We got a road trip. I’ll be gone all week, that work?”

“You’re really serious about this, huh?”

“I just need to know. You pick him, fine.” I shrug. “But if you pick me, even better.”

She grins. “It’s giving Meredith Grey.”

Now I push her off me, listening to the way her laugh fills my ears and bounces off the walls. She stumbles back a tad before catching me on the couch. My back rests against it while Maraye stands in front of me, the spot between my legs becoming designated for her.

“C’mon. It was funny!”

“You’re an idiot.”

“I’m a sexy idiot.”

I hum, rolling my eyes.

It was things like this I missed. The laughter, the jokes, the comfort. Sure she was stunning, and the flirting and kisses were otherworldly, but this topped it. These moments with Maraye that were so hard to come by.

I like the way she looks when she’s looking down at me. It’s intimidating, but still so damn hot.

“A very sexy one.” I finally respond, sitting up more so she can see me better. “These jeans look incredible on you, by the way.”

“Yeah? You wan’ a 360?” Raye jokes.

“I want a 180, angel.” I reply. My hands reach for her hips, playing with the fabric of her belt loops. Raye brushes me off, making a frown spread across my mouth. 

She bows her head to check the dainty watch on her wrist. “It’s late, P. I should get home.”

“You could stay here with me.” My hands drop from her body, instead using my eyes to suggestively try and convince her to stay the night. It’s a joke. Mostly.

“And you were the one who said no more home-wrecking.”

—

My lips are pressed against hers, tongues swirling and spit swapping between the both of us.

It’s urgent. More urgent than any way Paige has ever kissed me before. She doesn’t give me a second to think before her finger is breaking me open and I’m gushing all over her. The stretch is so foreign, and I can’t believe how unbelievably full I feel with just one finger.

“Like this?” She asks after pulling back with a nasty suck of my tongue. I’m nodding at her words tucking my lip between my teeth. 

“Mmph yes. Yes.” A whimper rumbles from my mouth. I clutch into her shoulder, tossing my head back until it hits the pillow under me. 

My legs start closing in on themselves when she adds a second one. “I’m tryna make you feel good, baby. Why you fightin’ me?” Paige asks. Her voice as deep and hungry as I ever heard it. 

Her fingers curl into me, thumb rubbing tight circles on my unbelievably sensitive clit. She found it within a matter of milliseconds, it felt like. And the lights were off.

“He fuck you better than me? Huh?”

I barely hear her over the sound of my own cunt but that doesn’t stop me from shaking my head eagerly. “No. Fuck no, P. He doesn’t.” 

I’m nearly melting at the stimulation. Her voice in my ear and her finger’s scissoring me apart

“P.” I hiccup, nothing else filling my head except the pleasure I’m feeling. Her fingers are so damn long, tickling the deepest parts of me that I didn’t even know existed. She consumes me, swallows me whole. 

Her mouth finds my neck again, biting on my sensitive spot and making my eyes roll. I’m so close, my arousal already dripping past my cunt and onto the sheets below my ass. It’s messy. Wet and messy.

“You wanna cum for me, angel?” Paige teases, licking at the mark she left on my neck.

“Fuck, Fuck! ‘Mm God, P, you’re—”

“You’re doin’ so good, ma. I know you wanna cum.” She nods. “Just let me have it.”

“Paige!” I moan, reaching to grip her hand.

“Pretty fuckin’ girl. Cum, baby. I’m right here.” 

Her words add unbelievable fuel to the fire and my back arches underneath her body. She’s talking me through it, bringing me to the edge and I gasp before waking up.

The sun peeks through my blinds and sleep still crusts my eyes. I wipe them, sitting up half naked in my bed. 

I got home late last night. Closer to one in the morning. Paige was distracting, and I simply couldn’t just leave when she was begging me to stay.

My body is sweaty, my breath is embarrassingly ragged, and My panties are so soaked under the shorts I wore to bed. 

When I sit up, the duvet covering my body, I reach for my phone. Then I see them, the hundreds of texts and calls from Julian and the text from Paige.

Hope you make the right decision

I’ll see you when I get back ma 🫶🏼

[xoxxbilliexoxx]

Friends? Just Friends?

After years of being friends with Billie, the sexual tension comes to an all time high and can’t be ignored any longer. You finally let her teach you exactly what it feels like to be with a woman

This is super long but I promise it’s worth it ;)

Y/N Pov

I walk over to the speaker, turn it on, and ask Billie what playlist she wants to hear. It’s a chill Sunday afternoon, and after Billie and I woke up around noon, we’ve been lying in bed watching TikTok and yapping. Billie slept over last night after a late night at a friend's party. It seems like these days I don’t spend many nights without Billie in my bed, or me in hers. We’ve been friends for years but a while ago we both expressed how bored and lonely we each had been, and started hanging out almost all the time. Now a few months later, she's definitely my best friend, always attached to each other's hips. I finally pulled myself out of bed a little while ago, and now it is unfortunately time for my Sunday routine. Billie knows it well by now since she’s been forced to be a part of it week after week.

“Let's do some bossa nova this week, I’m in the mood to move my hips” Billie laughs back at my question. We’ve bonded over our love for international music and it has been slowly added into the Sunday routine, choosing a different type each week once I finally force myself out of bed, cleaning up my room while Billie's lazy ass stays under the comfy sheets goofing off on her phone and telling me all her crazy thoughts. She starts seductively moving her hips beneath the blankets as she laughs and hums to the Brazilian guitar purring through the speaker. I look over at her as I lean down to pick up the dirty clothes that have accumulated in the corner of my room, laughing back at her.

As I stand up and try to turn around, I feel my foot slide out from under me, seemingly having been planted on a dirty pair of underwear I missed. I hit the floor with a loud thunk and Billie darts to the corner of the bed, not even trying to hide her laughter as she tries to calm down long enough to ask if I’m okay. I turn my head to follow her voice, and all I can see is her head extending off the bed, hovering over me, leaving me laughing just as loud as she is. “Oh my god, I will never not make fun of your clutsy ass ending up on the floor” she yells out between her giggles, trying hard to catch her breath as she points down at me laughing more as she mocks my fake hurt face.

I grab the first thing I can find next to me and throw it at her face before pretending I’m mad, yelling for her to quit being a bitch and help me get up. She dramatically dodges whatever it is coming for her face then leans her hand up catching it. As she opens her hand and realizes it's my black thong I wore last night, she acts as if shes absolutely disgusted before she laughs and throws it back at me. “Bitch don’t you ever throw ur crusty ass panties at my face again,” she says with a tight smile, letting me know she doesn’t actually care. I open my mouth gasping at her words, “crusty? Whose panties you calling crusty cuz they sure as hell aren’t mine” I say, before standing up from the floor and grabbing them to add them to the laundry bin. “My kitty is nice and clean, and so are my underwear,” I add, as I turn to her, knowing she hates when I call it my kitty.

“Yea yea,” she laughs, before jumping off the bed, “I bet it is,” she whispers, leaning her head close to mine before winking and walking to the bathroom. I take a second to look for something next to say, not coming up with anything. Billie and I have always walked a fine line of flirting and just joking around as friends. It's clear we both do it, but we’ve never acknowledged it. Instead, it just stays in our presence, like a thick tension we pretend we don’t feel. I feel it all too well though, always holding an intense attraction to her, since the day I met her. Quite honestly it was even before that, when I was still just a fan of hers and never thought I’d end up her best friend. That is another whole story though.

Ever since I told Billie I thought I might be gay, the tension has only grown, yet we continue not to recognize it, like we are both terrified of what might happen if we do. I decide in a split second to be bold, regretting the words as soon as they come out of my mouth, “Nice and clean and with no one to show it to,” Billie whips her head back at me with a smile, toothpaste spilling out the sides as she laughs and wipes it away, rubbing it shamelessly on the big t-shirt she slept in. I giggle a bit before finding my confidence again. Maybe this damn bossa nova is getting to my head but I feel the tension as thick as its ever been. I catch a look in her eyes that I haven’t seen before, like shes thinking about what I look like under these boxers. “No *girl* to show it to”, adding emphasis to my words as I correct my previous statement.

I turn around and walk towards my desk as silence falls between us. I begin picking up all the makeup on my vanity, continuing on with my cleaning, letting the bossa nova fill my head again. I can hear Billie finishing in the bathroom, clinking her toothbrush on the side of the sink before setting it back in the cup and walking into my room again. She settles on the edge of the bed in criss-cross, watching me clean and hum along with the guitar.

“So you’ve thought more about it then, huh?” she asks me delicately, knowing we haven’t talked about it in a while. I look into the mirror and find her eyes on the bed behind me, eyes that have already found me. I turn around to face her before I shrug my shoulder. “I mean I think about it constantly, I just feel so nervous about it all. I really think I’m into women but I don't know where to go from here” I answer her, but continue on after a brief pause. “Actually, I know I’m into women, regardless it's scary as fuck…. Women are scary as fuck” I laugh out. “You’re cute,” Billie says with a little giggle. It comes out in a friendly way, but the way she continues to stare at me after she says it doesn’t match the solely friendly tone of voice. I pick up a shirt lying on the bench of my vanity and throw it at her head, harder than the panties this morning. It hits her right on the forehead and she sprawls out on the bed dramatically, acting far more hurt than she was. “Oh stop being dramatic and get ur lazy ass up, it's time to go downstairs and clean the kitchen,” I say as I walk over and pull her up by her arms. As I let go and walk out of the room with Billie following behind me, I turn to look at her, “at least it wasn’t another pair of my nasty crusty disgusting thongs” I saw with a big mocking smile, puckering my lips sending her fake kisses like we always do when we are making fun of each other. Yet again we have managed to completely ignore the tension we are both choking on.

TIME JUMP TO THAT NIGHT

Billie and I are sitting on the couch waiting for our postmates to arrive and watching some shitty rom com on that we both picked from the image alone. We already had cold vegan pizza for dinner and are on our second bottle of wine. This is just another classic sunday evening, junk food, wine, and a postmated dessert to finish off the normal routine. When I first met Billie I watched as she drank her sodas and water while everyone else around her drank mixed drinks and beer. She made it clear publicly that she didnt drink, and when I finally asked her why she told me she had no problem with alcohol or the idea of drinking she just hated every drink she ever tried.

One night when we very first started these constant sleepovers she tried a taste of my favorite wine and loved it. A few weeks later she and I shared a bottle and I had the privilege of watching her experience the drunk world for the first time. Nowadays, we usually each have a glass every Sunday night, and occasionally we will have a girl's night and drink more than a few glasses while we watch shitty movies. Tonight was turning into one of those nights, having just stocked up on our favorite when I went to Target earlier. I walk into the kitchen to pop open the second bottle and ask if Billie wants more. She excitedly grabs her glass and runs into the kitchen after me, purposely sliding with her socks on the kitchen tile as she laughs.

The couple of times Billie has ever been drunk have all been with me, and it’s very clear she is a goofy drunk. This girl is already the funniest person I know when she is sober, but being around her while she's drunk has my abs hurting from laughing. She is quite a lightweight, with her infrequent drinking and her tiny body, so usually we just finish a bottle and a half, before we get messy drunk. We both enjoy being just past tipsy, still in control, still with a filter to our thoughts, but just a little more light-hearted and silly.

When we finish the movie and go in for a refill before starting a new one, we look at each other shocked when we pour out the last drops of the second bottle. “Did we drink all of that?” Billie laughs, her cheeks rosy and her eyes big. “Ruh roh” she yells out before laughing and lifting her glass to take the last sip. “I think we just broke our pathetic previous record,” I giggle back at her. “Should we open another??” she asks me, her words making it clear she is leaving it up for me to decide. I can tell she’s never been this drunk, yet I know she’s nowhere near dangerous drunk, or even messy drunk. “Fuck it let's do it” I shout a little too loudly before I grab another bottle out of the fridge.

TIME JUMP (Smutty time)

Our empty wine glasses are sitting on the coffee table in front of us as we lay under the blankets and watch the movie the TV put on automatically after our first movie finished. We are about 20 minutes in and it's becoming incredibly clear this is not at all similar to the cheesy straight rom-com that came before it. I feel my breath catch in my throat and all the wine-filled blood run to my center when the TV fills with the images of two women making out, one being thrown on the bed while the other climbs on top of her. As the sex scene keeps going, I remember that this is Netflix, and they are putting straight-up soft porn in their movies now.

I feel the pool forming in my underwear as I watch this graphic, incredibly hot lesbian sex scene play out in front of me. My drunk face must not be hiding what I'm feeling well because as Billie turns to look at me, she lets out a loud laugh. “Baby you look like a deer in headlights,” she says, still quietly giggling, her drunkenness showing through in the sound of her laughter. I swallow loudly before looking at her and then back at the TV. The moans get louder as we watch one of the girls reach her peak, the other continuing to go down on her. I shift awkwardly on the couch, trying not to make it too obvious how much that affected me, how turned on it got me. The combination of the wine, the hot lesbian sex in front of us, and the sexually charged tension Billie and I shared earlier is making it impossible for me to look Billie in the eyes, too scared of what I might say or do. Billie is still staring at me as my eyes stay glued on the screen, the scene still playing out. I feel her torso lifting up from the couch and getting closer to me before smiling and whispering, “You wish that was you, huh? Sitting here wondering what it must be like to get fucked by a girl… or fuck a girl yourself” she stays close to me, swallowing and giggling before continuing. “It's fucking incredible, better than you could even imagine,” she says matter of factly. The tension is as thick as it could possibly get, almost like I could see it taking over my entire body, and just by looking at Billie it's clear she feels it too.

Before I can stop myself, I spring towards Billie. My momentum picking up as I get closer. Realizing what I’m doing, I pause, scared to move at all. Billie grabs my face, pulling me the rest of the way to her and our lips crash together. Months of building tension all explode at once as our tongues slide against each other, eagerly slipping between one another's lips, no longer hiding how badly we want each other. “Show me, Billie,” I say, pulling back enough to get my words out and swallow. “Show me what it feels like to be with a girl,” I finish. “you have no idea how long I've waited to hear you say those words” she confesses as she stands up, pulling my hand to follow her to my room. We both lightly stumble down the hallway, giggling from the wine and the anticipation of what is to come.

As we make our way into my room I turn on my favorite lamp- it has a dark pink light bulb that glows so nicely in my room at night. I throw myself onto the bed and land right next to Billie, both of us taking a second to laugh at my ridiculous jump before getting quiet again. She turns on her side to face me and I do the same. My hair falls in front of my face as I turn. Billie’s hand comes up, brushing it out of the way before kissing me again, pulling me in tight against her as our legs dance together. Her leg finds its way between mine and as our kiss gets heated again she pushes up against my core. I let out a slight whine as Billie’s hands hit my waist, pushing me harder against her thigh and pushing her tongue into my mouth.

I don’t think I’ve ever felt so horny, been so wet, or wanted someone more in my life. Billie’s head finds its way to my neck as she begins placing light kisses against my skin. When she bites down and pushes her thigh against my clit harder, I let out a deep moan that I swear has been growing in me for months. “Mmmmhhhmm, Billie…” I huff as I begin grinding my hips shamelessly against her thigh, begging for any pleasure at this point. Billie's shorts have slid all the way up her leg, leaving her thigh bare and able to feel my soaked shorts gliding against her as I move my hips faster.

I feel her wet lips hit my ear, biting it gently as she breathes out. It is as if my body is on fire, every single nerve ending I have lighting up at once, every touch suddenly feeling sexual. I am melting at her every move and she hasn’t even touched me yet. If this is what it feels like to be with a girl, I want it forever. “Billie please” I whine out, desperation filling my voice as I grind my core harder against her. My wet shorts rub tightly against my clit with every move I make and I feel like I could cum from this alone. A slight embarrassment creeps up, slowing my hips as I realize how close I am to cumming, just from her thigh against my pussy. I grab the back of her head as she continues sucking and biting on my neck. Quiet moans continue spilling from my lips as my head begins to race. Is this a thing in lesbian sex? Am I crazy for doing this? Should I stop?

As my mind continues to take control and ruin my pleasure Billie interrupted the thoughts, almost as if she could hear them out loud. “Don’t stop grinding on my thigh until I feel your cum drench my skin, keep going for me Y/N I know it feels good” Her words are exactly what I needed, making my pussy clench tightly. I grab her chin and pull her into a deep kiss as her hands snake under my shirt and reach my bare chest. She squeezes my big boobs hard before pinching my nipple, giggling as I yelp into her mouth. She continues toying with my hard nipples as I pull away from her lips, too caught up in the pleasure to keep kissing. Each time she pinches and pulls at my bud I groan louder and move my hips faster. Billie catches on quickly, continuing her fun on my boobs, dragging me closer and closer to the edge, flooding every part of my body with overwhelming pleasure. I find my way to her neck, needing to feel closer to her, placing open-mouth kisses all over. I earn a quiet gasp from her when I hit a sweet spot, and latch on tighter.

As I kiss her harder, biting on her skin, continuing to pull moans from her, she suddenly pushes her thigh in a new angle right as I speed up my movements, throwing me over the edge. I grab her tight, pulling her as close to me as she can possibly be. My head is still nuzzled into her neck, my mouth hanging open as loud moans pour from my lips, lips that continuing lightly connect with her skin. My legs shake as she grabs both my hips and continues to move them for me, allowing me to ride out my orgasm for as long as possible. I hold my breath, shocked at the pleasure I am experiencing just from her thigh on my body. A light hum sings from her lips as I finally come down from such a powerful orgasm. I hold her tight as I catch my breath, needing to feel her close to me, trying to process the feelings I am beginning to understand, feelings I felt for her for a long time. Billie giggles as she rubs my back, helping ground me and letting me take my time with my descent back to earth. I finally pull my head from out of her neck and grab her face, needing to kiss her hard before anything is said, trying to gather my thoughts. I let my back fall onto the mattress as I laugh and breath out, still shocked at what was happening, shocked that Billie, my best friend, the girl I’ve secretly been attracted to for years, just pushed me to the most intense orgasm I’ve ever had.

“there ya go baby,” Billie says as she climbs on top of me, grabbing my chin, pulling me in for an intensely hot kiss before placing her lips on my forehead. “now let me clean you up” she whispers in between kisses, kisses that started as pecks and are now becoming more and more sloppy. She lifts my shirt up and I grab it, pulling it over my head needing to be free. “Can I see you too Billie?” I ask, a slight innocence and vulnerability peaking out of my words as I hold my fingers at the base of her shirt, slightly sliding it up. She smiles and sits up, tugging the shirt over her head and reaching behind her, immediately taking off her sexy black lace bra. My heart skips a beat when I watch her perfect big boobs drop to their natural, beautiful position. I lay myself up on my elbows pulling her closer, needing them in my mouth. I kiss lightly before wrapping my lips all the way around her nipple, circling my tongue around her bud as one of my hands plays with her free boob. “Ooo baby fuck… y/n mmmm” she sings, her hands pushing my head towards her as I continue on exploring her breasts.

She pushes me away and lays her own lips on my chest, eagerly moving down my body. “I need to taste you, mama, take these slutty little shorts off for me” She pulls at the waistband as I lift my hips up, helping her slide them off of me before laying back down. Her words make my pussy clench, pushing out more of my juices. She grabs both my thighs gripping them hard as she spreads them, groaning loudly as she sees my wet core for the first time ever. I swallow hard, the vulnerability of my exposed pussy hitting me all at once, wanting to hide from her, covering my face with my arm. Billie clearly senses my emotions, knowing me all too well. She places a light kiss on my upper thigh, then another on the other side. “Oh y/n you’re so perfect… sexier than I could have ever imagined,” she kisses my upper thigh again before continuing, “and I’ve thought about it a lot” I whine at her words, the hunger pushing away the vulnerability, and right as I’m about to beg for her tongue, she latches on. Still so sensitive from my last orgasm, I’m unable to hold in any of my moans, immediately drunk from the pleasure yet again. I grab her hair hard and push her against me as my hips buck. “Fuck Billie your tongue feels so good” my moans interrupt my own words, throwing my head back as her tongue circles my swollen clit. “oh baby, fuck Billie please don’t stop, fuck” my words fuel her on as she gets even more intense. It feels like she’s devouring me, eating me alive like she's been starved forever. She comes up for air and we make eye contact. I swallow back my drool as I stare at her, unable to process just how sexy she looks. Her eyes look black from her massive lust-filled pupils and her chin is covered in my cum, dripping down as she licks her lips. “Your pussy tastes so fucking good, mmm I can’t get enough of you” and with that her tongue is back on me, flicking and slurping, swallowing and circling, tasting every inch of my core.

Just when I thought things couldn’t get better, two fingers pump into me, filling me perfectly. I gasp and shake underneath her, beginning to feel overstimulated by the pleasure she gives me. I feel as if im floating, like this is all just a fever dream, it cant be possible for sex to feel this good. “God, fuck, baby. Fuck Billie yesssss” I struggle to get my words out as my hands dart around the bed, trying to find anything to grab hold of, something to anchor me to this bed as I feel my stomach contracting. “I feel you pulsing on my fingers mama, let go for me, cum on my fingers like the good girl I know you are” Her voice is raspy and low, sexier than I’ve ever heard it before. Her nasty words flood my mind and I scream as I feel her lips wrapped around my clit again, sucking and licking as she curves her fingers upward and hits my g-spot. She keeps devouring me and moaning into my pussy as she speeds her fingers up and I feel like I’m about to black out. Thank god I live alone because I don’t think I’ve ever been louder in my life. “Billie Im about to cum, fuck it feels so good please don’t stop” She smiles into my cunt as she flicks her fingers inside of me, doing a come here motion as she pumps them in and out, stimulating me in a way I have never been stimulated before. It feels like she knows my body better than I even do, like shes been fucking me like this for years. She keeps up the motions of her fingers as she flattens out her tongue and pushes it hard against my clit, moving her head side to side. “Oh my goddddd” I scream out as I begin shaking underneath her, being hit with my second orgasm, one that is somehow twice as strong as the first. “Fuck Billie yes fuck” I can’t get all my words out before needing to scream and moan again. “Im cumming baby fuck, f-fuckkkkkkk”

the last of my sentence turns into a deep moan as she keeps going. Keeps plowing her fingers into me, keeps moving her tongue side to side on my clit, keeps lighting me up with intense pleasure. I feel a new sensation as she continues to overstimulate me. It’s something I’ve never felt before and it's stronger than any orgasm I’ve ever had. “Wait billie, fuck, please oh god” She lifts her head up from my clit but speeds up her fingers. My eyes are squeezed shut and my lungs are frozen, unable to breath. I feel like my body is full of stars, like im no longer all the way here. My knuckles ache from how tightly im grabbing the sheets but somehow the pain fuels my orgasm more as it continues to take control of my body. “Billie stop I think i’m about to—” I can’t get my words out fast enough before the gates open and I pour out all over her chest and fingers, squirting hard. I try to move my hips but she grabs me, holding me where I am as I continue spilling out onto her. Screams meet with the wet sounds of my pleasure and I can’t take it any longer. “Okay okay billie fuck im done, im done” I say as my back returns down on the bed and I feel air fill my lungs again. My legs continue to shake and my pussy clenches around her fingers in a rhythm, like it has a heartbeat of its own.

She lays her head down on my thigh as she slowly pulls her fingers out of me. The movement causes me to groan and shake again, a clear indication of just how overstimulated I am. She looks at me, making sure I’m watching as she licks her fingers clean, moaning at the taste of them. As I sit up on my elbows and watch her lick her lips I look down to see her boobs covered in all my juices, wet and dripping, as sexy as they could possibly be. She catches me looking and smirks. “If I wasn’t so fucked out I would be licking my juices off those sexy boobs” I say with a new found confidence. She crawls up me and kisses me softly, letting my tongue slip between her lips and around hers. “You taste good don’t you baby” she moans, before pulling me tight against her naked wet chest. Our boobs rub together and our connection feels electric. “You know I’ve never squirted before, you’re the first” I say, glowing from all the pleasure I just experienced. “I didn’t even know sex

could feel that good” i laugh admitting it then feeling embarrassed. “Welcome to sex with women” she giggles as the words come out, “I feel lucky to be the first of many for you baby, I’ve been wanting you for so damn long, I gotta admit it” she kisses me on my cheek and grabs my nipple playfully making me yelp. “I been dreaming about this for a long time too, Billie” I confess with a smile, looking back at her. “Good things there’s a whole lot more firsts for me to have” I say playfully as I grab her boob again.

I pull her closer to me, both of us back on our sides facing eachother. I crave a type of intimacy with her that I have avoided with every one of my partners for years. Maybe I really am gay and it’s just because shes a woman. Or, maybe, if I let myself really think about it, its because its Billie. My hand falls over her body onto her bare back and my fingers begin lightly dancing over her skin. She snuggles into me tighter and humms. Being in Billie’s arms feels like home. My cheeks flush as I realize that the love I feel for her is not the love you feel for a friend, it is so so much more than that. Its the type of love that terrifies me, or at least it has in the past. For some reason I don't feel scared at all right now, I feel quite the opposite actually.

I continue rubbing her back as our breathing slows, both melting into one another. She breaks the silence with a silky voice, “I think I could stay like this forever” my heart skips a beat at her confession, bringing a calm warmth throughout my body. “I’d like that a lot Billie” she lifts her head from the crook of my neck just long enough to place a kiss on my forehead, before snuggling back into me tighter. We lay like this for a minute before I interrupt. I giggle quietly to myself and she looks up with a curious expression, her eyebrows knit together but a smirk on her lips, “what the hell are you so giggly about?” she says, laughing with me now. “Does this mean,” I giggle again slightly more bashfully this time, before I continue. “Does this mean I get to learn all about lessssbbiiann sexxxxx with you?” I can’t help but say it in a goofy, slightly mocking tone, emphasising my purposefully ridiculous word choice. “Sure does baby girl, sure doesssssssss” She laughs out, matching the playful energy. “Ooo la la” I sing, pulling a laugh from both of us as we lay back down. I can’t help but feel overwhelming excitement for whats to come.

Should I continue on with the story??

[dissapointu]

Arcane characters taking a bath with their s/o

————————————————————————

{Jinx}

You’re sitting in the tub with Jinx, the warm water soothing your skin after a long, exhausting day. Jinx is sprawled across your lap, playing with the bubbles, her usual chaotic energy tempered by the calm of the moment. She giggles as she flicks a bubble at your face, then snickers when you pretend to be annoyed.

“You look so cute like this,” she grins, her blue hair sticking out at odd angles as she tilts her head back, making a mess of the water. “I could stay in here forever, just like this.”

She reaches up to touch your cheek, and as her fingers trace over your face, she grins mischievously. “Maybe we should stay here forever. I could make bubbles bigger than the tub!”

You chuckle, watching her delight in the little things. She snuggles up to you, letting you play with her hair as she hums, feeling safe and content in your arms.

{Vi}

The steam from the hot bath envelops you both as Vi slides into the water next to you, her muscles relaxing immediately. She rests her head on your shoulder with a contented sigh, one of her strong arms wrapping around your waist. Her breath is warm against your skin, and you can feel her body easing into the comfort of the moment.

“You know, I don’t do this enough,” she mumbles softly, her voice carrying the weight of a long, stressful week. Her thumb gently rubs circles on your side, and the action is soothing. “I’m usually too busy punching my way through everything, but this…this feels good.”

Her gaze lifts to meet yours, her violet eyes soft, and she gives you a grin. “Thanks for getting me to slow down.”

You smile back, your hands tracing the line of her jaw, knowing this quiet moment means everything to her. She leans in and kisses you gently, the water lapping around you both.

{Sevika}

The bath is peaceful, the water cool and inviting, a stark contrast to Sevika’s usual intense and guarded demeanor. She’s sitting next to you, her back against the edge of the tub, letting out a sigh of relief as she relaxes for once. Her body is still, but you can tell she’s enjoying the rare moment of calm.

She glances over at you, noticing the way you’re admiring her. “You’re staring,” she mutters, but there’s a soft smile tugging at her lips.

“Can’t help it,” you reply, reaching out to gently run your fingers over the scars on her arm. She tenses at first, but then softens, giving you a look that says she trusts you.

“You know, I’m not as tough as I look,” Sevika says quietly, her voice low, almost vulnerable. “But I’ve always liked being with you like this… when it’s just us.”

You squeeze her hand, giving her a reassuring smile. For once, she doesn’t have to be the strong one. In this moment, she just gets to be with you.

{Silco}

The water is warm and soothing as Silco leans back against the edge of the tub, eyes closed in relaxation. His long fingers brush through your hair as you sit between his legs, leaning back against his chest. The silence between you is comfortable, but there’s a quiet intensity in the way he holds you.

“Tell me about your day,” he says, his voice softer than usual, almost as if he’s genuinely interested.

You start to talk, but he interrupts you with a small chuckle, his fingers tracing your collarbone. “I don’t need to know every detail. Just… share the things that matter to you.”

You smile, settling into him more. There’s no pressure to perform, no expectations. Just Silco, taking a rare moment to show you affection in the most intimate way. You feel his lips brush your forehead before he speaks again. “I enjoy moments like this, with you.”

{Vander}

The large tub feels like a small haven as you sit in the warm water, with Vander’s broad frame next to you. He’s careful not to disturb the water too much, his big hands gentle as he reaches over to wash your hair. His hands work through your hair with surprising tenderness, and you let out a soft sigh, sinking further into the comfort of the bath.

“You always take care of me,” you murmur, looking up at him with soft eyes. “I don’t think I could ask for anyone better.”

Vander smiles down at you, his expression filled with both love and pride. “It’s my job to look out for you, and that’s something I’ll always do.” His voice is deep and soothing, and you feel his hand gently rub your back.

He leans forward, his lips pressing a kiss to your forehead. “We’ll always have each other.”

{Ekko}

The warm water swirls around you and Ekko as he leans over to adjust the temperature of the tub, making sure it’s just right. You’re both settled in now, and Ekko is holding onto you as if you’re the most precious thing in the world.

“You’re perfect, you know that?” Ekko says softly, his lips brushing the top of your head. He has a smile on his face, but it’s not the usual mischievous one—this one is soft, genuine.

“Why?” you ask, lifting your head to look at him, unsure of what he means.

He leans down, his fingers gently tracing the curve of your cheek. “Because you’re the only person who can keep up with me in a world like this. No one else could. And I like that.”

Ekko gently kisses you, the moment quiet and serene, as you relax in the bath together.

{Jayce}

The warm water feels good against your skin as you sit across from Jayce in the bath. He’s always been so composed, so put-together, but here, with you, he lets his guard down. His hand gently holds yours, his thumb brushing against your knuckles.

“I can’t remember the last time I just relaxed,” Jayce says, leaning back with his eyes closed. “I think I needed this more than I realized.”

You chuckle softly, reaching over to run a hand through his hair. “It’s nice, isn’t it?”

Jayce lets out a sigh of contentment, smiling as he opens his eyes. “Definitely. Especially with you here.”

You both simply sit together, content in the peaceful silence, occasionally glancing at each other, knowing that this moment of peace is something you’ll both cherish.

{Victor}

Victor’s usually so focused on his work, but tonight, he’s here with you, soaking in the bath as you sit beside him, the steam rising around you. His face is relaxed, and you can see the slight smile on his lips as you both unwind.

“I’m glad you convinced me to take a break,” he says softly, adjusting his glasses before setting them aside. “I tend to get lost in my thoughts too easily.”

You reach for his hand, gently squeezing it. “You deserve to relax,” you reply with a smile, leaning your head on his shoulder. “Besides, you don’t have to think about anything right now.”

Victor nods, his hand gently brushing your hair aside. “You make it easy to forget the world sometimes.”

He kisses your forehead, and for a few moments, it’s just the sound of your breathing and the quiet splash of water around you.

{Caitlyn}

Caitlyn smiles as she settles beside you in the large bath, the soft lavender scent of the bubbles filling the air. She glances at you with a playful grin, taking your hand in hers.

“You look so relaxed,” she observes with a teasing tone. “I think I’m going to need a bath like this every night.”

You laugh, feeling the warmth of her hand around yours. Caitlyn is surprisingly at ease in the bath, enjoying the quiet moments with you. She leans in, brushing her lips against your cheek, making you smile even more.

“Thank you for this,” she murmurs softly. “Sometimes I forget how much I need to slow down.”

The quiet moments between you both stretch on, with Caitlyn occasionally glancing over at you, a soft smile playing on her lips. You both just enjoy the calm and the peace that comes from being together, letting everything else fade away.

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

Consider:

Reader wanting to cross some stuff off a bucket list and wanting to go skydiving with Bucky.

Maybe a bit of angst with the quite-literally-falling-into-HYRDA’s-arms thing, but mostly y/n (and Sam) making fun of him for not doing it until he caves and does it in spite of his fears

Bucky didn’t like it all that much, understandably so— but it gets Dr. Raynor off his butt for the week, so maybe it wasn’t that bad

Bucket List » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Pairings: Best Friend/TFATWS!Bucky Barnes x Best Friend!Female Reader with Sam Wilson/Falcon

Summary: You want to cross sky diving off of your bucket list and you ask Bucky to go with you.

Warnings: Fluff, tiny bit of Angst, language, pet names

A/N: Thank you for the request, nonnie🩵

Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

GIF IS NOT MINE! Gif credit goes to the creator.

“Bucky, just the person I was looking for!” You said as you walked in the living room. “Do you want to do something fun and adventurous with me?” You asked, sitting down on the couch next to him.

“That depends on what your definition of fun and adventurous is.” Bucky says.

“Sky diving.” You say.

Bucky stayed silent. He doesn’t really want to do anything that involves falling off of something. Like what happened in 1945 when HYDRA got their hands on him.

“Well?” You waited for him to respond. “Doesn’t it sound fun?” You asked.

“No.” Is all he said.

“Why not?” You asked.

“It sounds dangerous.” He says.

Sam laughed out loud when Bucky said that.

“You think sky diving is dangerous? You literally jumped out of a plane without a parachute the other day.” Sam said.

“Wait what?” You said. “Did he really jump without a parachute?” You asked, looking at Sam.

“I have it on video.” He said. “I can show you if you want.” He says.

“Do not show her that video.” Bucky says, narrowing his eyes at Sam.

You pouted and moved closer to Bucky.

“Are you scared of heights or something?” You asked.

Sam laughed out loud again.

“This man isn’t scared of heights.” Sam says.

“I can speak for myself, man.” Bucky says to him.

“Then give her a reason why you won’t go sky diving with her.” He says.

You and Sam stared at Bucky, waiting for him to give you a reason why he doesn’t want to go Sky diving with you.

“I already said it’s dangerous.” Bucky repeats. “That’s my reason.” He says.

“Bucky, you literally do dangerous things when you’re on missions.” You say.

“She’s not wrong.” Sam chimes in.

“What’s your point?” He asks, turning his head to look at you.

“My point is…” You handed him your little notebook that has your bucket list of things you want to do. “I want to cross more things off of my bucket list and sky diving is one of them.” You say.

Bucky opened your little notebook to your bucket list page. You had stars drawn around sky diving.

“Sorry, doll.” Bucky tossed the notebook on your lap. “Find someone else to go with you.” He says.

You laid across Bucky’s lap so he couldn’t get up.

“Please?” You begged, staring up at him.

“No.” Bucky says.

You pouted and stuck your bottom lip out. You know Bucky can’t resist it. It’s taking everything in him to not say yes to sky diving.

“Nice try, doll.” Bucky gently moved you off of his lap so he could stand up. “I’m not going to give in with that look this time.” He says.

You sat on the couch, watching as Bucky walked to the kitchen to get something to drink.

“I think the real reason why he doesn’t want to go sky diving is that he doesn’t want you to hear him screaming like a scary cat.” Sam jokes.

“Probably.” You giggled.

Bucky stood at the kitchen counter, listening to you and Sam basically making fun of him. He was quickly growing irritated. He slapped his hands on the counter to get you two to stop. You and Sam jumped at the sound of Bucky’s vibranium hand coming in contact with the granite countertop.

“Are you two done making fun of me?” Bucky asks, sounding irritated.

You and Sam know better than to irritate Bucky. Let’s just say it never ends well.

“I’m gonna leave now.” Sam stood up from the couch. “Good luck trying to get the bionic staring machine to go sky diving with you.” He says, patting your shoulder as he walked past you.

Bucky sighs loudly and rubs his hands over his face. You stood up from the couch and walked over to Bucky.

“I’m sorry.” You wrapped your arms around his waist. “I shouldn’t have made fun of you.” You apologized, putting your chin on his chest.

“It’s ok. I’m not mad at you.” Bucky says, wrapping his arms around you.

Bucky leaned against the edge of the countertop while he held you in his arms. A grin formed on his face. If he goes sky diving with you, that means he doesn’t have to go to therapy. At least, that’s what he thinks.

“Ok, fine.” He finally gives in. “I’ll go sky diving with you.” He says.

“Yay!” You cheered, kissing his cheek. “You’re the bestest friend ever!” You say.

That warmed Bucky’s heart when you said that.

You grabbed his hand, leading him to the car.

“Did you actually jump out of a plane without a parachute?” You asked curiously.

“Yes.” Bucky answers. “That wasn’t one of my finest moments.” He chuckles.

“I’m still gonna watch that video Sam has of you jumping out of it.” You say teasingly.

When you and Bucky got to the sky diving place, you felt yourself getting more and more nervous by the second.

“It’s ok.” Bucky whispers in your ear. “You don’t need to be scared. I’m here with you.” He coos.

You smiled and nodded. You took a few deep breaths before the sky diving instructor told you and Bucky can jump. Bucky had his vibranium arm wrapped protectively around your waist the whole time.

“You were right.” Bucky said as you two got to the ground. “This was fun and adventurous.” He says.

“I told you!” You exclaimed with a smile.

Bucky seen your little notebook with a pen in your back pocket and grabbed it. He opened it to your bucket list page and crossed off sky diving.

“Let’s see how much of this bucket list we can cross off in a week.” Bucky says with a smile.

🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

-Bucky’s Doll

[ninikrumbs]

move in with me

satoru gojo x reader. fluff. independent reader. domestic satoru

You’ve always prided yourself for being strong and independent. Solving your own problems, dusting your own shelves, and you knew when everyone else lets you down, that you could always count on yourself. So when you started dating Satoru Gojo, it threw you off kilter.

To say that it was an adjustment would be an understatement. He treated you like a princess, not wanting you to lift a single finger. He would tie your shoe laces, open doors, cook for you, carry your grocery bags, and with one single grimace from your face- due to you unfortunately wearing heels to dinner- he’d carry you on one arm with your strappy heels on the other.

In the beginning you’d frequently voice out to him that it was unnecessary, that you could do all of those things yourself. But he would just shrug before saying, “I know you can, but that doesn’t mean you have to.”and when you wouldn’t budge, he’d add, “ Doing things for you, you relying on me makes me happy. And you want me to be happy,right?”

And what were you suppose to answer to that kind of blackmail? So eventually, you mellowed out. You slowly got used to relying on him and it was nice finally able to turn off you brain for once and just let him take the lead.

Going out for dinner? He’d say just wear something nice and he’ll pick you up at 7:00. Vacation? He’s got all the tourist spots all mapped out and you don’t even know what airlines your taking, only that the he has everything covered. Birthday? He’ll plan a full on surprise at the stroke of midnight with balloons, cake, a ridiculously huge bouquet of your favorite flowers, and that pair of cute earrings you’ve been eyeing for weeks now. All this simply because, “You deserve nothing but the best out of everything, princess.”

But time and time again you’d prove that old habits die hard.

Gojo watched amused as you paced around the living room of his spacious and modern apartment, trying to find a solution to your current predicament. You just got off from a call from your landlord telling you that he just doubled your rent due to market prices rising and other things you didn’t care about. All you knew is that it was too much for you to afford and your brain immediately went into problem solving mode.

“I could find a smaller apartment, but its dead in the winter. There’s barely any good apartments available this time of year.”

“Or I could move in with Shoko! Yes! She always wanted me to so it would take a load off her rent and this way I could finally help her stop smoking-”

Satoru pulled you by the hand to his lap on the sofa making you yelp in surprise. “Baby, slow down.” He snaked his arms around your waist as you made yourself comfortable on his lap. You huffed, “But Toru, Im basically homeless next month.”

He shook his head and pinched your nose making your face scrunch. “You’re not gonna be homeless, your forgetting that you have me.”

“If you’re gonna tell me that you have an extra apartment on hand, I won’t know how to answer that.”

He guffawed a laugh, the type that made your stomach flip that it was hard to not smile at him. “Baby, no- haha- no,” He pulled you closer to his chest and his thumbs made soothing motions on your side. “I’m telling you- no asking you to move in with me.”

“What?” You leaned back in surprise.

His hand gently cupped your cheek, making you lean in to his touch. “Move in with me, princess. I’ve got the space. You’re already here most of the time and I was already planning on asking you to move in with me anyways so this spans out perfectly.”

His ocean eyes held nothing but warmth and sincerity, yet you still looked at him skeptically, “Are you sure? I don’t want you too feel pressured into asking me, Toru”

“Baby, are you forgetting all the times I practically latched on to your legs to stop you from leaving?”The memory of him trying to bribe you into staying made you snort making him grin. “See? I want you around 24/7.”

“I don’t know, Toru.” You were coming around, but Satoru could still see a little doubt in your eyes. He pressed a kiss on your cheek, “I want to see your clothes besides mine,” a kiss to your other cheek, “Your ridiculous amount of skincare in the bathroom,” A kiss on your forehead, “I want the house to smell like those scented candles that you love so much,” a kiss on your nose, “I want to leave home with a kiss from you,” and finally a kiss on your lips, so soft and sweet as if trying to pour everything else he couldn’t say into the kiss. “And I wanna come home to you sound asleep on our bed if I get home late.”

Your face burned with warmth from his kisses and small confessions,”Okay..” He raised an eyebrow, “Okay, Ill move in with you.” You said with more enthusiasm.

With a satisfied smile, he pulls you into his warm chest, placing his head on top of yours, “Please rely on me more. Promise to rely on me more?”

You pull away a bit to look him in the eyes, “I promise, Toru.”

He leans his head down closer to yours, with a playful glint in his eyes,”You promise what? Use your words, princess.”

“I promise to rely on you.”

“Good girl.” He mumbles against your lips before capturing it in his, his hands move to cup your face as he deepened the kiss. His tongue danced with yours as a hand moves to the back of your head, pulling you closer, as if trying to eliminate any space between you. Your chest pressed into his, making you moan into his mouth. He pull away with a lustful groan, a delicate strand of saliva connecting your lips before he licked it away. He dazedly nudged your nose with his, “Yeah, I’m really gonna love having you around, princess.”

I accept requests ^^

[pepperonijem]

iv. 'til there was you || to.you

"There was love all around, but I never heard it singing... 'til there was you."

summary: Levi finally knows what to call this feeling that bubbles up in his chest whenever you're around and he's decided he's going to tell you. eventually. at some point. maybe. pairing: Levi Ackerman x gn!reader content: cursing songs mentioned: 'til there was you - imaginary future

A/N: ... i had to split it AGAIN. anyway, here's a chapter full of Levi. also, the song is originally from the musical The Music Man, but I really like this cover. Very coffee shop vibes. I really enjoyed writing Levi's dynamic with Hange. One of my fave chapters lol.

let me know if you'd like to be tagged! comments and rb's are appreciated :)

previous chapter || masterlist || next chapter

Levi remembered something his mother had told him once, that paranoia ran through their bloodline. He remembered that he rolled his eyes at her then, and told her that was ridiculous.

But right now, sitting beside you, he couldn’t help but feel that he was being watched. Well, he knew he was definitely being watched. The question was why.

The cafe was busier than usual, and you and Levi found yourselves in the midst of all the other notebooks and laptops and students, all frantically studying for end of term exams. Even with all the sounds of laptop keyboards clicking, espresso machine whirs, and idle chit-chat, the sound of his name from a table over had piqued his interest.

He couldn’t make out everything being said, but he could pinpoint the source of the sound. Eren Jaeger and his friend Jean were arguing. About him. He tried to keep his focus on anything else. The article he was reading on his laptop, his finger tracing over the rim of his mug of tea, you. 

He looked over to see your brows furrowed as you wrote something in your notebook. It was odd, he thought, that you wrote with your paper nearly horizontal. He looked at your own coffee cup, empty now, and made a mental note to himself to go and place an order for a refill once he’d finished his own. Something about that thought, Levi realized, felt incredibly domestic in a way that set forth a warmth in his chest that rivaled the mug in his hands. 

It was new to him, this feeling, but it wasn’t unwelcome. In fact, since writing that song and playing it for you last week, he found himself in gentle pursuit of it. 

After he rushed out of the practice room that day, Levi felt his heart pound heavily in his ribcage, like he had just run a marathon. Once he had arrived at Hange’s place, he was almost relieved that everyone else was late for band practice. 

“Hange, there’s something wrong with me,” the desperation in his voice surprised him. He found himself feeling anxious, worried Hange would take the opportunity to tease him in his obviously vulnerable state. He watched Hange with helpless eyes as they stepped away from their keyboard to sit on the couch and invited Levi to sit down. 

They looked at him, as if searching for something. After what felt like minutes, they wordlessly stood up to make him a cup of tea, and Levi was thankful even if he knew Hange had the worst taste in tea. His fingers wrapped tighter around the warm mug in his shaking hands. They sat back down and faced Levi with an expression he rarely ever saw: calm, gentle… serious. “I’m gonna need you to elaborate,” they said, leaning forward on their knees.

The intensity of Hange’s gaze almost made Levi consider making a run for it. The vulnerability made him feel too exposed. But with a sigh, he grabbed the worn leather notebook from his coat pocket and flipped with one hand to his most recent song, handing it to Hange without a word. 

They raised an eyebrow at him. He was well aware that this was the first time he had ever really let anyone look into his notebook, to see his thought process before a song was fully polished. Usually, by the time the band started practicing his songs, the chords and lyrics were all neatly typed onto a single page or two.

His notebook was messy. It was full of scribbles and crossed out words and unfinished lines. Every so often there’d be jagged remnants of a page torn out in frustration. Words were written upside down, crammed in margins, in every font Levi’s hand somehow managed. It wasn’t the clean, well-kept, no funny business that people had come to expect. That he’d come to expect from himself. 

“Jesus, Levi, have you considered writing in pencil?” Hange muttered with a small huff.

“Shut up, four eyes.” Levi shot back, without any real bite behind his words. He felt himself relax a little bit at the normalcy of Hange’s teasing. His fingers drummed against the rim of his mug as he waited for Hange to finish reading. He watched nervously and felt his heart spike every time their eyebrow quirked up or they tilted their head in thought. It was only one page, but Levi felt as if he just handed them his entire soul.

When they finally spoke, they spoke softly but not gently. “Levi, if you like them just go and fucking tell them.” 

Levi rolled his eyes. “Hange,” he hissed as he snatched his notebook back. Setting down the mug, he grabbed a pen from his pocket and scribbled their words under the last line anyway.

“I’m serious, Levi,” Hange had a smirk on their face. “This is like, the sappiest shit you’ve written. And that’s saying something.”

“Shut up,” he mumbled, feeling the tips of his ears go red.

Hange relented and paused before speaking again in a softer, gentler tone. “I know you used Erwin’s words, and some other people’s lines, but… you know what this is, don’t you?”

Levi looked down to where he’d written just now. “I do,” he sighed. “But saying it out loud…”

Makes it real, he thought. For someone who’d written so many love songs (he’s written at least 20 since he learned to play the guitar), he was admittedly nervous to feel the things he’d spent years writing about. But at the same time… it was exhilarating to finally put a feeling to the metaphors he’d created, to the melodies he’d played. 

“I get it,” Hange didn’t push for him to finish his sentence.

“I’ll say something. Just… not now,” Levi nodded.

Before Hange could respond, the door opened and in came Miche and Eren to shatter the intimate atmosphere of the room. Levi gave Hange a pleading look. He was barely ready to talk to Hange about all this, much less Miche and the brat you call your best friend. 

“Got your text boss, sorry we’re late,” Miche explained as dropped down beside Levi on the couch and Eren handed out the drinks he bought from the cafe. Levi set down the now empty mug Hange gave him in exchange for the new one Eren brought.

Hange cleared their throat before waving in the air. “It’s fine, you know I accept bribes,” they responded, going back to their usual demeanor. “Anyway, Levi wrote a new song, so that’s what we’re doing today.”

“Oh? Another love song about Erwin?” Miche asked as Levi rolled his eyes. Eren stifled a laugh.

“When have I ever–” Levi ran a hand down his face. “I used something he said to me, yeah. Sue me.” 

As the others launched into a tirade of teasing remarks about Levi and his love for their former bandmate, his thoughts drifted back to you beside him on the piano bench and how his heart raced at the intimacy of it all. He’d say something. Eventually. But maybe he can just enjoy the messy comfort of something not quite ready to be named.

He took a long sip of his tea, emptying the cup. It was starting to get cold anyway. He reached over and grabbed your mug as well before standing from his seat. As he turned around to walk towards the counter, he spotted the two idiots entranced in their own bubble – the sandy blonde was writing something down while the other seemed to be nagging at him.

He made his way towards them, and it wasn’t until his shadow cast over their table that they finally looked up, like two kids caught with their hands in the cookie jar. “What are you two idiots blathering about?”

Jean’s eyes widened at Levi’s tone, but Eren straightened up, attempting to look unbothered. “Frankly, it’s none of your business,” Eren said with an air of bravado. The crack in his voice betrayed him. Jean’s gaze turned to him, interested in how deep of a grave Eren could dig for himself in this moment.

Levi raised an unimpressed eyebrow and the corners of his lip tugged upwards. “I’ve heard my name twice in ten minutes,” Levi leaned in. “I’d consider it my business.”

Eren let out an exaggerated sigh, attempting to sound bored. Levi suppressed a smirk. Levi knew him too well to be fooled into thinking Eren was unaffected by his “band captain” voice. He laughed mentally at the thought of him trying to impress Jean. This kid was a handful.

“We were just–” Jean began, attempting an explanation.

“Yeah, fine, we were talking about you,” Eren cut him off. 

Jean groaned and ran a hand through his hair. “Eren, shut up.”

Levi’s eyebrow rose higher as he folded his arms. “Yeah?”

Eren hesitated for a second, giving a quick glance to Jean, who still seemed to be pleading with him. “I was telling Jean here, that we should just ask if we could copy your psych assignment so the two of us could stop hanging out together.”

Levi was skeptical, but satisfied enough with their answer. He looked over to where you were working hard and realized his time was better spent away from the two obnoxious boys in front of him. “Tch,” he scoffed. “You know what I’m gonna answer to that right?”

With two resigned nods from them, Levi moved to step away from the table, once again focused on getting new drinks. However, he didn’t miss how Jean nudged Eren’s arm, muttering something Levi couldn’t quite catch. Whatever it was, it earned a glare from Eren and a barely stifled laugh from Jean. Levi’s name cut through the noise again, sharper this time, and he caught the quick, guilty glance they both shot in his direction.

When he sat back down beside you, he set your mug back at the corner next to your laptop. You looked at him with a warm smile before thanking him.

“You know your friends are idiots right?” Levi asked as he set his own mug down. You looked up at him with your head tilted in confusion before your lips tugged up in a smile.

“Yeah,” you agreed. “They are. But they’re not too bad.” You let out a chuckle. Levi felt his own lips quirk into a smile at the sound. 

“They were going to ask if they could copy our psych project,” Levi informed you, taking a sip of his tea. Still scalding hot, the way he preferred it.

Your eyebrow shot up and Levi watched curiously as you looked over at their table and tried and failed to bite back a laugh. The two boys looked up and waved at you. Jean even had the audacity to wink. He continued to watch you as you took a sip of your own coffee, recoiling at the heat. Levi rolled his eyes.

“Is that what they said,” you asked, amused. You finally turned back around to look at Levi with your eyes twinkling with something familiar. He recognized it as the same look Hange has when they’re coming up with a “theory.”

“Yeah,” Levi confirmed, now looking back down at his own notes. Social comparison theory wasn’t particularly interesting, but it beat having to watch Jean try to flirt with you. “I told them to fuck off.”

You laughed once again, and Levi felt something like pride, knowing it was because of him this time. “Did you really?” you asked incredulously.

He turned up to look at you and shook his head with a small smile. “In nicer terms, obviously.”

“Obviously.”

His eyes flickered back to the two boys who had gone back to whispering conspiratorially. Levi sighed to himself. Those two were exhausting, but they did make you laugh. Which, in Levi’s eyes, made them just ever so slightly barely tolerable.

After a few more hours of painstakingly reviewing various social psychology theories and mixing up names of theorists, the sun was finally beginning to set. Levi hadn’t really noticed until the lights of the cafe came on and the mix of gentle Christmas lights and the setting sun cast a warm glow across your face that made Levi’s stomach dip. The soft melody of a song Levi recognized had begun over the idle chit chat that filled the cafe.

There was love all around But I never heard it singing No, I never heard it at all 'Til there was you

He didn’t realize he was staring until you finally lifted your head from where it was resting against your closed fist and asked, “Is there something on my face?” 

Levi felt himself cough as he tried to prevent the blush from creeping onto his cheeks. “No, I just–” he cleared his throat. “I think the words on the page are starting to show up in my vision.” That, and whoever’s running the cafe playlist right now seems to be able to see into my mind, he thought.

You laughed. That’s at least twice today, Levi noted. Maybe he was funnier than he gave himself credit for. “Yeah,” you agreed. “Maybe it’s time to call it a night.” You turned away from him as you watched the sun dip, giving way to the lights that decorated the trees. 

Levi waited for you to finish putting your things away before he spoke again. “I’ll walk you home,” he offered, nodding to the door. To be honest, he couldn’t really remember the last time he willingly offered to walk someone home. He never really thought himself the type to. Even with Hange, he found it to be more of a reluctant obligation he had to the safety of those around him. But this… he just wanted to spend more time with you.

It wasn’t very late at all, but mid-November’s 5 p.m. sunsets could have had him fooled. Although it was an unusually warm day, the absence of the sun made Levi feel grateful that he brought his coat anyway, and although it wasn’t late, the streets felt quieter now. The sun had hidden away for the night and gave way to the glow of street lights and trees adorned with Christmas lights. He looked over to you, similarly dressed in your own long black coat and matching black knit scarf. He watched as you wrapped the scarf a little tighter around you and sighed in satisfaction. 

“Cold?” he asked.

You shook your head and Levi chuckled to himself as he watched your hair get ruffled by the back of your scarf. He reached out on instinct to adjust it, but tensed as you turned to look at him. You looked between him and his outstretched hand with a small smile and Levi bit back the urge to retract his hand. He adjusted your scarf, keeping his focus on the feel of the fabric. Not on the way you looked at him with twinkling eyes, or the puff of air that escaped your lips, or the way his fingertips felt electric when he finally drew them back.

Hange had told him once that the transition between autumn and winter was the prime time for suckers to fall in love. 

“That sounds stupid,” Levi remarked, but he definitely made a note of how good it would sound in a song. “Why then and not Valentine’s day?” It was the middle of September and the sun was too warm and the day was too long for it to feel like the beginning of autumn.

“Because that’s when love dies,” Hange replied matter-of-factly. Levi turned to Miche and Erwin who were both looking at something on Miche’s phone. No help there.

With a sigh, he allowed himself to indulge his friend’s train of thought as he tuned his guitar. “Okay, four-eyes,” he relented. “Tell me more. You have until I finish tuning my E string.”

He watched their eyes light up in wonder as they began to explain, but then they fell into a frown. “High or low?”

Levi chuckled to himself as he moved to the next string. “High.” Obviously, he’d hear them out for whatever they needed to say, but Hange spoke better with a time limit.

Hange lit up once again. “Okay,” they began decisively. “Autumn to winter is just the most romantic time of the year! It’s starting to get cold, so everyone has the biological urge to cuddle up with another person. On top of that, the holidays are great for nostalgia, the second greatest human weakness.”

“What’s the first?” Levi deadpanned.

“The neck,” Hange replied without skipping a beat. “Anyway, nostalgia leads to bad decisions like flings with exes or strangers. And finally, those trashy Christmas rom-coms brainwash the common fool into thinking love is magical and attainable.”

Without looking up, Erwin finally chimed in. “Don’t you cry watching Love Actually every year?”

“That’s research, dear Erwin,” Hange threw a pillow in his direction. Miche caught it, barely even looking up, and placed it on his lap to rest his phone on top. 

When Hange made no move to speak again, Levi looked up to see Hange already looking his way expectantly. “Wow,” Levi replied with mock enthusiasm. “I didn’t even get to the high E string yet.”

Hange huffed and rolled their eyes. “I can be timely,” they defended. “Anyway, makes sense right? It’s a theory I’m working on.”

“Guys, they’re theorizing again,” Levi called to the two boys on the couch who were still engrossed by the video playing on the phone. It sounded like a music video, but when he leaned to get a better look, all he saw was… dancing fruit?

“Great job, Hange,” Miche called out in a monotone. “Science does rule.”

“Just don’t burn your eyebrows off again,” Erwin added, not looking up.

“That was once!” 

Levi shook his head. “How exactly are you working on this theory?” He was sure he’d regret asking, but curiosity won the better of him.

“I’m gonna make my TA from my forensic biology class fall in love with me,” Hange shrugged. Yup. Regret. Levi rolled his eyes with a huff. “Why? You want in?”

“Wait,” Miche finally looked up. “Are you talking about the terrifying grad student who looks like he’s 50 but is only like… 35? He drives a motorcycle. He’s too cool for you.”

“I’m cool!” Hange gasped.

“You just came up with an insane theory based on Christmas rom-coms,” Erwin pointed out.

“And you cry during Love Actually,” Levi added.

“When me and my lovely TA are happily married, you’ll all eat your words!”

Hange’s TA did not, in fact, fall in love with them.

Levi’s not particularly sure why he remembered that now. He had dismissed the theory as simply another of their stupid ramblings. But now… maybe, he figured, Hange’s theory had some merit. With the chill of November and the warm yellows that graced your skin under the Christmas lights? He felt warm beside you. Comfortable, even.

The walk back to your apartment wasn’t bad at all. In fact, it was much shorter than he would have liked. it turned out you and Levi lived in buildings across from each other. Crazy how the world can feel so small sometimes. At your door, you turned and leaned against it, wrapping your arms around yourself. It had gotten colder in the time it took to walk back. There was a silence that washed between the two of you – not awkward, but still full of anticipation. Like a buzz.

“Oh right,” you spoke. “Before I forget, Armin’s organization is hosting a charity thing next weekend. If you’re free, you should definitely go.”

“A party?” Levi asked. “Or…” he trailed off, waiting for you to correct him.

“Armin said it’ll be a black tie gala,” you explained, and Levi tried to keep his face from falling into a frown. His heart sank at the idea of being surrounded by small talk and crowds all night. You must have noticed his hesitation because you scrambled to continue speaking. “I mean, it’s not– you don’t have to come, but I just– it’s– it would be a lot more fun if you swing by.”

He was sure that the blush that crept onto his cheeks matched yours and you both looked away from each other. Levi wasn’t big on parties, dances, formals, or anything of the sort. He tolerated it when he was the one playing on stage, because at least then he didn’t really have to interact or socialize. But a gala where he’s just another person in the crowd? Hange had forced him to attend enough parties for him to know he was more of a wallflower than a dancer.

But if it meant he’d see you again…

“Sure,” he shrugged in an attempt to regain his composure. “I’ll swing by.” He mimicked your words with a smile, and felt something soft spread through his chest.

“Good,” you smiled back at him, the relief was evident in your voice. The moment seemed to stretch before either of you spoke again.

“See you around?” He asked, not wanting to say goodbye, but not wanting you to stand outside to catch a cold.

“See you around.” Your gaze lingered on him for a beat longer before you finally unlocked your door. Levi watched you disappear inside with a final wave and the door clicked shut.

He stood there in front of your closed door for a moment longer, and now everything around him sounded much louder. The howl of the breeze, a car honking in the distance, the groups of people walking in the quad – but none of it was louder than the thump of his own heart against his chest. 

He wasn’t used to this. To want to find excuse after excuse to spend an extra moment or two with you, to put aside his own feelings to do so, to bite back words that he so desperately wants to say. It was so new, and he wondered what it was about you that made him not only welcome this feeling, but to chase after it so desperately. 

And as he lay in his bed, unable to sleep all night, he thought and thought about how it could be you to change his heart. Hange was right. He was definitely a sucker.

A/N: this was supposed to be the last chapter, but i just kept going back and adding details and details and my document ended up over 20k words so that's why the last chapter and this one are smaller shorter chapters. I might split up the next 10k as well, tbh.... not sure yet! just vibes lol.

[cottonlemonade]

Long Distance Relationship

word count: 970 || avg. reading time: 4 mins.

pairing: University AU!Kageyama x chubby!Reader

genre: fluff, established relationship

warnings: none

request: hi! can i get a 32 and a 33 for lunch and then study with kageyama? thank you i'm so excited! xx || fluffy, 2.16am LDR with boyfriend Kageyama

You stretched and heard a pop that you didn’t know if it came from your neck or the rickety old desk chair. It was late, a quick phone check told you it was 2 in the morning. A wide yawn spread over your face and you squeezed your eyes shut, then blinked a few times to get your vision back into focus. You had stopped comprehending any of the sentences in front of you hours ago but hoped that through sheer willpower and the mere fact that you had the decency to pretend to study, it would all work out in the end. Your eyes fell onto your lock screen, lit up briefly by some spam mail. It showed a picture of you and your boyfriend Tobio with your heads stuck together, each holding a small carton of milk while squinting into the sun. It was one of your favorites because of the way he scrunched his nose. When you were accepted to different universities your heart had broken a little but you promised each other you’d be the high school sweethearts that beat the odds. You had nothing to worry about with him. The only other love he’d ever known was volleyball and besides that, you and breathing, Tobio didn’t pay anything much mind. The first year at university worked out great. You usually met right in the middle between Tokyo and Kyoto every other weekend so neither of you had to do the 3-hour train ride each way and could spend a bit more time together. Plus, those tickets were cheaper, meaning you could see each other more often. Your heart began to ache when you thought of your last get-together and how you didn’t want to let him go at the station, how he almost missed his train because he couldn’t stop kissing you, and how you both held back your tears until the other was out of sight. Because in your second year, the workload became greater and meeting became more difficult, you hadn’t seen him in over three weeks. However, the little countdown of days right next to the time, now in the single digits, gave you a little hope. Your roommate snored softly and turned around in her bed. You checked the lamp again to make sure it wasn’t pointed directly at her.

A rush went through your body when your phone buzzed and you picked up immediately.

“Hey you, why are you still up?”, you said quietly.

“I- Hi.”

“Hi.”, you grinned. Your fatigue was completely wiped away. It was so nice to hear his voice and you were barely able to contain your excitement.

“I was wondering how your day went.”

“At 2 am?”

“… yes.”

“Well, it’s much better now thank you, how about you? You sound out of breath. Were you jogging? At this time of night? That’s dangerous, baby, please get back as soon as possible.”

“I’m still quite a bit away but I’ll let you know when I’m home.”, he muttered and his tone made you smile.

You knew exactly what he looked like right now - hand in his pocket, probably looking at the tip of his shoe drawing random patterns on the ground.

“I miss you.”, you said into the silence that followed.

“I miss you, too.”

“But hey, only”, you briefly lifted your phone away from your ear to check, “9 more days until we see each other again, right?”

“Yeah uhm… about that…”

“You’re not gonna make it?”, you asked, unable to hide the disappointment in your voice.

“No no, it’s not that. Uhm, which was your dorm room again?”

“Second floor, third from the left, why?” Your heart did a tentative little bounce.

Something that sounded very much like a pebble on glass tapped against your window. You stood up and almost tripped trying to see out into the night. There, taking a few steps back so he would be seen in the cone of light from the campus lantern stood your boyfriend, wearing his favorite sweats and the hoodie you had given him for your last anniversary. You clasped a hand over your mouth to not squeak too loudly and Tobio heard scrambling on the other end. Half a minute later the lights in the foyer went on, then the front door opened and you stood there with only one slipper and a sweater that was inside out. He jogged over to you.

“What are you- how are you- oh my god, you’re here!”

He buried his face in your shoulder when you pulled him in for a long, tight hug.

You collected your second shoe on the way back up to your room and settled into your bed. Tears were welling in your eyes at his familiar smell as you drew him close. Too precious to waste with much else, you combed your fingers through his hair, while Tobio tried his best to be as close to you as humanly possible. He wrapped himself securely around your soft, squishy form. There was little talking involved, cuddling and the occasional gentle kiss were all that mattered. It was cozy and familiar being in each other’s arms like this and you wished the moment would never end. You could have fallen asleep but just as you were happily drifting off with the comforting scent of his shampoo brushing your nose a phone buzzed. Tobio made a low grumbling noise against your neck.

“I have to go.”, he whispered. The clock on your roommate’s nightstand showed 4 am.

“No, stay…”

“I want to. But I can’t…”, he didn’t make any attempts to move, just kept mumbling against you, “I have training in a few hours.”

He looked up at you, sleepy but so so happy. “And we’ll meet again in 9 days, right?”

a/n: request for @haikyuusunsalad

This was the softest prompt ever oh my gosh 🥺🥺 thank you so much! I hope you enjoyed it!

[mysterious-moonstruck-musings]

Closed Position Teaser

Evening my lovelies,

Checking in to let you know I'm alive since I haven't been on here much lately. Anyway, how about a little update on Closed Position?

I've been diligently chipping away at the next chapter. The good news is, it's almost done! The word count is currently at 20.8k. I'm estimating it will be around 25k when finished. It's another bulky one, but it will cover the entirety of Week 6. I don't think I’ll need to split any up going forward (hopefully).

I know you're dying to see what happens after that wonderful cliffhanger I left you all on. So, how about a fun snippet to hold you over?

Dieter's POV

I gave her a flirty smirk, “You’re here one night and you’re already stealing my clothes and wearing them in public.” She shrugged, “You’ll get over it. Besides, if they wanna stare and gossip during rehearsals, might as well give them something to look at. Maybe someone will tell Alec that I suddenly have a proclivity for fucking.” I snorted out a laugh. That certainly wasn’t the response I was expecting, but I fucking loved it.  “This might be a sign you’re spending too much time with me…but I’m not complaining. I also like the thought of you being in my clothes when I’m not around. It’s kind of sexy…”  She gave me a sly smile, “Good. You can think about that while you’re telling your therapist how I rode you senseless when we were in New York.”

As you can see...things are progressing nicely with our love birds. 😂

Dieter & Kat will have some heavy cuddle vibes this chapter. This gif sums it up nicely. Zee is in the middle of it all, of course.

The song for this chapter is definitely a vibe in and of itself. Let's just say that their Argentine Tango performance is going to raise a few eyebrows for sure. 🎶 Week 6 Performance Song 🎶

I think this video might nicely evoke the overall feel of their performance. No water though...sorry. However, Dieter might end up shirtless by the end of it...🤭

Anyone want to make any guesses on how things are going to go with Alec? What do you think Dieter is actually going to tell his therapist? Indulge me. You know I love hearing your theories. The more off the wall, the better.

Until next time,

💜Mysty

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